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From: Stone-D <REMstoneOVE@link.net.id>
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Subject: {ASSM} FIXED : Shock - Part I (M/F, MC, Mild NC, Rom)
Date: Mon, 29 Oct 2001 06:10:02 -0500
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Copyright Message
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
This story was written by Laga Mahesa (aka Stone-D), 2001.

The usual restrictions apply. No content changes allowed,  these headers
remain  intact and attached to  this story at  all times.  Permission to
archive ONLINE is granted, providing the site does not make any *DIRECT*
profit from this story (advertising is understood and allowed as long as
this is not the only story and I am not the only author on the page) and
that this story is not submitted to member-only restrictions.

If, for some strange and inexplicable reason, any publishers - or dare I
say producers - are interested, please contact me ASAP.

Content Warning
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
'Shock' is an adult story and contains a vast amount of 'erotic' imagery
involving  ideas  such  as  but  not  limited  to  'Mind  Control', 'Non
Consensual' and general 'Romance'.  Sex and violence scenes are graphic,
and will undoubtedly disturb some readers.

Reader Feedback
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Is greatly appreciated, and in the absence of any kind of cash flow from
this endeavour, it is an ego boost that compells me to write more.  Mail
me at :
                        stone AT link.net.id

Should that address become invalid,  contact information is available on
my site :
                http://l33t.mine.nu/stone-d/index.html

I hope. Be warned though, IE may not like my site much (I exorcised that
hellspawn from my PC so I can't check easily), as I use Opera for all my
designing and employ full CSS which IE still doesn't support completely.

If your  mail is merely abusive in nature,  don't bother as I won't read
past  the first sentence.  Only intelligent critics and firm young girls
need apply. Cheerleader status not required, though a definite plus.

I'm 25 by the way. 6'1", dark hair, tanned, well bui... err, never mind.

Please allow for some time for replies - I *will* reply (unless the mail
is abusive) but I am quite busy so they may be delayed.

WARNING
=-=-=-=
This  story  is ongoing - in other words, IT IS NOT FINISHED YET. I know
that annoys some readers, so at least you have been warned.

Each 'part' will end at a definite scene change, so confusion will be at
a minimum. This tactic will hopefully reduce any anguish and gnashing of
teeth should I for some reason decide to dump the story altogether.

This is my very first *real* story, at all, ever. So please bear that in
mind when reading it.

Oh, sorry for the huge header. I copied it from some source code I wrote
a while ago and couldn't be bothered changing or pruning much.

Now. Enough blithering - on with the story.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=XX=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=



Shock (M/F, MC, Mild NC, Rom)
Copyright (C) by Stone-D 2001



Part I : Internal Conduction

WHETHER OR NOT you are foolish depends entirely on perspective.

Look at me for instance. Twenty six year old lightly tanned male
caucasian (I have some asian blood somewhere in the mists of my
ancestry, so the tan isn't a big problem to maintain), 6'2", average
build, fairly athletic with no flab. Single, for... let's just say too
long.

I made the mistakes the majority of youths in my generation made at
university :

Nightclubs, drink, marijuana.

Certainly not to the extent that the majority did, but sufficient to
nearly cost my my degree. Oh, I enjoyed it all certainly. Thankfully
that worked out well, leaving me sweating blood but thankful it didn't
turn out worse.

So what did I do with it?

Well, I spent two year deluding myself by trying to create a 'genre
busting' new game. That failed, of course. Those days are long gone -
now you need a well financed team backed by a ruthless, money-blind
publisher. When the cash started to run out, I panicked then crawled to
my parents and begged for mercy. When I eventually gathered sufficient
funds, I opened an Internet Cafe.

Which is where I stand today.

So, okay, you might think. Fairly poor, but not spectacularly
'foolish'. At least not to the point where I ended up a complete
failure.

Let me explain.

No, I'm not a failure - actually, the business is doing well. I now
have two branches, owing to the fact that the original office was
situated extremely well with respect to a nearby land development,
which at that time was planned to be an apartment complex but actually
ended up as a high price residential area.

No, the foolishness comes from the fact that I am completely
dissatisfied with my life. I disrespected my parents, fouled up my
education and made the worst choices I could conceive of whenever
possible, never for a moment considering what the future might hold.

Kids, I swear to you. Your life expectancy is roughly sixty to eighty
years old, depending on where you were born, where you live and how you
live. You might be thinking, 'Aw, but my teenage years are the prime of
my life!' Wrong. They generally suck, and to 'sacrifice' those 'golden'
years of partying and drug abuse so that you can enjoy the next forty
in comfort rather than backbreaking labor is a deal I would gladly take
given the opportunity again.

Anyway, I picked the Internet Cafe idea because it promised a
relatively easy life where I could pursue my own pleasures whilst
running a business and making easy money. God, how wrong I was. I have
no idea when the last time was when I played a game on one of my own
machines - my life is filled with meetings, transcripts and all the
other trappings of business and finance.

Well, to summarize, I'm feeling pretty bleak and morose just now as...



... Daniel lurched despondently down the street with a beercan in his
hand, sometime after 2 AM.

The city sounds washed over his foggy brain like the well-used blanket
they were - an occasional horn from the nearby harbor; fire trucks
grunting in the distance; cop cars whining and whooping nearby.

He sighed, leaned against a post and stared randomly at passersby.
Looking up he could see - barely - the full moon intersected by some
overhead powerlines. A jet thundered past in the middle distance. I
wonder where they were off to? he thought. Some tropical paradise no
doubt.

Daniel downed the remainder of the beer, crumpled up the can and tried
to throw it into a nearby trashcan. He missed. Looking at the piles of
assorted rubbish in the vicinity, he decided against retrieving it and
putting it...

Something wasn't right. He looked across the road, where a young couple
were waiting to cross the road, hand in hand. The man pulled her closer
and whispered something in her ear, causing her to visibly recoil with
an expression of disgust her face.

Looking up and down the street, he could see that the evening rush
traffic was over, down to the occasional car with large gaps of
emptiness between them.

Those sirens are getting louder, he thought. Must be closer than I
imagined.

He looked back across the street in time to see the woman attempt to
retreat from the man's grip, a look of misery on her face as he started
to pull her across the street in my direction. Marriage problems
probably, he thought.

Suddenly there was an ear-piercing shriek to the left down the street,
sounding like a family of pigs being disemboweled with a blunt
pitchfork accompanied with a staccato hissing noise and a throaty roar.
Whirling around, he saw a bottled water delivery truck come careening
around the corner, its wheels spinning and leaving melted rubber on the
street, and start heading in his general direction. Immediately behind
it three police cars came charging out of three seperate side streets,
evidently giving chase to the truck.

Looking back, Daniel saw the couple stood there in the middle of the
road, frozen in the truck's lights like deer on the highway.

Jesus, they're gonna get hit!

It was a good thing he was inebriated, otherwise he probably would have
come to his senses and wouldn't have done what he did next.

Daniel sprang - no, lurched - across the road, and dove at the couple,
impacting heavily with the girl and wrenching her free from the man's
grip who turned with a look of shocked anger at the jolt - a look that
rapidly turned to horror when he looked back at the truck.

Then he vanished.

The truck crunched heavily into him, dragging him beneath as the driver
swerved desperately to keep control. Wheels spinning, the truck span
around leaving a red and black streak across the tarmac then flipped
over onto its side and smashed into the post Daniel had been leaning
against earlier. Bottles split open, water gushed all over the ground
drenching both Daniel and the girl.

All was silent in the vicinity apart from the approaching police cars.
Clinking noises came from the wrecked truck as hot metal came into
contact with the gushing water.

A moment of lucidity stung Daniel out of the numb shock of recent
events, allowing him to tear his eyes away from the carnage and look
up. The post the truck had hit was leaning over dangerously, tottering
on the brink of collapse - and visibly stretching the frail powerlines
overhead. A dull cracking noise signaled a continuation of his
nightmare - the post was collapsing.

Wincing at a sharp stab of agony from his left knee, he dragged himself
onto his feet. Looking down, he saw the girl was half sprawled on the
ground and soaked to her skin, with a vacant look of disbelief on her
face as she stared at where a spreading pool of pink indicated where
her partner now lay.

Daniel reached down and shook her. "Come on! Get up, there's no time!
Get up!" As he pulled her to her feet, she shook her head and gazed
blankly about her until she saw him.

"Owww... my head... Jesus! Oh my god! Th-thank you! You sa..."

"Yes, yes. Later!" he interrupted, pointing up urgently. "That pole's
coming down and we're soaking! MOVE!"

A look of stunned realization crossed her face as she looked up at the
powerlines. Then she did move.

A sharp grimace of pain flashed across her face - Daniel saw then that
there was blood running freely down below her left ear. Oh god, she's
concussed, he thought. Daniel wrapped one arm about her waist and
dragged her arm across his shoulders then attempted to drag her across
the street, away from the danger zone.

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! DON'T MOVE!" came an amplified voice, sounding
straight out of a B-rated 'hood' movie - sound and special effects
included.

Daniel froze, span around and gaped at the trio of police officers, one
holding a bullhorn and the other holding a torch and gun, pointing
towards us.

Ohshitshitohshit! Daniel thought. This can't be happening!

"KNEEL DOWN AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS!"

Crap! Daniel tried to move again towards the pavement, a mere three
metres away, a vision of safety in its perfect dryness.

"HALT! STOP THERE OR WE SHOOT!"

"Wha - " started the girl.

Suddenly a tremendous cracking noise sounded behind Daniel. A quick
glance at the officers showed the shock and dismay spread over their
faces. Looking over his shoulder, Daniel saw what he had feared.

The pole was falling. As it crashed through a department store window,
a trio of whipcracks sounded overhead as the powerlines snapped.

"Fuck!" Daniel whimpered. Desperately, he grabbed the girl and threw
her bodily towards the pavement, and tried to leap after her - but was
spun round by a savage blow to his leg, collapsing him to the ground
face-first in a splash of water and rolling his body helplessly until
he came to rest at the verge.

Just in time to see the overhead cables snap.

Everything seemed to suddenly go into slow motion - sparks from the
wrecked truck; the three officers mouthing obscenities; water splashing
onto the ground.

Everything slowed down. Except for the cables.

Like gigantic rubber bands stretched over an open fire, the power lines
recoiled and whipped through the air, hissing like demented
rattlesnakes. The swish of their passage through the air was
accompanied by distant screaming and swearing as panic set into the
onlookers.

A cable dropped into the water, and a sensation of pure, unmitigated
agony ripped through Daniel's brain. He could feel the raw energy
coursing through his body, waves of white pain wrenching up his spine
and slamming into his cortex. The shock overrode his nervous system and
his mind acquired a strange distance, as if viewing events from the
outside. Floating above his own body, he could see his own bedraggled
form twitching and thrashing like a freshly landed fish.

Two police officers had made it to safety - the third,
bullhorn-wielding officer wasn't so lucky. He stood there in the
roiling water, his hand stretched out for balance against the
overturned truck and his head thrust back with mouth agape in a
soundless scream, jerking and twisting like a broken marionette.
Seconds passed and steam rose from his clothes as his corpse started to
slowly cook, still shaking and shuddering from the electricity coursing
through his nerves and brainstem. Twin sharp pops signalled the end of
his eyeballs and a series of ugly sounds similar to that made by wet
tissue tearing marked the moment his skin seperated from his flesh.

And then, for Daniel at least, there was darkness.



'Shock' continues in Part II : Elementary Physical

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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