>>612
is civ J dead? Far as I can tell, yes it is, see >>26
is so what a waste of a good story I agree fully.

also, Fperson, another experiment to carry out in your story when you are able to continue:


Take a number of Jissous, lock their mouths open, and superglue them in a chain with mouth to ass, see how long they live, and add in other variables such as force feeding the last one with an exposed mouth before the process, force feeding ALL of them prior, starving various numbers of them and making them run out of shit prior, etc.

For the time being, yes, Civ J is dead and is currently held in stasis. Unfortunately the SCIENCE! must be paused. Haven't heard from WitchDoctor in ages, and his last project was 13; a dark psychological horror story involving the warped and twisted souls of twelve baby jissou, an insane high class jissouseki, the softy Mr. Man, and the Mr. Man's wife who hates jissouseki.

I've got some stories hidden away somewhere that I never posted. If there is time or sufficient motivation, I'll toss them here.

>>614

Already been done, I believe, in the great archive. I think, at least. It may have been in this thread, but irredisgardless it was done. Not quite as in-depth, but yeah. Also, Human Centipede.

>>615

That's sad to hear. I miss Kai already... Also, I would personally be spectacularly happy if you decided to post those hidden stories.

I can't speak for anyone else here, but I'd be happy to help you continue civJ REd, if only thru offering story suggestions, proofreading, and harassment to write moar.


Actually, I think I'll give you the harassment regardless.....

>>617
id just be happy too hear that jissos are being tortured and sacrificed to the great mr man in the sky in civ j, what i am trying to say it just need to be a filler, nothing needs to be fancy or canon to your story, i found this thread last week and i have to say i have becomes addicted, and also stupid smelly jisso must die

>>614

Found that story you wanted, >>262 by *A*.

Also, here's that other story you probably wanted.


Jissou Mythbusters

Episode 4

Grinding Gears, Part 2

So, yeah, back to work. I guess I’ll cut the first 25 seconds of the video out – the part with crazed activist rambling – and put it on my website. Someone else can get a laugh. I put a ton of videos up there (think something like tumblr, but fewer memes and more jissous) and it’s often given me some more clients from guys who look it up on Google or whatever. Besides, I like to entertain people. Who doesn’t?

Anyways, that task done thanks to the ease of Microsoft Movie Maker (/sarcasm), I pick up my clipboard, remove the top sheet, and check the next one. It’s blank. Actually, it’s nonexistent; I’m staring at the wooden back. Hmm, that means until tonight I have nothing work-related to do. Cool.

So, it’s about 1:45 in the afternoon. I have about 7 hours to kill before I print out my work for tomorrow and hit the sack. I stand for a few minutes, thinking of some way to occupy myself, since I’m one of those guys who will go fucking insane if I’m not doing something. Looking over, the Mailslot of Doom catches my eye. I do need to test it, might as well do it since I’m done working 3 hours earlier than usual. Ah, what the hell. Let’s do it.

First things first. My real front door has no mail slot, so I can’t take the mechanism off the freestanding door and slap it on the other door, and trying to cut one out with a jigsaw is just asking for pain. My back door is a sliding glass door with a sliding metal door behind, so that doesn’t work either. And let’s face it, even a jissou will call shenanigans if they see a random door standing upright in the middle of the yard. Therefore, the Mailslot of Doom will replace my front door. Safety won’t be compromised, it’s an iron door, and jissous will have even less of a chance of getting in. The only issue will come while I switch the doors. I’m no lightweight, and the wrenchwork isn’t a problem, it’s the fact that I’ll have a huge entry point for all the feral jissous that definitely want in, not to mention the PETA crazies I now have to worry about as well. It’s sad when my precautionary preparations will take longer than what I’m preparing for, but the risk of ferals and insane people getting in is not one I’m willing to accept.

Upstairs I go, into my room.

“Hello, Mr – uh, Justin, techi!” Sarah greets me, managing to remember that calling me Mr. Man gives me a heart attack every damn time. Looks like she just woke up. She sleeps during the day, anyway. And the night. Jissous love to sleep, it appears.

“Hello, Sarah. You can come down now, I’m done working.”

“Oh, okay, techi.”

She walks out of the room. I take little notice, and stroll to my cabinet. I grab my holster with my Glock in and strap it on, and also grab my anti-jissou pellet gun, which goes in my waistband because I’d rather have a bruise on my crotch than a bloody hole. Lethal force and anti-jissou weaponry. Thankfully, that new ‘castle’ law came into effect, so I can fire on someone if they try to break in and just say that I thought they were going to do me harm or fuck with my house, or something like that. To be honest, as much as it seems like I’m obsessing about these PETA freaks, I’m not really worried about them. They may have extremists in their ranks, but mostly they just piss me off and nothing more. Jissous, on the other hand, are slightly more dangerous since they can breed like fucking rabbits. To that end, I get a plastic baby gate I used when Sarah was slightly less careful with the stairs and a plastic sheet.

Back downstairs, I set the baby gate up outside the doorway and cover it with the plastic sheet. I make a makeshift barricade behind me out of random foyer detritus and cover it with another sheet, to catch any jissous that make it inside long enough that I’ll detect and end them. Now, the fun bit.

I take a screwdriver and pull the bolts from the hinges. I then give a good yank to the door handle and let the door fall back on me. I catch it (easier said than done, iron doors are heavy) and carry it into my little makeshift workshop. On the way back, I bring the Mailslot of Doom with me, which is significantly harder due to the fact that it has about 25 pounds of mechanics strapped to it, not to mention the car battery that powers the whole assembly. I set it down in the position a door would be had I opened it. I take a moment to check my barricades. There’s a small crowd of jissous at the end of the driveway, which is perfectly fine by me, they’ll all try to shove their progeny into the Doomslot. I count them, and guesstimate a good 12 individual adults, with 6 kojissous, what appears to be 7 thumbs, and the 7 maggots they’re holding, with more possibly in the middle of the group. Suddenly, one adult looks over, notices me and the open doorway, and heads my way, faint cries of “Mr. Man desu!” preceding her. Putting all of my quickdraw practice to work, I smoothly draw my pellet gun and send a plastic BB her way. It hits her leg, and she drops, not 5 feet from the group.

“Huh, desu?” Her brain takes a second to register the pain. Surprising, that’s a trait you only see in maggots. It doesn’t really matter, the result’s the same.

“MY LEG DEGYAAA!”

“Dinner is served!” I yell, since it don’t take a crystal ball to see what’s coming. Indeed, I can spot a kojissou already eyeing Mama with a hungry eye. Most people freak out when they see children eating mothers, but I don’t. I say it’s payback for the mother’s greed and infanticide. If your mother ate your siblings right before your eyes and denied you what little real food you had in favor of her, wouldn’t you take revenge if you got the chance? Well, maybe you wouldn’t eat her, but you’re also not a jissou.

Anyways, I ignore the feasting and lift the door onto its hinges. I slip the first bolt in, and the second, and finally the third. Thankfully, the doors are perfect matches, and the entire assembly is opening and closing perfectly. I add the battery on, and flip the ‘on’ switch. Nothing happens, and I panic for a moment before remembering that there’s a motion sensor in it so that it doesn’t burn the battery out by running constantly. I open the door and wave my hand in front of the mail slot, and the black box shudders and whirs. All systems are go, it seems. I provide the wounded mother, who now has half-disappeared into 5 stomachs but still has the energy to scream, a merciful death by way of 5 plastic BBs to the skull. I set up another of my innumerable mini-cameras up, add the legally required “You’re being recorded, smile!” sign, take my impromptu barrier down, and close the door.

While I’m clearing the internal version of the barricade, Sarah appears. “What’s that thing, techi?” Her arm is aimed at the black box.

“It’s something that’ll keep the bad jissous outside.”

“How does it do that, techi?”

“Well, there’s wheels inside, so if a maggot-chan or kojissou were to be put in the mail slot by a mother, it would be thrown out.”

“Would it hurt them, techi?”

“Depends. A kojissou’d probably come out fine. A thumb would be a bit sketchy, but maggots have a tendency to not survive, ‘cause everything comes out of there going pretty fast.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, Sarah’s an inquisitive one, in case you’ve missed the entire dialogue up there. Honestly, if you’ve ever seen a 10 year old child (which is where I’m estimating her IQ would lie if I gave her the test), you wouldn’t be surprised at her curiosity. Despite that, I’ve still to figure out her attitude to her less-intelligent cousins. She’s usually ambivalent about the situation, like “okay, ferals are going to die, whatever.” Even when the screams from my thinly-veiled abusing reach upstairs, she just complains about the noise. It’s weird, and more unsettling than if she were a sadist like me. Of course, if she raged every time I ended another jissou’s worthless life, that’d be a real problem, but thankfully that’s absolutely not the case. Unknown opinions aside, she heads off into the living room and turns on the TV that she magically learned to operate. The sickening sounds of Spongebob Squarepants roll in as I put on my headset on and activate my computer. 2 passwords and a hidden directory later (I’m paranoid as fuck and took Computer Science, come at me Anonymous ‘hax0rz’) I’m looking at the live camera feed from outside. It’s also recording, and if this thing works like I hope it does, I’ll be putting this video up on the internet as well.

The little group in my front yard finally finishes consuming the dead mother. I quickly add a small annotation for the first 25 seconds by her that says that I had to shoot her so she wouldn’t get in my house, because even knowing I’m an abuser it’s a strange thing to have a desiccated jissou corpse in my front yard. Once I return to the live feed, a mother and trail of babies has arrived at my door. However, I’m seriously getting annoyed by the Spongebob in the background. Playing some loud rock music stops that. Hell, the lyrics are appropriate, too! “I can see them everywhere, they’re all around me, they’re waiting for me. Descending, unrelenting…”

The mother jissou knocks on my door. It doesn’t even make a noise, or so the audio visualizations say. They stand there for a moment, preforming the feral jissou’s parody of thought.

“Look, there’s an opening Mama, techi!” I turned the camera’s volume to the max, so I can easily hear this over my loud-ass music.

“You’re right, jissou-chan, desu! I’ll put you in, and you can get the Mr. Man or Mrs. Lady to open the door for me, desu!”

“Okay, techi!”

The pure innocence in that kojissou’s voice would be touching, if it weren’t planning to invade my home.

In it goes. “Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!” In case you’re wondering where the ‘techi’ is, it didn’t get to say it on account of the fact that it’s now moving at 25 miles per hour.

Yes, the system operated perfectly. Moreover, the aim on the ejection port is spot-on. The kojissou comes out and strikes the mother in the stomach. If anyone here has ever been hit by a miss-kicked football (American or European, either one hurts like a bitch), double that pain and you know what that mother is feeling. She falls over in a fetal ball, protecting her wounded stomach.

“Oooh, my stomach hurts, deshaaa…” She rocks back and forth, paws held to her stomach and shit bubbling from her panties. The ballistically-launched kojissou survives with no wounds whatsoever, attesting to the softness of a jissou’s fat rolls. “Mama, mama, are you okay, techi?” Her question is answered with a stump to the head.

“Shit jissou, hurting your mama, degya!”

“But mama, it was the door monster, it threw me at you, techa! Please, get up, techieeeeen!” Once again, paw meets face. Then stomach.

“Shut up, stupid shit jissou!”

“Why momma why tegyaaa?!” Famous last words. Literally, in cases of jissou infanticide. Literally every kojissou that has died by a mother’s hands in earshot of me or my cameras has uttered this line or a fragment of it. Strange, it’s like it was hardwired into every kojissou.

So, yes, this kojissou is pounded into paste by its own mother. Another typical day in Jissou Hell. The maggots are panicking, the thumbs are trying to calm the maggots down while they are panicking in spite of themselves, the kojissou is dying a painful death, and the mother is bleeding internally while she pulverizes her daughter.

Eventually, the kojissou is a puddle that even an enraged jissou cannot mistake for a target, so she decides to calm the fuck down. “Hungry, desu…” Obviously, a maggot just met its timely demise.

“Re? Not food, rehi! NOT FOOD REPYA-”

Meh.

“Now, jissou-chan, go open the door for me, desu! Don’t be like shit jissou, desu!”

The thumb that was selected quakes in fear at the reference to her deceased sister, and nods. She goes up into the slot, wheels begin to turn, and she is launched. This time, her lighter weight makes her angle upwards on the exit, hitting the mother directly in the head. Despite this light weight, she acts a bit like a bullet. Well, more like a rock. The mother’s head is crushed by the impact. Blood sprays everywhere, shit and maggots stream from her panties, and she falls backwards down the steps.

Another jissou mother waddles up, seeing an easy meal. She grabs one of the maggots and pops it in her mouth. She then notices the mail slot, has the same epiphany, and shoves her own children in the slot. A literally identical scenario results, complete with pulverized kojissou and bullet thumb. Another mother walks up, and the exact same thing happens.

How many more jissous are there? 12? This is going to get tedious reeeeeeeeeeeeal quick.

>>619
Oh fuck man, thanks for re-linking that old jissou centipede post, havent read it in ages..... and now I think Im due to take a few hours and re-read the archive thread and then this one.



As for your post, I laughed my ass off.

Continued from >>597

Ten Thousand Stumps
Show 4 : Spirit of the Hawk

Thierry Genestar

Since last time’s incident, we settled in quietly. Really, once I came to believe Sylvia’s story about being an orphan girl changed into a Jissouseki hybrid by a mad scientist, she opened a lot more to me. No shit. The first group of humans she met turned her into a monster, the second she met turned her into a slave. I freed her, but she was, understandably, wary around me, until that night.
We drank and drank, and opened our hearts to each other. I told me my story, she told hers. It was fascinating. She believed to be a test subject, yet escaped to her freedom, and learned the terrible truth only after several months. I told everything about my past week, including jissou-chan, but evidently she couldn’t handle the gin. She quickly started to make no sense, kind of just fell into the sofa, and lost every memory of the evening beyond the telling of her own story.
To be fair, the gin was Tanqueray brand. Ten percent stronger than most gins when it comes to alcohol percentage. You better believe I made sure the guns were hidden before we began.


Anyway, we are two days later. Sylvia has explored the underground a bit more and gathered some safe specimens to populate the kitchen. We now have every age of jissou readily available for consumption and reproduction without having to get outside.
As for me, I’ve skimmed through everything I could get my hands on, on both the computer and the bookshelves. Well, the bookshelves, mostly. And even if there was no diary or anything that convenient, I did find some things about the history of the place.
A letter lost in some drawer was addressed to a certain “L.D”, was about four years old and referred to project Falconer. This sweet codename refers to the core of all the recent shenanigans : the crystal control technology. The letter was about how they managed to create a computer interface to the crystals, which was obviously a major milestone.
I didn’t find the reply to that letter, but it does confirm this villa was part of the same organization that “created” Sylvia. Because after all, we made somewhat of a leap of faith here : Just because Sylvia visited the place doesn’t automatically mean her lab was directly related. Could have been the competition, for one.
But the real bummer is, the only “proof” we have for this organization being the one the good General is actually looking for is the gargantuan colony. For all we know, we’re just helping with Sylvia’s evil group while ours is making soufflés in a volcano near Polynesia.
At least, that was the bummer until I opened the ring binder labeled “JMC Hypothesis”.
Most of it was math bullshit, but, I saw a handwritten letter in a plastic sheet. It was, in all likelihood, something of a first draft. It wasn’t signed nor dated, and the sheet of paper was perfectly smooth, without any fold marks.
It read as follows :

“My dear collaborators.

We are no strangers to ethical dissensions, and while in the past I had made myself the voice of reason, I must now become the devil’s advocate. All of you are aware that the JMCDC Theory, formerly known as the JMC hypothesis, have implications that are both possibly the grandest milestone of human knowledge, and the endgame of all our endeavors. You are also aware that getting enough data cannot be done without inflicting some serious, if not shocking, damage to the environment in general and urban environment in particular.

However, the sheer implications of the theory simply cannot, you must realize, allow any second thoughts.
Since the beginning, our goal was to trample giants.
This is about to happen.”

…Aaaand that is pretty fucking ominous, isn’t it ?
Yup. I’d say we are in the right place.
On the other hand, the computer stays resolutely unhacked. I’m trying to google how to access private files but nothing I find makes any sense to me. As far as I understand from the screenshots I have to launch DOS somehow ? Bitch, I don’t want to hear about your 20th century complex. Just give me something where I can click all the buttons in succession and call it tech support.

“Hello.”

Jumping in my chair, I take my flashball gun, swearing, and point it at the source of the voice.
A woman. Somewhere in her thirties. Dressed casually, but with a good touch of class nonetheless. Auburn hair tied in a ponytail. Seeing me drawing my gun, she backs up a little, hands uncovered.
I ask the obvious question.

“Who the fuck are you ?”

———————————

So I told them both my story.

“Weird, it feels like I’ve heard that story before, desu…”
“Uh, yeah, I told you two days ago but you got too hammered to remember it.”
“Hammered ?” Angrily reacted Lynn. “She’s a minor.”

I look at her seriously. She’s right, of course, but she didn’t hear her story yet.

“Look, we’re both civil servants, I damn well know you don’t serve shooters to kids for several excellent reasons, but she’s the very definition of the word “exception” and trust me, she was worse off sober at the time.”
“Sure she was.” She replies, calmly and clearly not impressed. “At any rate, you’re saying that whoever used to own this house is hell-bent on massive destruction ?”
“Well, actually, I found pretty recently some evidence of that, buried within pages of science stuff. You should be able to confirm or infirm that.”
“What is your opinion on what you found, for starters ?”
“It was on a ring binder labeled “JMC Hypothesis”. Like I said, it had tons of stuff I couldn’t understand for the life of me. But inside, I did find something readable. A manuscript first draft of what was obviously some kind of company letter. Basically, it said the people behind this facility were after some groundbreaking scientific discovery, but that in order to confirm it, they were bound to do some real damage to cities.”

The CSI merely raised an eyebrow, Sylvia was speechless.

“I can show you the letter right now if you want.” I precised.
“Please do…”
“Holy fuck there’s some serious shit going on there, desu !”

I headed to the table where I left the letter and handed it to Lynn. Sylvia got behind her, on her toes, to read it as well.

“Mh, certainly looks like someone who wants some results out of a lab as fast as possible.”
“What does he mean by “trampling giants”, desu ?”
“Dwarves standing on the shoulders of giants…”
“What, desu ?”
“It’s a metaphor. A scientist stands on the collective human knowledge gathered before him, and he, himself, is just making his small contribution.”
“So” I intervene, “it means this guy believes that…whatever they’re after is going to be so revolutionary, Lavoisier and Einstein will no longer matter ?”
“It certainly is the logical conclusion.”
“And, it’s possible, desu ?”
“Hmpf” snorts Lynn. “Of course not.”
“Yeah, it does sound a little too grandiloquent. But still, you should take a look at the science data, maybe you’ll understand a bit more about this…theory they have.”
“It’s certainly worth a try.”
“Well, I left the ring binder in the study. Remember, JM…”
“Yes, I’ve got it.”

She goes upstairs, Sylvia behind her, leaving a good half of her fried adult jissou behind.
Damn.
I refrained from saying it since she probably gets that all the time, but that Lynn is basically IRL Sara Sidle. She’s beautiful and dignified in every way, she’s smart, knowledgeable, and clearly, clearly no-bullshit.
It was obviously her who divorced from that ass David, not the contrary.
Just a shame that I managed to confess to her the one damn law-breaking act I’ve done my entire life.
Dammit, I know it was wrong. But Sylvia really was worse off sober.

Lynn Beckett

“That’s interesting.”
“What is, desu ?” Says, excitedly, David’s killer.
“The entire file. It’s a KDD process.”
“KDD, desu ?”
“Knowledge discovery in databases. Better known as data mining. It’s…a complex branch in computer engineering where you analyze enormous amounts of data to try and find a previously unknown pattern.”
“Oookay, desu.”

Sigh.

“Trying to find if there’s anything interesting in a whole bunch of stuff.”
“Doesn’t sound very revolutionary, desu.”
“Yeah I…don’t really imagine data mining crushing Newton’s laws. That letter’s crazy talk.”
“Too bad, it sounded awesome, desu. But…what were they studying ? What did they find to make them say that, even if they’re wrong, desu ?”
“Well, the papers are pretty much all the same : descriptions of the protocols used, which samples yielded results, adjustments made over time…There’s no mention of the end result or what they were mining in the first place. But I think it’s a safe bet is has to do with the Jissouseki.”
“Because there’s so much outside, right, desu ?”
“That, and the “J” in JMCDC.”
“Hm…”

I raise my head from the files. Since the beginning of the conversation, the small jissou-human hybrid stood perfectly still behind me, from a surprisingly large distance. Intrigued, I turn my head and look at her. She backs away for just a nudge.

“What’s wrong ?”
“N…Nothing, desu.”
“I’m no interrogator, but it’s obvious you want to ask me something.” I say, trying to smile to…that.
“You…You saw mistress, desu ?”
“I…guess you mean my daughter, Samantha ?”
“Yes, desu ! I know I killed someone really important to her, and I feel like shit but…she’s a complete stranger to the hatred I felt for him, she has to be, desu. Tell me she doesn’t know, desu.”

The confession of a killer. No idea how to handle this. Absolutely none. My business is microscopes.
But the truth is always the best answer.

“Well, as is to be expected in this type of situation, she’s shattered by her father’s death, but the reason I’m here is because she begged me to find you. She still believed in you.”
“Hey, what are you implying, desu ? I never betrayed her, desu !”
“Sure, you just killed the human being she depended on most.”
“That’s because he did something inhuman to me, desu. Even if I tried to I couldn’t have let him go, desu.”

Oooh brother. I almost forgot why I divorced him, what with him being dead and all. Of course, that doesn’t justify murder in any way but…

“I know, he’s…promiscuous with his jissous.”
“What, desu ? Ah, you mean what he did with Stella, desu…No, it’s another thing, worse, desu.”

I…Worse ?

“Another thing ?” I reply after a three-second blank, perplexed. “What ?”
“He enslaved me, desu.”

Wow.
A jissou that qualifies being taken as a pet as “enslavement”. It’s like a fish that would suddenly decide to fly several miles straight into an active volcano : it’s mechanically impossible, it’s absolutely unprecedented, and there’s no reason whatsoever to do it. I know for a fact that David has spoiled her rotten, so it can only be pride talking. And a jissou has no pride, only entitlement.

“You didn’t like being a pet ?”
“I like my freedom better, desu.”
“Why ?”
“Because I am not a jissouseki. I only look like one, desu.”
“Well, even that…”
“The people behind this place, desu. They took an orphan girl and implanted a jissou crystal in her spine, desu.”
“What…are you saying ?” I say, my voice beginning to break. This…can’t be good.
“That turned her into a monster, desu. Into me.”
“Do you have proof ?”

The strong tone of my voice startles her a bit.

“Well, they…sort of destroyed the lab where I was created, desu…”
“Understand, I’m not doubting you here. I like this explanation better than the freak miracle never attempted again.”
“Yeah, Thierry said the same thing, desu…”
“But we have to start collecting evidence to put those mad scientists on death row.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“You can do that, desu ?”
“Well, if I can’t, then I don’t want to have anything to do with the legal system for the rest of my life.”
“Death row is kind of more awesome than just shooting them, desu…” Says the girl, as if weighing the pros and cons.

I get up. I shouldn’t get that worked up, that is completely unprofessional. She killed my ex-husband. She’s a monster.
But she didn’t become a monster by herself.

Thierry Genestar

I sit on the terrace, in a long chair, looking at the cloudy sky.
Shouldn’t I be inside, making sure the house doesn’t shift from “Lair of a big matriarch, stay the fuck away” to “Human house, please harass” ?
Well, hypothetical attentive reader, you should know what the problem is, don’t you ?
That’s right ! Mrs.Beckett already blew up our cover.
And as we speak -albeit at an incredibly slow pace- a good detachment of vagrant jissous are climbing the mountainside.
Twenty steps, thirty-seconds pause. Twenty steps, thirty seconds pause, maggot snack. Rinse and repeat. They’re damn serious about getting there, but can’t really go faster than that. Some mamas exhort their kojissous to press foward, others just leave them behind, but I strangely see none carrying their daughters. Presenting one like a doll is, after all, a staple of their Mr.Man-goading.
The effort they make is just that great.

I hear someone stepping behind me.

“Hey, what are you doing outside, desu ? Shouldn’t we be staying indoors, desu ?”
“The CSI fucked that plan already. Now that they know we’re here, they won’t fall for that trick.”
“Come on, they won’t remember forever, desu.”
“True, but even if Lynn’s arrival is lost to the memories of each jissou individual, the knowledge will remain in the group. Vague as it is, the info “humans are in this villa” is critical to any jissou, so it will go around and around and around in the community, permanently refreshing their individual memories as it goes back and forth with the word of mouth. That’s why we can only use the Judas Priest trick with a freshly cleansed house.”
“Back and forth…It works that way, desu ?”
“Well, it’s that, or accepting a sort of hive-mind theory and we don’t quite have evidence of this yet. Says Steph, anyway. Oh by the way, where’s Lynn ?”
“She went back to the files to find evidence of my transformation, desu.”
“Ah, you didn’t lose any time to tell her.”
“Yeah, no, desu. Anyway, the jissous are almost here, what’s our new plan, desu ?”

I snicker.

“Behold, child, the power of a professional exterminator.”

I raise my hand up in the air, and pull the trigger.
A high-pitched, very loud scream can be heard, catching the attention of everyone around. All can see the red trail flying upward in the sky. And then, three seconds later, an bright red explosion.
I dramatically blow on the gun.

“Modified flare delivering a highly intense bright red explosion akin to professional-grade fireworks. Only issued to certified exterminators. Instantly impregnates jissous in a good kilometer radius while causing enough eye damage to make them go blind from several hours to an entire day. Basically turns the jissou overpopulation against them, making them way too busy with their maggots to look for human homes. The most unfortunate mamas get cannibalized by their own surprise offspring. Your fucking move, Jissouseki.”
“You…could…have warned me, desu !” Protests Sylvia, rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, hush, it can’t even destroy a jissou’s eye.”

I get up my chair and look at the mountain flank. As expected, the surprise made many a mama roll down a good distance. They’re all completely still, panting, swelling up like balloons.

“Why can’t I see, desha ?”
“Am I…having babies, dee ?”
“Stop growing, maggot-chans, I must go to Mr.Man’s house, desha !”

The pregnancy flare is one hell of a weapon, but, for obvious reasons, only effective in the wild, where overpopulation can be a problem for them. I didn’t use it back in Annecy because it would just have been asking for trouble. But for protecting a completely isolated house surrounded by Jissouseki ? It’s perfect.

“Okay, better now, desu…” Says sylvia, having recovered quickly from the flash. “But, when they stop being blind, they’ll just get back to the house, right, desu ? I mean, just because they have food in the form of maggots won’t make them forget about becoming a goddamn pet, desu.”
“Nope, it’s not about that. A mama striving for pet status is counting on her daughters, even not consciously. When you have a sea of maggots at your feet, you can’t very well go home hunting, because they know kojissous are far better. Simple as that. Thus, we can count on a whole week of peace and quiet.”
“I see, desu.”
“The only think I’m concerned about is, of course, the metropolis. Who knows what can happen in there. But I still have two flares, so…we should be good for a while. Oh, by the way, what were you fucking thinking when you activated the recording, the night you committed a freaking murder ?!”

“Huh, well, huh…I lost my freedom only because that piece of shit Stella thought of activating it so…I kinda thought about proving I was better than a bitch recording, desu.”
“…Best just heading up to sleep, what do you say ?”

Sylvia

It’s the evening, and Mistress’s mom is still at it. Wow. I would have gotten out of all this paper faster than you can say degya.

“You know, I thought you would at least come ask what the “bang” sound was several hours ago, desu.”
“Why bother anyone with that ?” she calmly answers without even getting her sights out of the files. “I saw the red light it emitted, and knowing that guy is an exterminator, it follows that it involved the quick jissou pregnancy…Which cannot possibly be good for the critters at such a scale. I don’t even have to look out the window to know they are devouring the flesh of their flesh. Hmpf. Disgusting creatures.”
“Hm, well, I guess you are a detective, desu.”
“Well don’t go thinking I can solve crimes by looking at a single bullet casing.”
“I don’t, Samantha explained me, desu.”

She looks at me, obvious surprise on her face.

“She did ?”
“Well, yeah, desu, why ?”
“Because I…was fairly certain she was convinced I’m some kind of super-cop.”
“No ! She’s even tired of explaining that at school, desu.”
“School…I…I didn’t realize you lived with her much more than I did. Huh…”

Somehow, I felt that as a big compliment, and hung out to her lips, hoping to be helpful.

“Yes, desu ?”
“What was your relationship with her, exactly ?”
“Well, I’m supposed to be her pet, but I guess I was more like the sister who couldn’t leave home, desu.”
“And…what did she think of me ?”
“Aside from “I wish mom was here” every now and then, desu ? Well…that’s about it, really, desu…She never understood why you and her father got separated but wanted it to have never happened, desu.”
“Sammie…She’s too young to understand the reason. But you already know. Her dad fucked the pet jissouseki he bought.”
“Hm, yeah, Stella basically gloated about it all the goddamn time, desu.”
“Yeah…”

She finally gets up, away from those files.

“Sorry, but…I’m still not sure what to think about all this.”

After making so much progress talking about our family, she seems to just shut me off. I understand, but I want to…

“Let’s talk another time.”

I want her to acknowledge me. But she’s already gone.
Aaah, this sucks ! I suck ! Why would I even want to be her daughter ? That’s just not going to fucking happen. The other me is lame and stupid.
Stupid !
A family is…would be nice, but I can’t tell for sure. Unlike all those Jissouseki in the valley. Those are awesome and I’m certain of it. They have multiplied by ten or so thanks to the flare. It already was a bit of a mess, but now the whole damn ground is covered in maggots. There’s not really any conflict, being that they are nearly all blind right now, but even those who dodged the bullet don’t seem to make a move against the blind ones.

There’s just mass confusion.

So why, in a group so dense the only reaction to being owned at this scale is just standing here confused, could there be anything of value to find with this data mining shit ?

Bah, let Mom figure out. I think I’ll pay another visit to the underground tomorrow.

Mom ?

I need to stop doing this.

Suddenly I'm imaging sara silda making out with a Jissou.

Good post inleaves.

622
Wat

>>621

Nice one once again. Sylvia is just as bad a drunk as envisioned. Also on the subject of Sylvia, I can see some awkward moments with her and Lynn coming up.

>>623
Wat
re-read, see who Lynn is said to look like, and >622 will make sense.

I think we all got who it was referring to. The Wat still stands.

>>624 was me, forgot to tripcode, incase anyone doubted.


>>625 The Wat still stands

rule34 on Sylvia and Lynn, or as Fperson put it.......
I can see some awkward moments with her and Lynn coming up.

>>626

No, actually, I meant Sylvia slipping up and acting like Lynn's daughter (Calling her mom, stuff like that). Quite frankly, I'm trying to avoid envisioning that certain scenario there. I continue to Wat, good sir.

>>627
I still call rule34

>>619
Thank you Fperson for continue this series, it deviously cientific. please more!


>>588 Tomoe
I love this series of you, hope you can delivar more, i want to read Gorgo kicking dirty jissou ass with the help of her offsprings. A family army of Jissouseki, that would be awesome.

>>629
Yeah, I deffinitly plan moar, cant promise quick tho, I write when I have the time and am in the mood too, so sometimes you may get frequent posts, others none for a while.

>>630

Yay! also bump

A Room with a Desu c1


I casually strolled through the park, trying to be careful of the tiny odd-eyed cats hiding in the bushes, trees and grass ready to bombard me with shouts of “TAKE ME HOME DESU!” and “Take me home rechu~” and “Home refu~”.As I walked past the pond’s long streaming reeds I heard teensy tiny cries behind me of “Rarfu!Help me rarfu!” “Save us techu!Need home techu!”I looked down and saw a little child holding up her maggot sister.”Where’s your mama-jissou?” “Mama went to sleep.She never woke up techi.” “Well, come here.”I reached out my hand out and the child happily hopped on.I put them in my pocket where they curled up.I heard tiny little snores and jogged home to check out my new pets.
When we got home I took out the two little jissou and set them on the floor.The child stretched and sat up while the maggot woke up with a squeal.”Wow,big house techi!”I went to get them food,as they were very skinny and the maggot’s cocoon was loose.I remembered reading about some maggots being fed some different things.Four were filled with water,four others mud,four eating plants,and the last four eating animals.The waters got bellyaches but were okay,the muds were licking the walls to get out the taste,the plants were happy,and two animals got fed fish and the others snails.The snails got sick and died,but the fish were fine.Taking that knowledge into hand,I got an eyedropper filled with water and some salted carrots,as well as some canned tuna.I fed the little babies and they got a bit full and their bellies got puffy.The maggot’s cocoon was a bit too tight and I rubbed her belly to help it digest easier.”Do you want a rub too?”I asked the child and she squeaked no,but I gave her half a teaspoon of pepto bismol just to be sure.The maggot curled up and wrapped her stubby legs around her belly and the child just sat down.I let them rest and went outside.
“DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZHAAAAAAAAAA! WHY DIDN’T YOU TAKE ME DESU?!”
Outside was a raging wild mother.I kicked her and took her to the kitchen.My babies would get some fried jissou tonight!
Before I amputated and fried the poor mother,I decided to have some fun.Note that I say mother because she was quite fat,from eating so much to poo a lot and feed her babies,but she probably became a glutton and ate them.I ripped off her clothes and ripped them in front of her face.”ORORORON MY CLOTHES DESU!”I then ripped out her hair and smeared the blood that ebbed out all over her.I then used a knife to take out her intestines,kidneys,bladder,and pancreas.I then stuffed her with meat and veggies,stuffing her orifices with fruit.I ground up the organs I took out and sprinkled them over her.I then sliced off her hands and feet.By now the jissou was begging for mercy,flailing around the chopping block.I then hung up her limbs by some meat hooks and hung her on a rack.I then swung the rack into a walk-in oven I had.
“DEZHAAAAARARRAWWGHRRRLLLLL OGHORLGORLORRL DWAYTHUAHGHRNL!...waythayagraghhl…sssun…wa…”
The jissou burnt up and roasted,screaming until her skin was crackling,her insides were by-products and she was stone dead.As she wailed at first her voice was clear,then foggy,then unable to make out,then sizzling,and finally crispy as her vocal cords were burnt up into useless crackling.She still continued to flail until her body was so crispy it would bleed if she breathed,then she blinked,until she finally gave out as her heart and brain were cooked.I removed the body and removed the eyes and teeth.”Okay,dinner’s ready!”My pets ate the roast happily.I put them to bed and ate the rest before sleeping myself.

>>632

You really, really, REALLY need to take Writing 101, because block-o-text and grammar issues makes this thing pretty fucking hard to read.

Ah, REd, your usual charming self I see.

Certainly it is blocky and rushed by this thread's standards. Some people have a hard time reading on a screen and one should be thoughtful by providing a much less dense presentation than it is customary in hardcover books.

But this is less than twenty lines long; it's not "pretty fucking hard to read" by any stretch of the imagination.

Anyway, thank you for contributing, >>632.

>>633
Agreed. That said, I suspect the pets are in for fun.
Or the humans in for an infestation.

>>632

Nice a little rushed, there are some errors but i like it goes straight to the point.
Just make smaller paragraphs and practice a little bit.

Loved the reference to "Civilisation J", the good doctor and his SCIENCE! I miss him.

Hope you continue this tale Anon.

>>633
>>635

People, if you have so much time for complaining, start writing.
At least the anon in >>632 is contributing.

Despite it being a rushed story, in a single block of text,is actually pretty interesting.

Better than the almost nothing we have had the last weeks.

>>637
People, if you have so much time for complaining, start writing. o'rly ?

Lets take a look in this thread and see how valid your statement is mr ID: 3e86da.

You singled out two people, REd and myself
With REd if you go to post six, ( here's a link >>6 since Im assuming youre not big on reading the thread) you'll see his first contribution to the thread.

Oh, furthermore, if you go back to the OLD thread, the FIRST Jissouseki thread, guess who got it started.

Thats right. REd. he was the very first to contribute on this subject, four years ago.
http://orz.gurochan.net/lit/archive/1227136933

And myself ?

>>299
>>304
>>533
>>538
>>574
>>588
>>600
>>604



Conclusion: you sir, are an idiot.

>>638
HEY! DO READ WHAT I ACTUALLY WROTE.
I'm not saying both of you didn't write awesome stuff. You did, really did. Awesome. But its actually SOME time since REd had wrote something. I Just said that, if both of you have time to complain, you should start updating and writing. Only that. I would write, if I had that gift.
And the anon in >>632 is just starting, don't crucify him.

>>638
AND I read both the great archive and this thread here entirely.

>>639
Ah, ok.
Na, neither of us were saying he was shit, just that he needed to spellcheck/format it a little better.

It's called constructive criticism, can at time seem to be the normal asshattery expected from the *chans (and often is) but if listened to has the effect of improving whatever it's commenting on.

As for writing more, well as I've said repeatedly, I just don't have the time quite often.

If I'm going to write more, I'm going to wait til I have the time AND inclination (IE: know exactly where I want it to go) to do it right, rather than halfass it.

Not that I don't halfass it on occasion, however when re-reading it, I decide to just close the tab rather than hitting reply.

Jissou Anticonceptive.

Just call me Isaac.
I have been working on this company since the begining. After graduation this was the only company that took my short resume.

It all started small. A single Warehouse and a R&D lab, where the success of this company was discovered: Jissou Anticonceptive. It was by mere chance that they discovered the anticonceptive. They actualy were developing poisons and repelents.

Five years have past since then and the company now has more than 9000 employes arround the world. And I am a Quality control manager now, pretty good after starting as a mere worker.

But you may be asking yourself why people want somenthing as jissou anticonceptives?

Well, people that has jissou as pets may not want their houses to get full of little jissouseki every now and then. Also the alternative of surgical castration has proven to be bad for the general health of the jissouseki. They become weak an get sick more often.

But the real bussines is our brand of poison.

The problem with other poisons is the little inteligence of the jissouseki, with time they avoid poisons after seeing their peers die a painfull dead. Some times things get worse as the dead throbes cause an emergency brith. You kill one jissou but twelve maggots survive the dead mother. With slow action poison the jissou start to develop tolerance quite fast so it gets useless after a while. And they may have shat a bunch of pups before die.

Ours is an efective slow action poison mixed with the anticonceptive. Even if the jissou survives it will be steryle and wont be shitting more pups for a long time. It has proven to be very effective as populations of jissou decrease quite fast after using it. YOu know why?, because they eat each other faster than they shit maggots. And as an extra the exterminators have an easy job capturing a population of mostly adults.

Today Im going to make a test. The kid who usually do it is sick. But Its okay this is entertaining.

First, the test subjects, six jissouseki mature enough to reproduce. Two street jissou, two pet grade jissou, and two "lab jissou". Each one is on a plastic bin. All asleep.

The street jissou were captured this morning, they had children but abandoned then for candy and a house. The candy was Valium, the house will be this lab just for today. The pet grade jissou were buyed from a local pet store. They also had children, and were sold cheap because they were old for the retailer standart. And the lab jissou are the youngest of the lot, they are almost as good as hi-class jissou, but are bald naked and were rised in a laboratory in order to be used for experimentation, they are more expensive than pet class but cheaper than a hi-class.

Okay lets begin, I will inject one of each tipe with the anticonceptive, the others will be control samples. First the street jissou, carefully a lift its dress, as usual dirty pantys and foul odor. I inject the jissou quickly, it wakes up wailing, thats good I need it awake. Then I shake the other jissou´s bin so it wakes up too.

Now the pet grade, it is already waking up because of the wailing of the street jissou so I quickly lift its dress and lower a bit its pantys to inject it. It jumps almost breaking the needle and starts to cry. "Why mister man hurt me desu?"

Then the street jissou protests. "Shit human desu! Give me food now desu" to that the other street jissou, the control sample retorts "I am your new pet desu! Why is shit jissou in my house desu! Give me food and kill that shit jissou desu!"

Ok time to put on the earplugs. I can still hear them but in a tolerable level.

"Ororon, master there are nasty jissou in here desu! It dangerous desu" says the injected pet grade.

"Master whats that noise desu, where are my babies desu?" now the control sample is awake, it seem it was sleep before it was separated from its children.

I do my best to ignore them and go to the lab jissou. It is already awake sitting in a corner of the bin, it looks directly to me then to the needle. It knows whats comming. I get closer and it starts cowering in the corner of the bin. Then it puts her arm straight towards me. She knows what I am going to do and it seem she prefer to be injected in the arm but I make clear that I need to inject her in the rear. I grab her from the arm and lift her so her butt is facing me then I inject her quick. "Tee! Teee!" She protests. I put her down and she rubs her behind.

The other lab jissou is staring at me, quiet and motionless.

I take some sugary candies and give them to the jissous. That stops the complains and pestering of the street jissous and eases the pet jissous. The lab jissous on the other hand seem wary of the candies and taste them slowly first before eating them. Now to wait a few minutes while the medicine works.

First test: red die.

I grab a big syringe and fill it with commercial red die, that often is used to cause a red eye pregnancy. I go to the first jissou, licking its paws the sugar that left of the candie. It looks up at me expectantly. "I want more cand-!" -I shoot it in the green eye before it finish its demand. "Shit human desu! what you do desu!" Its eye turns red and its belly rumbles a little, "DE- feel weird desu!" But nothing happens she just shits her panties but no jissous are born from her. "De, weird desu."

Now the control sample. It also looks up at me hoping for more candy, instead she recives red die in the gree eye. "DE! shit human what do desu!" its belly gets swollen and half a minute latter a litter of 6 maggots are sharing the bin whit her. "I see, you wanted me to have babies so we can live together and ead good food desu." I turn arround and go to the pet grade bin.

The pet jissou is trying to peek over to see me. "Master can I go out is lonely in here desu." I answer that with a shot of red in the green eye. "DE, why master, desu? Why you hurt me desu?" As with the street jissou her belly rumbles, she runs to the corner of the bin and lowers her panties just in time to shit without soiling herself. "Im sick desu?". I go to the control sample.

I repeat what I did before. The control sample of pet jissou has, just as the control sample of street jissou, a litter of babies, four thumb chan and two maggots. "Now I have new babies desu! Master can I show then to my other babies desuka." I just turn arround and go to the last two.

Same result, the injected jissou just shits, but no babies. The control sample does have a litter. "No, no dont come Techi! I dont want babies Techi! Go back techi! the world is terrible techi!" Its kind of funny how she tries to push her pups back into her vaganus. Just four thumbchan and a maggot.

So far so good. I repeat the test with a red lazer, and the same result in each case. Now the control samples have their paws full of pups, while the injected jissou remain alone.

Finally a test of fear, now this is the funny part and the fastest. I take out of safe case 6 cherry bombs. I do my best to lit them all at the same time and throw one in each bin. Then as quick as i can cover each bin with their lids.

All the jissous protests.

Injected: "Shit human you are abuser shit human take me out or i kill you decha!!"
Control: "Shit daugther dont bring that thing close, put it down, shit human take me out desu!"

Injected: "Master this is dangerous take me out desu"
Control: "Master my babies will get hurt desu help! desu!"

Injected: "What is this desu?! Im scare techa!"
Control: "Please take my daugthers out techi! just then dont kill them techi!"

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! All the bombs explode almost simultaniusly. Good thing this room is soundprof.

All the lids go off and fall to the floor, I check the results.

All the injected jissous are in panic showing the signs of an emengency pregnancy but only soiling themself. Success.
All the control samples are in panic shitting more babies, the street jissou lost all of the maggots and a thumbchan seemed to be too close to the bomb when it exploded its just a little bloody crater. The pet jissou used its body to protect her pups, the maggots are dead thoug but the thumb chans are in panic grabbin on their mother. The lab jissou actually jumped over the bomb, its badly hurt but still is shitting maggots, the ones that she had before are dead as expected, but the thumbchans are unscatered albeit scare shitless.

Okay! We are done for today. The quality control approves!

Time to end the torture of these jissouseki. I take all the bins, put ten in a cart. The jissou still are startled some are crying weakly. And some newborns are asking for bellyrubs.

"Time for a little ride!" I say aloud so they can hear. The first time they hear my voice.

As per procedure I descart them in the furnace. Since the the quality room is in the second floor, a slide has been instaled to throw things into the furnace. There is only room for two bins at the time. First to go the street jissou.

A chorus of: Deeee! Reee! y degyaa! comes from the bins. As they slide to the fire. Then thump! and cryes of "help me shit human decha!!" overshadow those of "too hot refu". After a minute silence.

Now the pet grade bins:
Same chorus, diferent cryes: "Please help me master! im in fire Desu!", "My babies my babies DEsu! Save my babies desu! save me master DECha!" "scare refu! too hot refu, loud refu". Two minutes and then silence.

And last the lab jissou:
A single Techaaaa! in the chorus this time, guess the other jissou was too badly hurt to cry. "Dont kill techiiii! I did good techi! I dont want to die techi!", then i could hear a weakly "come my babies, lets die together, lets leave this cruel world techiii!" "Scare refu" - "Dont be scare my babie I am here we are free now techi!" "mama, mama refuuu!"

I wait a minute, and the cries cease, the plastic bins are thin and burn quickly.

Tomorrow I will have to do the same test. Well another day another dollar.

Fin

>>642
Good shit man.
Obvious English isn't you're first language, but that's one of the unavoidable issues that pops up in this thread and not really a problem.

More science please.

I was scrolling through the /g/ thread and was inspired to postpone a draft of mine and go with some semi-short semi-filler. Besides, it’s been far too long since I’ve written anything. Enjoy.

Jissou Mythbusters

Episode 5

Symptoms of Insanity

Sigh. You know you’re bored when you say the word “sigh.”

Well, the door works, that’s for damn sure. Yes, every single family of jissous shoved their offspring into my Mailslot of Doom, and received them back at highway speeds directly to the face. Probably should have seen that coming. Me, not them, for once. Oh well, the automatic return system functions like a charm. Test successful!

Of course, I now have to clean up the carcasses. Nothing a pressure-washer can’t solve, I suppose.

I head over to my neighbor’s house (He’s an abuser too, he doesn’t have an issue with me) and borrow his pressure washer. I screw the garden hose in, fill the gas tank up, and kick it into life. The kickback on one of these is actually slightly more than I’d bargained for, but I manage not to make a Youtube mistake and go flying across the yard by the hose. Instead, I take out some shrubbery that I couldn’t give the slightest shit about before I manage to get the hang of it. 750 psi doesn’t fuck around, and within moments the blood, shit, and kojissou brains are running in small channels down to the storm drain. I help it along, because I’d rather not have little Christmas-y colored streaks when the water dries. As I turn to power-scrub the sidewalk, I notice another member of the ever-present jissou menace staring hopefully at me, paw on face. I turn the engine on the pump down as much as I possibly can, to see what she’s saying. Or rather, to confirm what I already know she’s saying.

“Mr. Man! Make me your pet, desu!” Yep, thought so. I push the throttle lever all the way to the rabbit end, and the engine roars back to life. I aim the nozzle at her, and tap the trigger. Note that 1000 psi (the pump’s operational maximum) of water can strip the bones of a full-grown live human clean in a fraction of a second. Needless to say, jissou-chan here doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell against my wand of pain. The flat line of water neatly bifurcates her, and her torso lands in a pile of her own intestines. For a moment, she fails to realize what has happened, but almost immediately she divines it. She tries – and fails – to scream, though not due to lack of trying. Her face is contorted, her mouth is wide, and she essentially just looks like she’s in a lot of pain. Might as well as clean up the mess before finishing her off. As she waves her stumpy limbs, I turn the pressure down (so as to not create flying jissou bombs) and send her organs, shit, blood and newly formed (deformed) offspring down the storm drain. Finally, I turn the water back on her, cutting her in half from top to bottom, giving me perfectly preserved jissou terror in two pieces. At least, until I mulch it with the pressure and send it into the sanitary sewer. I return the pressure washer and walk into my house feeling like a boss.

It’s 3:54 P.M. and I have nothing to do. Might as well have some more fun, right? Now that I think of it, there’s a jissou colony nearby. Might have a chat with the matriarch, see what’s up.

Yes, I did just say that I was going to have a conversation with a jissou. Yes, I am likely insane, but if you didn’t already think that, you’re an idiot. However, my likely-unstable mental state actually has nothing to do with my conversing with a jissou. Jissou politics is much like American politics; it’s bloody, nasty and vicious, though the “mud” being slung is actually feces in the case of the former. Generally, a leader goes through a trial by fire to reach her position – anyone else who wants to lead a tribe has to either fight or think their way to the top. Outsmarting a jissou is an easy feat, unless you’re a jissou yourself, which means that the smartass leaders are actually smart in some practical manner, so as to get the others to follow their suggestions. So, here’s how it’s going to go: I’m going to talk to this matriarch. If she asks to be my pet, she gets tortured and murdered. If she’s stupid and got her position by force alone (the likeliest scenario) I’ll leave the colony alone and let it disintegrate when Big Mama murders all the competitors and eats all the kojissou treats. If she’s half-intelligent, I’ll actually help the colony out. Why? Because it can help with the annoying strays. Besides, it makes me look pretty half-decent to the (non-Fox) news crews, who will report that I only murder the stray problem jissous.

I walk into the forest behind my house. Surprisingly, two kojissous march up to me suddenly.

“Hello, Mr. Man! Do you have any things you can give to us, techi?”

The other chimes in: “We are inus-tree-us, Mama said, we can use anything, techi!”

Yep, the mark of a somewhat-progressive tribe. These roaming scavenger parties play off the fact that people get less pissed if asked for random trash instead of homes. Besides, it’s recycling.

“Sure, little jissous, but I need you to take me to your, uh, leader.” Cliché alien science-fiction reference completely unintended, they just wouldn’t get the meaning of “Matriarch.” If the way they mispronounced “industrious” is any indication. Which it is. Either way, I shove my hand in my pocket and retrieve…uh…nothing. Other pocket. Has something. A rubber stopper from a test tube, and a stub of a pencil. This (plus the annoying-as-fuck pocket lint that’s obligatory in all non-denim pants) I hand to the kojissous.

Their eyes shine. “Thank you, Mr. Man, techi! We can use these, techi!”

“Follow us, Mr. Man, techi!”

So I do. They’re persistent, that much is certain, as they’re clambering over tree roots that are taller than they are. When they get to a particularly high bump, one of them pushes the other up, and she helps pull the first from above. Sure, they could have gone around, but this shows some surprising teamwork. The fact that it was wordlessly performed is a good sign on 2 accounts – either they’ve done it a lot and memorized it, a major feat in a species known for not fucking learning in the wild, or it was taught to them by a larger, smarter jissou.

After about a minute of slow walking, I see some boxes set up in clear ground. Unlike normal colonies, which have them spread out haphazardly, these ones are set up in a sort of pattern, following the undergrowth. The few boxes in the open appear to have coverings of some sort without exception. Some are coated in plastic-wrap, others have some pine-straw and fallen leaves on them in a sort of pattern. All the boxes have multiple stories to them. Inside one of the ones under a bush is a jissou wearing a purple dress. Presumably she’s the monarch of this place; either she was once a pet, which means she’s fairly cunning or strong to get her spot, or she’s a regular feral who ate the former pet or found the dress floating in the wind.

The kojissous march up to the purple jissou. “Jissou-sama, we got stuff from that Mr. Man!” The other, the one with the stuff, remains silent, but holds it out in her paws. Jissou-sama gets up off her pile of leaves, and examines the stuff. I hang back, to see what she does with it. The obvious – using the pencil bit as a stake – is immediately ordered, and a nearby adult jissou runs up, takes the bit of wood, and tries to hammer it through the bottom of a cardboard box with little success. The now-confirmed matriarch takes the sizeable ball of lint and adds it to the pile of leaves behind her (good to see the standard jissou greed is still in play), obviously to use it as extra cushioning. For stuff that people toss away as useless, not half bad in the creativity department. The rubber stopper she has to think about for about a few minutes, but she eventually waves the kojissous away. They take the rubber cylinder and give it to their mama whilst yelling about a new chair, and receive head pats for their efforts.

I take this as my cue and walk up to the matriarch. Thankfully, due to her position at the top of a three-story box skyscraper (leaf-scraper?) I don’t have to kneel down to address her, but she and I both are tilting our heads at awkward angles to see each other.

“What do you want, Mr. Man, desu?” Straight to the point, none of that pet bullshit. One point to Jissou.

“I was looking for the leader of this tribe. I presume that’s you?”

“I am, desu.” She’s rather calm. Distrustful, but calm. Surprising. Two points to Jissou.

“You do know you’re on my land, right?” That’s stretching the truth, but whatever. She don’t know that.

“Huh, desu?”

“Yeah, this is my land. I could call the exterminators right now and have you all killed. But!” I say this as she tries to interject, “I like what you’ve done to this place. You’re not the ordinary jissou, and I respect that. So, I’m going to let you stay here.”

“I- Thank you, Mr. Man, desu.” I get the feeling she was going to comment on my ‘letting’ her and her ilk stay here.

“I want to tell you some things, though.”

“Like what, desu?” Spoken with legitimate curiosity. Again, not something you see in feral jissous concerning subjects that aren’t food or homes.

“The big fence that way-” I wave my hand toward my house “-is mine. Don’t go under it. It’s for your safety, because I have a lot of things there that will kill jissous. Secondly, I want you to deal with any stray shit jissous you see. I don’t care what you do, but keep them away from my house and your town. Following me so far?”

“Yes, Mr. Man, desu. Keep away from big fence and kill shit jissous, I understand, desu.”

“Alright, third thing is, I’m going to be giving you some stuff. If you’re going to stay here, I’m not going to let you get blown away in a storm or something. In fact, I’m going to do that right now. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Mr. Man, desu!”

So I was right, she’s more of a smart leader than a brute-force leader. Cool, I have an asset sitting in my back what the fuck is that wet on my leg?

“Mr. Man, refu!”

Fuck you, you green-socked bastard, these pants were fucking khaki. The maggot’s holding a flower, and appears to be scratched and clawed. Despite what I said earlier, it’s out of its sock. Obviously a stray maggot. I look at it more closely. It’s resting it’s head on the dandelion, and it is sighing in contentment like a maggot getting a belly rub. Huh. I set it down on the outskirts of the village. It was too strange to violently crush, and actually looked somewhat endearing. Besides, the mess was only on my pants and cargo pants are a dime a dozen.

I head back to my house and grab some assorted junk. Most of it is essentially trash; you know, plastic bottles, scraps of paper, the contents of the dryer’s lint trap, shit like that. I do grab some cracked lab glassware that’d have to be tossed anyway, a bottle of water, a small bag of food, and a tiny packet of colaciones. Sarah looks at me questioningly as I step out the door again, but says nothing. I carry the junk back to the tribe and set it in the open ‘commons’ area that appears to be a congregation point.

“This is all for you. Now, follow the rules I set down, and we’ll get along fine.”

“Th-thank you, deee!” The matriarch looks up at me in genuine gratitude, having noticed the water and food.

“Mr. Man is good, de!”

“I love Mr. Man, techi!”

“Punipuni refu!”

Oh dear, I’ve made a crowd. Oh well. I head back to my house. After I leave earshot of the village, I note some rustling in my lowest pocket. Opening the Velcro, I see about 5 thumbs, a very small adult (maybe an adolescent?), a maggot, and a kojissou. Once again, fuck you, these pants were fucking khaki. Fuck you all, you’re getting tortured.

I close the pocket, making a mental note to burn these pants, and head inside. The very first thing I do is electrical-tape the pocket shut, to prevent escapees. I then quickly affix some pieces of acrylic I keep around for just this type of emergency, and blowtorch them together. Next, I un-tape my pocket and add the jissous in.

“Alright, kids, you’re my new pets.” Ignoring the cheers of happiness, I add a shit pan, a food dish (with food) and a water bowl (again, with water). I want them to live. You see, this torture isn’t physical, it’s mental. You’ll see in a second.

“I’m going to take your clothes and have them washed, so take ‘em off for me.” They do, with more cheers. The maggot isn’t too happy, but a belly rub satiates it. The clothes are piled in the corner, and I take them. I quietly drop them into the trash can. I walk to my garage, and snag an old TV. I set it in front of the jissou captives, and plug it in. After fiddling with cable splitters for about 5 minutes, I get it plugged in and turned on. I switch it to channel 21, the Jissou Channel. (Yes, there’s a fucking Jissou Channel.) I then walk away, as the jissous crowd against the plastic pseudo-glass to see what’s on the TV. I set up a camera, a real, legit camcorder, and walk out of the room.

If you haven’t caught it, here’s the underlying quasi-psychology: Jissous will react adversely, even in a home, if they think that another jissou or group of jissous is being treated better than them. Initially, the reaction is anger – “Shit jissou/s is/are shit” – which is why many pets being walked by their owners are assaulted. The next reaction is envy – “I want candy/clothes/whatever” – and finally, after some time, they drop into a mind-numbing despair, curling up into a fetal ball. Even maggots will do this. This right here is the state I’m going for. Removing the clothes is one thing I can do to make the jissous in the cage feel inferior to the jissous on the TV, which will exacerbate the issue and speed the reaction a lá “I wish I had clothes.” By the way, the jissou channel literally loops jissous. That’s just it, just jissous. Well behaved, pet jissous. It’s fucking perfect for this, and it makes me wonder if the station managers weren’t abusers themselves. The only catch is that the entire thing takes about a day or two. Hence, the camera. So, now, I wait. I check the time; 4:16 P.M.

Fuck, boredom. Fuck.

End Episode 5

>>644 is me, because apparently the deletion password isn't the same despite the very obvious fact that it is.

>>643
Thank you, please point out the errors so I can improve.

>>644
frankperson you beautiful bastard, I LOLd hard at the trick at the end.

Also, enjoying the depiction of a (for jissous) civilized and well behaved tribe. Try not to write them out too quick (if at all).

>>647

I honestly looked back at that bit and was punching myself in the face. I wrote it all in two hours (midnight to 2:00, to be exact) and there was almost no description in it, at least to my eye. Glad that I was at least somewhat mistaken. But yeah, there's going to be more about that colony in the future, and the mindfucked jissous will probably get an entire chapter of their own, just to get the juicy despair-y goodness.

Well if manipulated right, forest Jissous have the potential to be very entertaining.

And I mean with no abuse directed at them even.

>>648
I honestly looked back at that bit and was punching myself in the face. I wrote it all in two hours (midnight to 2:00, to be exact) and there was almost no description in it, at least to my eye
Sounds like my normal story post.

I tried harder this time, guys!

Jissou Mythbusters

Episode 6

The Cure for Boredom

Fuck video games. Fuck ‘em to hell. It’s sad that I could probably shoot a real sniper rifle better than the fake one I tried to shoot. I blame 47 and his shaky hands. Or was the controller shaking? Ah, whatever.

So, 5:00. Now what?

I hear the whirring of the Mailslot of Doom. I give Sarah a glance, and note that she’s very absorbed in her Spongebob Squarepants TV show and super-generic lego set (Like, the generic version of the generic version; I love her but I’m still not paying full price for a lego set for her), so I think the coast is clear.

Time for fun!

I open the door. As I fully expected, there is a mother, with a maggot in her paws. The carcass of another is lying in the grass, about 3 yards behind her. Two kojissous stand beside her, two thumbs and 4 maggots at her feet. All cheer at my arrival. The mother assumes the standard ‘cute’ pose, dropping the maggot she was holding onto the head of a thumb; surprisingly neither are seriously injured (“Ouch, my head recha!” “Onee-chan is soft refu”). A pity.

“Hello Mr. Man…” I tune her out to take stock of my new playtoys. I maintain my very creepy wide smile. Only one of the kojissous finds it odd; her smile drops and her face tints blue as I look at her. The others are the usual, run-of-the-mill jissous; stupid, dirty, half-decent in appearance. All have their original dresses and maggot-socks where applicable, all have their hair. Their mother is smaller than usual, about a foot tall. She’d fit almost perfectly in my hand. The kojissous are almost her size, identical when it comes to each other (at least in the looks department, as stated already one is somewhat more intelligent), the thumbs are the size of their namesake and the maggots are maggots. I can tell right off the bat that the smart kojissou will be strapped to a chair and forced to watch the spectacle, since she’s certainly got the cognitive ability to truly feel despair and terror. The mother will be sidelined as well, but only temporarily. The maggots, thumbs, and single kojissou will be the first fodder of the day. But how to begin…

“Mr. Man? Did you hear me, desu?” The mother snaps me out of my thoughts, looking up at me with a confused expression, though her paw remains bolted to her cheek. Hmm, a thought just occurred to me… But first:

“Yes, yes, pets. Sure, why not, come inside. Don’t shit on the carpet or I kick you.” The last-minute threat seems to kick in for the kojissou, who picks up two maggots and orders her sibling to do the same. The other kojissou grumbles, but complies. The thumbs together carry the fifth maggot, the one that fell, considering that she’s the same size as them. They follow me past a door with a sticky note on it. It says in my very bad handwriting: “Don’t open this fucking door.” At least, I think that’s what I wrote. I can’t tell. That door hides the jissous that are watching the Jissou Channel. Tomorrow morning, I’ll tap into the camera feed and see what’s going down, but any outside contact will fuck up the entire endeavor. Therefore, “Don’t open this fucking door.”

“In here.” The jissous file into my laboratory, and I shut and lock the door. I take stock of the jissous, all are present. Good. I set them up on the counter.

“Alright, take off your clothes. I’m going to wash them and give you a bath.”

They comply with the expected gusto. While they take their clothes off, I set my iPod up, set it in the speakers I have in here, and play some music. It’s more for my inspiration than their fear right now, so I start with a parody of Usher. It’s got some parallels with the situation at hand. I suppose they’re both green, explode when you kick them, and aren’t quite huggable.

Finally, they’re done stripping. Thankfully, the mother isn’t the miniature landwhale that feral adults tend to be, but instead she’s just round and smooth, sort of like an oval overall. The kojissous and thumbs aren’t special either. The maggots retain their clothes, because jissou paws aren’t the best apparatus to use to remove maggot socks. So, I take a plastic container out, strip the maggots, and plop them in there.


“Rehi? Where clothes rehi?”

“Don’t like naked repya!”

“Want clothes back, repyeeeeen!”

Oh, shut the fuck up. I set them in the sink, strategically below the faucet. I then take a few metal pieces, like you’d see in an erector set, and fashion a crude stand. I use some fishing line to tie them to it through the holes in the metal, saying some bullshit about how I have some new shower thing and they need to be very still for it to work. They submit willingly, as they do when anything is called “luxurious.” Retards.

Once they’re tied up, I turn up the music and switch it to this shit right here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94bGzWyHbu0&ob=av2e

Avenged Sevenfold, Nightmare. Fuck yeah.

I grab a lighter while the opening piano notes play. It’s one of the long ones, used to light grills and shit like that. I then wait for the opening bit to end. Suddenly, the music slams into a loud-ass guitar solo. My face slowly shifts from passive to my insane grin. As soon as the loud scream of “NIGHTMAAAARE!” sounds, I flick the lighter and hold it on the pile of clothes, which ignite like a firecracker.

“NOO MY BEAUTIFUL DRESS DESHA!”

“MY CLOTHES, TEEEEEEN!”

“NOOOOO TECHII!”

“Too loud, refu.”

Fuck you say? Have a blast of cold water, you don’t get to diss A7X. Well, maybe you were telling your sisters/mother to shut the fuck up. Either way, I don’t give a fuck. Faucet is open. Maggots are drowning.

“Colglurb, regrarb”

“Helglbp, regelelb”

“Wharrgarbl”

Did it seriously just say Wharrgarbl? Wow. Anywho, I drain the now green-tinted water off, and turn the faucet off. The maggots are waterlogged, but otherwise unharmed. I scoop them out and set them on the counter.

“Mr. Man is an abuser, techi! Run, Maggot-chan, techa!” The smart kojissou tries to warn her younger sisters, but I wiggle my finger and they crawl towards me. I nudge two of the maggots close together. Both promptly roll belly-up, away from each other, and request punipuni. I nudge them back together, and rub their bellies simultaneously. With my stapler.

For a moment, they fail to register the pain. But after about a second, they get it.

“Belly hurts repya!”

“Help, sisters, reeeeen!”

The other three maggots stare for a moment, and as I move the stapler towards them they finally recognize that I am not a nice, belly-rubbing Mr. Man.

“You should have known, the price of evil
And it hurts to know that you belong here, yeah…”

They crawl away from me, leaving green trails in their wake. I get my lighter and ignite one of them.

“Oooh, It’s your fucking nightmare! Hahaha!”

The fire follows the trail in a Hollywood fashion, like those car chases you see where the bag guy’s leaking fuel and the badass good guy drops his cigarette into the gas stream. Of course, this is in slow motion, but the effects are similarly comical. Despite being nigh-explosive in high quantities, thin maggot-trails of shit are not very flammable. They’re just burnable enough to act as fuses, or for the purpose I’m using it for. As the fire creeps closer, the maggot speeds up. That just thins the trail, and the fire spreads over it faster.

“Hot, repya! Hot! Hot hot hot HOT HOT REPYAAAAAAAAA!” Finally, it ignites. It degenerates into a modified ‘refu,’ sort of “REPLEARAARA” on account of its face melting. The other maggots cease fleeing to stare at the candleification of their sister. Bits of its flesh, still burning, melt off and sizzle on the granite. It continues to gargle for a few moments, and then dies, still ablaze. While the jissous are transfixed by this, I get a needle and thread it with surgical thread, and put a knot at the end of the string. Time for one of my favorite tricks!

I grab a maggot, and rub its belly. It sighs, forgetting about its immolated sister. While it’s in Happy Belly Rub Land, I slip the needle through its skull. I slide it down the string.

“No! Rub belly more repi! Huh? Head feels weird, refu…”

“What are you doing to my babies, desha?!”

“Shut your fucking face right the fuck now.”

“Put my babies down desh-” I give her the most hostile glare I can muster. She shuts up, which is a good thing, because I probably would have snapped her arm off and shoved it down her throat if she didn’t. I would do that anyway, but I have a different plan for her arm.

I take the stapled maggots and run the thread through their heads as well, and slide them on down the line, and add the last maggot. Then, I cut the thread, tie it off, and run string through the tails of the maggots. Not too low, about ¾ of the way down their bodies. I cut and tie that off, and get a 50 gram weight. I hang that off the bottom loop.

“Watch.” The mother jissou, as well as the kojissous, close their eyes. “Open your fucking eyes before I rip them the fuck out!” My shout scares them into obedience, and they watch as the pressure on the heads and tails of the maggots begins to show. Blood begins to leak from the points where the thread goes through their bodies. Thankfully, little excrement follows, because I angled the needle to pass through their tail slits.

“Heavy, repi.”

“Punipuni refu.”

“Head hurts rep-” That last one’s head ripped the fuck in half, from where the string went through. It dies instantly, and its body rotates and hangs from the bottom thread by its tail, further increasing the weight on the others. Another has its entire tail removed, and it took most of its lungs with it. It sits, wide-eyed and silently screaming (its lungs fell out) until the eyes slowly lost their color, fading slowly to gray. The third and fourth are the stapled maggots. One suffers the same fate as the first, and starts to fall backwards. But it is caught by the staple, and drives it farther into its companion. Eventually, it pulls the staple – and a sizeable chunk of the last maggot’s body – with it. When its weight jerks on the string, the last maggot rips cleanly in half. Not by the lines where the string went through, like the last three, but straight across the midline. The bottom string, with tails and half-heads of maggots in tow, falls to the granite. As with the other maggot, the last maggot’s lungs remained with the bottom half, so it silently mouths its despair and pain to its sisters and mother, and eventually, the eyes slowly fade to gray as it dies a painful death.

“Alright, you little whore, you’re next.” I cut the strings holding her arms up. Her face is blue with fear, but her fangs are showing?

Oh. She wants to throw shit at me. Why didn’t I see that coming? Before she can toss the globule of disgust that she’s got on her paw, I bitch-slap her. Hard. So hard, in fact, that she flies across into the sink. Taking the opportunity, I turn on the water. She’s too surprised to yell or gurgle threats, and settles for emitting a stream of shit into the drain. I cut the water. She continues to shit. I turn the water on. She continues to shit. I cut the water. She continues to shit. You see where I’m going with this.

*POOOOOT*

Finally. Jesus, fuck. I pick her up, now that the risk of getting shit on my hands is gone. I grab her right ponytail and yank. Predictably, it comes off, and I set it on the counter. I do the same with the other. Then, I grab hold of the forelock.

“No, Mr. Man, please, no, desuuuu…”

I tug. It doesn’t come off? The fuck? She’s wiggling her legs like a maggot, and screaming “OROROROROON~”. I pull on it, and it finally comes off.

“Such a cruel world, ororo- NOOOOOOO!”

That last yell was because I lit the pile of hair on fire. It flashes for a moment, and burns out. I grab my stapler and hold it in my off hand, behind my back. I pick her back up in my dominant hand, and bring her up to my face.

“Shut the fuck up and stop crying, you selfish bitch! You’re crying over your damn hair, and your daughters were just torn apart and burned in front of you!”

I lower her down and hold her in front of a maggot, and force her nose-to-nose with the dead gray eyes. I bring her back up and yell – literally yell – into her face:

“Give me one good fucking reason why you shouldn’t join them!”

She raises her right paw to her face and gives a watery smile. “Because I am little and don’t eat much, desu?”

“Wrong fucking answer.”

I staple her paw. To her face.

“OWOWOWOWOWOOOOOOWN~” The owowow bit because she can’t make an ‘r’ sound with her cheek being stretched by the stapled paw. I throw her into the sink, and she lands on her ass. She’s found some new reserves of shit, it seems, as the metal turns green around her. I take the stapler, point it at her, and squeeze it. A staple flies out of it and hits her in the stomach. The legendary jissou fragility takes over, and the staple embeds itself in her flesh. I ignore her cries of pain and leave the room.

I head to the kitchen and grab a nice bottle of Tabasco sauce. I head back to the lab and shut the door. I grab the mother and force her green eye open. She cries out, knowing what’s coming. She cries out louder when the hot sauce hits her eye and it begins to color red. I drop her in the sink and cut the thumbs and one kojissou free, and toss them in there as well. They take a moment to recover, and in that moment I grab a nice long metal mini-I-bar, like the one I used to secure the jissous. When I return to the sink, the mother has had 3 maggots and a thumb, with a fourth maggot on the way. The thumbs are licking the slime off the newborns, and the kojissou is supporting her mama. I look to the smart kojissou, who I deliberately left tied up

“You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?” I mime stabbing downwards. The jissous in the sink are too preoccupied to notice. The kojissou turns blue and shakes her head.

“No, Mr. Man, please don’t do this, techiiiien!”

I ignore her and turn back to the sink, ignoring her, and wait for the birthing to end. Eventually it does, with an unknown number of babies born. I say unknown because the instant it’s done I begin whacking with my metal stick.

“WOOOOOOOW OWOWOWOWOWOOOWN!”

“NO MY SISTER RECHA-”

“You won’t hurt Maggot-Chan repy- MY LEG REP-”

“Why Mr. Man whyyyyyy-”

After about 10 swings, all jissous in the sink aside from the mother are paste. I plug the drain and turn the water on. Turns out, when your arm is attached to your jaw, you can’t swim. She begins to flail about. I grab my drill, and get a special metal star attachment. I cut the water, and from underneath the water level the mother jissou looks up at me with two red, hope-filled eyes. That hope – and the eyes themselves – are mulched when I put the blades of the impromptu blender on her face and pull the trigger. The water begins to swirl, and rapidly turns even redder than it was as the mother’s blood is added to the soup. After about a minute, I’m satisfied that it’s all liquefied, and pull the plug out. The water drains, leaving behind only the two staples that were once lodged in the mother and were too big to fit down the drain.

I turn back to the last kojissou. She’s crying and holding her face as best she can with her paws bound over her head. I cut the strings and hold her over my shoulder. I walk into another room of my house and whisper:

“Don’t worry, little one, you’re going to be my pet.”

I hold her gently out in front of my face. Her eyes shine with tears and hope.

“Really, techi?”

“Absolutely.”

Her face lights up for a brief moment.

“Not.”

I let go. She falls into the toilet, and I flush it. She swirls around, bubbles escaping her mouth. She almost fits down the drain, but she’s just barely too wide. She gets stuck, and beats her stumps against the porcelain.

“Let me go, shit toilet! I want-”

“Shit toilet?” Huh. Anyways, she continues to beat her paws against the porcelain as the water refills. Slowly she drowns, her swings getting slower and weaker. Eventually, I shove her through the water trap by crushing her arm with the stick of the plunger. Now, she fits (on account of the fact that she’s in two pieces) and gets flushed down the toilet.

I check my watch. 5:30.

FUCK!

End Episode 6

>>651
good shit, dying to know what happens next.

Good shit man, per usual.

Oh forgot to add, when I got to the jewtube link I opened it in a new tab, and continued reaing, stopping on occasion to let it catch up, fucking made the story even better.

Currently working on a new story about Al and Yukiko, so keep an eye out for that, readers.

>>655

I love you now, sir anon.

Maybe you should namefag or something, so we can see who you are, instead of being "that anon with the Al and Yukiko story"?

>>654

I would have incorporated the lyrics better, the second verse is fucking perfect. But the music ran out and it switched to another track, and I forgot.

"Can't wake up and sweat
'Cause it ain't over yet
Still dancing with your demons
Victim of your own creation..."

Either way, good job Francisperson.

>>656
Well, you can go ahead and call me Al--the Al character is named and modelled after me.

>>658
the Al character is named and modelled after me. You're a Jissouseki ?

>>659
Uh, no, Al's the human. Y'know, the incredibly profane "evil Mr. Man"?

Continued from
>>621

Ten Thousand Stumps

Show 5 : Send Me a Sign

Lynn Beckett

We were at the dining table, enjoying a hassle-free evening, provided that having to eat a fried jissou mother isn't a hassle, when Genestar's phone suddenly rang.
After seeing who the caller was, he excused himself in another room. It could have been anybody, at first, but the expression he had when he came back strongly suggested his caller was the General.

“Sylvia, Mrs.Beckett, news are not good.”

Apparently, France very nearly lost a town named Gap to the dolls. It was as he told us concerning Annecy : Seemingly random arrivals of wild jissous quietly surround the town, and then, all hell breaks loose as every one of those pour into the city, gaining a nigh inexpungeable foothold.
Only quick reaction by the army, fully prepared, prevented citizens to be driven out of their homes. But the events were beginning to transpire to the general public, and their government was expecting a nation-wide panic soon.
Of course, I asked...


“But, wouldn't that be exactly what the Supreme Abuser program was for ?”
“Well not really. SupAb's mission was to raise concern about the jissous yes, but in regard to a crafted danger, a freak accident. People would have set out against the jissous, but not really fearing that they will absolutely be next.”
“But does it change anything, desu ?”
“Not in regards of our crafted invasion, no. I mean, with a mass invasion, an aware human population can't do much more than an unaware one. However, panic is never good...But there's worse. The Giant Tramplers know France is onto them. No less than five European towns, and two in the USA, have been attacked in only one night. In no case was the army prepared. As we speak, civilians are being evacuated. Witness accounts of Jissouseki breaking into apartments by groups of several families abound. Human casualties are few, but property damage is in the billions.”
“Holy f...but the army can do something now, can it, desu ?”
“No, it's too late. The danger is not having a lot of jissous in the street. It's having a lot of jissous in the houses. By releasing mind-boggling amounts of the retards into a town, the bad guys are basically cranking the house hunting to the max. With such a critical overload, jissous skip all the coaxing bullshit and go straight into fucking things up and making themselves at home. Just like they would with a house that adopted feral jissous for several weeks...It gets turned into a battlefield. And at that stage, it's very difficult to purge a house. When overridden houses number in the hundreds, this is an herculean task.”
“Damn, so those towns are now nothing but nesting grounds, desu.”
“Exactly. Even if half the houses are clean, the balance of power is now tilting to the Jissouseki's side. And the more nesting grounds there are, the more humanity is fucked. We need to bring out our A-game and find something useful NOW, because our enemies are through fucking around.”

I remained quiet through his speech, mainly because I was unsure how to react. Certainly, the analysis was sensible, but the scope of the consequences was simply too great to even consider. Still, it gave both Sylvia and me pause. From where we were standing, it was clear that doing our very best couldn't hurt, and was in fact showing a huge potential reward.
Stress on potential.

“I have something, desu !”
“Okay, what ?” Asked Genestar, nervous.
“You know, the memory I have about coming here, and talking to people, desu ? Well, I remember the living room, desu. I even have the vague impression of the secret passage opening, desu. But the actual place where I met those guys has nothing to do with the style here and...I explored the entire underground, and I still didn't see it, desu.”
“You're sure it wasn't in an entirely different place ?”
“I've never even been to enough places for that to be true, desu ! I have clear memories of the lab, the places after my escape, and Mistress's house, but I only have this place as a vague memory, desu. No, the room I remember is here, somewhere. We just didn't find it yet, desu.”
“Well, do you remember anything that could help us find it ?”
“If I did I would have found it already, desu !”
“The fact alone that we suspect that something's hidden is enough.”

Both turn to me.

“It does, desu ?”
“Yes. I gained access to an architectural map of the place this morning while tinkering with the computer. I vaguely looked at it, and thought there was something wrong somewhere."
"You studied architecture ?" Inquires Genestar.
"No but my field of expertise is materials science, which does have huge applications in architecture. Anyway, one corridor in the underground doesn't have rooms on its side, yet the walls have the same width as corridors that do. As a materials scientist, I'm thinking a wall you don't absolutely have to pierce with doorways should be thicker, to be able to handle more stress. But being no architect, I had no concrete evidence that it would, in fact, be necessary. So I thought nothing of it. But if there is a hidden room somewhere, that place is a likely candidate."
"Awesome ! I'll check it out right away, desu. Where is it, desu ?"
"Two flights of stairs from the first sub-level, if I recall correctly."
"I'll keep you posted, desu !"

She bolts off to the secret entrance behind the fireplace, leaving her jissou in her plate. She's missing all four limbs and a good part of the abdomen. The entrails, though cleaned of shit from Sylvia's patented faucet method, are still in place and partially bitten off. Genestar and me took the time to remove them, clean or not. The skin bears marks of burning, not unlike a pork-chop, but nowhere near as appetizing. She just looks like a third-degree burn victim, not a piece of well-done meat. The gray eyes surrounded by marks of pained squinting do not embellish this grisly image in the least.
My kingdom for real food...

"Found something else of note along with that map ?" Asks the Frenchman after a bite.
"I'm not sure. A lot seems to focus on the dolls and I'm not familiar with them."
"How do you crack the files' protection anyway ?"
"Easily. They're not really that protected at all. This place's previous occupants just used the CACLS command before leaving."
"And what would that be ?"
"Sloppy. Also, Window's equivalent to chmod. Gives or revoke reading, writing and editing rights, but it's not automatically protected in itself. So the files are only inaccessible until somebody chooses to get the access back."
"Ah okay, so if I knew anything about computers..."
"...It would have been like removing adhesive tape from a drawer."
"Terrific. So everything's open now ?"
"Unless they did really protect some files, yes. I used the command on the entire C:\ drive. Only for reading, so there's no danger of messing with system files."
"Well, thanks anyway. God I feel stupid."
"To each his own knowledge."

He leaves with a "I guess", taking his plate with him. That's when I hear a very faint voice, to my left.
Oh, there's an earpiece on a table. Sylvia's trying to reach us.

"You were quick." I say after taking and equipping it.
"And you were slow, desu ! Anyway, I'm in the doorless corridor you mentioned, desu. What do I do now ?"
"Well, you can begin by checking if any part of the wall sounds hollow. A bit too simple, but you have to begin somewhere."
"Sure thing, desu !"

Well...Now that I'm alone at the table, the last remnants of appetite I had vanished. I take my plate, and go to the kitchen. I never was a big eater anyway.
On my way to the trash, I can see Genestar, in front of the computer, making a fist-pump.

“Did you find what you wanted ?”
“Hell yeah I did !” He replies excitedly. “While I was looking for the files about Sylvia in the R&D directory, I found the original Falconer program !”
“...Falconer ? That was in the files upstairs.”
“Yes. The very first endeavor to gain control over the jissou crystals. It's what eventually triggered...well, everything ! The massive boom in pet jissou market, the mess in Annecy, and all this unfortunate situation with your ex-husband and Sylvia...All of them are related to Falconer. Anyway, the programming method is very well known to be extremely secretive, but...here it is. Right at the source.”
"That does sound interesting...Well, if you're into jissous, that is."
"Interesting ? It's the holy grail ! Even if you discount the possibilities this has for fixing this whole jissou apocalypse thing, abusers and pet owners alike have been frustrated at the fact that only one set of constraints is available worldwide for years !"
"Only one ?"
"Well, there are other versions, but they're well known to be basically the same thing : Don't attack humans, don't ruin their stuff, don't shit everywhere, hate feral jissous. No radically or even noticeably different version has ever hit the market, and believe me, that's by no lack of reverse engineering attempts."
"What about the amnesia you mentioned ?"
"Oh, that ? Well I think the amnesia programming is basically just brute-forcing data that happens to mess with the ability to access memories. It's not really a legitimate breakthrough."
"So they chose to never sell the source code despite the ludicrously high demand, and yet they left it unprotected on that computer ?"
"Don't ask me..."
"I won't."

Let him get excited about the goblins. This case is becoming a bit clearer. As far as I can gather right now, we've got a company trying to play God while showing dangerous signs of incompetence. They were onto something, sure, but they had a complete meltdown while trying to actually channel their discoveries into something useful. The rest is uncontrolled contingency.
That would, of course, mean Genestar can't hope to stop the city invasions in this place, for the butterfly has flapped its wings a long time ago.

"I found it, desu !" bellows Sylvia in my ear.
"A hollow-sounding part ?"
"No, the damn door itself ! Come on, quickly, desu !"

I call Genestar, and we quickly go to the underground. Sylvia is in the corridor I mentioned, making air-guitar gestures. There was, strangely, no door to be found around her.

"This is so frigging cool, desuuuuu !"
"How did you find it ?"
"I knocked on the wall like you said, and there weren't any parts that sounded obviously different than the rest, desu. But then I remembered something , desu ! Just a flash, but yeah, it was this woman saying..."

She dramatically rose her hands up in the air.

"Gamma Ray Aegis Cerberus"

Immediately, I felt a slight vibration in my feet as a mechanical sound filled the silent alley. The wall opened, a huge slab of smooth concrete pulled back by hydraulic pistons.

"Well I'm certainly glad the amnesia programming was reversible" observed the Frenchman.
"Makes sense, if you want to keep the existence of the door itself hidden, your best choice of input is voice control."

He looks at me with a confused expression.

"You're sure you're not actively trying to channel the show ?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you don't."
"HEY ! The cool stuff's over here, desu !"
"The young lady's right." I reply, walking to the aperture.

Thierry Genestar.

Sure she is.
Anyway, what lies beyond the secret passage, which would probably be visible upon close inspection of the wall, is unlike the rest of the underground. And that's an understatement. It's full of spartan rooms and ad hoc labs, and here is a classy living area.
I do mean classy. Like leather sofas, a persian mat and a few paintings and statuettes on the antique furniture. Even without context, finding this room in this place would have me dialing a superhero hotline.

"Holy shit is that cliché, desu."
"Cliché yes, but not necessarily that surprising..." says Sidle.
"Come on, it's something build for the cold war, they would never have included that !"
"Imagine you're a paranoid government that is convinced the world is going to end because of the URSS. You authorize bunkers, sure, but once the military has what it needs, you're going to make sure to throw in some luxurious amenities where you can live the rest of your life as the overly self-important persons you and your fellow "elites that must survive humanity" are."
"I...guess that makes sense, desu. Does it ?"
"Oh" I reply, shrugging. "That already wouldn't surprise me of certain french politicians, and we never had McCarthyism so..."
"Okay, desu...Anyway, this is where I met the owners of this place, I'm sure of it, desu.."
"That's a start" observes Beckett. "Let's look around."

No objection here.
No wonder Sylvia didn't confuse the villa and here even in fuzzy memories. The styles are completely different. One is modern, full of light and openings, a designer's home, and one is more classical, made after a certain idea of European class.
One thing that bothers me is how clean it is. I know rooms like this, my family has several bourgeois, and furniture like this, it makes a certain smell. A smell that is corrupted if you don't clean adamantly. This place doesn't smell like it's been abandoned for long.
Which, considering the state we found the villa in, is, not mandatorily I'll admit, disturbing. Evidence of recent activity, which we need if we're to have a reason to gasp dramatically, shouldn't have been hard to find. But the room is clean of any, save from a fair amount of dust.

“Clearly it goes beyond that room alone.” says Beckett, pointing at the two doors.
“Well, if we're going with megalomaniac politicians, a single room isn't logical.”
“I'm smelling jissous, desu.”

I turn towards Sylvia, sniffing.

"You're sure ? I don't smell anything. Well, apart from the smell our clothes picked up in the villa."
"Damn right I'm sure, desu. It's faint but it definitely smells like an indoors settlement, desu. And it's way too fresh to be a leftover scent, desu."
"Well, I do suppose you're well armed to identify their smell with precision."
"Not that I'm proud of it, desu."

She walks around for a while, before pointing at a door.

“It's from behind that, desu.”

Strangely, all of us seemed in awe before this unassuming door. And for what ? The presence of Jissouseki on the other side ? That's like being apprehensive of seeing a pigeon. But the situation was, in fact, thoroughly surreal. If jissous there were, this room would have been ruined a long time ago. And a simple door which didn't even feature a freaking lock would never have been able to keep them at bay.
Something was terribly wrong.
With a prudence uncharacteristic of her, Sylvia turns the handle, and opens the door.
Small gasps of surprise tell us the tale.

“We need them alive.”
“I guess so, desu.”

I realize that I have my hand on my shirt's breast pocket, where my phone lies. Professional habit of course, it's not uncommon to have to request backup when we enter an infested building.
While the first room of the secret area was a living room, or perhaps more of a lounge, this one definitely looks like a personal room. Weird, then, to see a door on the other side.
Damage assessment. Strong jissouseki odor, items out of place without going to mess level, the uncontrollable chirping of panicked maggots accompanied with barely hidden calls to silence. But conspicuous absence of everyone's favorite : the green goo splattered everywhere. The odor indicates it's here, but most likely hidden. Pet jissous.
Sylvia points to a cupboard, all the while hand-signaling us to hold our position. I taught her the basics, just in case. She slowly goes to the piece of furniture, and opens it.

"De !"
"Repya !"
"Don't hurt us, weird jissou-chan, techi !"
"Calm down, desu. I'm Sylvia, I'm just exploring this place, desu."
"You're...not here to hurt us, desu ?" Cautiously replied the mother.
"No, now come out so I can ask you a few questions."

They obliged, and soon we saw a rather average group of jissous, with a mother, her three kojissous and a few maggots. Nothing special to say about their appearance either.

"Who is your master, desu ?"
"Master, desu."
"Yes, desu. Who's he, desu ?"
"I told you, master, desu."
"Ah okay I got it, desu...Well guys," she said, turning her head toward us "you have other questions, desu ?"
"Well, to be hon..."
"Mr.Men techi !"

The fuck ?

As soon as I uttered a word, the whole family turned to me like a group of possessed children in a goddamn horror flick. They wobbled in my direction with unsettling intensity. Lynn was obviously freaked out and took a step backwards. It didn't take an expert to know those were about to go full retard at our feet.
I took out my flashball gun.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

The trio of daughters was pulverized on the spot. The mama broke her stride, looked back, shat herself, and began showing her teeth at me.

“Describe your master or die right now.” I say as emotionlessly as I can.
“SHIT MR.MA-”

*BANG*

At this moment, I knew perfectly well I looked badass as fuck. Still, I wasn't trying to woo anyone.

“Okay ladies, we're in trouble. There is something in this part of the compound that is intelligent but not human.”
“Alright, I'm in.” Said the CSI, crossing her arms. “What makes you say that ?”
“Let's begin with the easy part. This was the first time those jissous ever saw a human being. A little long to explain, but basically, when Sylvia talked to them they were in a state they're never in when in human proximity, and their reaction to us guarantee they aren't pet jissous.”
“And for the intelligent being ?”
“Well, they did refer to as a “master” and we know for a fact he isn't human. Or talking through an electronic device, maaaaaaaaybe. But improbable.”
“Well, an older Jissouseki comes to mind.”
“Yes, but they would call her Jissou-sama, mistress at best.A dick jissou being out of the question.”
“I see your point.”

I look at Sylvia, who seems troubled.

“You're the only one here that won't make the jissous in here crazy. You'll have to continue alone. Find that Master and bring him alive. He may hold the key to stopping this invasion.”
"Huh ? Huh, okay. Fine by me, desu."

And by just leaving through the other door, she baffles me one more time. I pretty much said she wasn't human here, she had every right to freak out.
Go figure.
Lynn suddenly begins to talk by herself. I ,thankfully, quickly realize she's talking to Sylvia via the earpiece.

"You might want to take this" she then says, "you're the expert on those monstrosities."

Sylvia

Jeaaaaaaloooousyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
Aren't the French supposed to suck at war ? He put like three headshots on three small moving targets under two seconds. You can't even explain this by his job. Exterminators use poison, not guns. That can't possibly be useful to him. What a fucking poseur.

Anyway.
This place is nothing like the rest of the underground. It's a comfy apartment. Inside a bunker. There's something really creepy about this, in an exciting way, like being in the Twilight Zone. And while I'm not sure of the exact reason why the frenchie freaked out after seeing the jissous here, I do feel like something is deeply wrong about them. They're far too orderly. It's a good thing, objectively, but it's unnatural and freaky. Like if you found yourself in a city where there is zero crime and not even any arguments in the street. You wouldn't think "Wow, it's a paradise on earth !". You would think "I've got to get out of here before my brain turns into an octopus too."
You can bitch about people being assholes, but if everyone was nice, it just might actually be worse.

"Hungry, techi."

Good, some familiar ground.
The closest room from here is a bathroom. A large one, with a big, round bathtub. The toilet catches my eye : it's surrounded by random things. Judging from the small jissou child idly sitting on the toilet bowl, it's a crude stairwell.

"Pooping is fun techi, if you keep it clean techi"
"Hello there, desu" I say, refraining a hilarious push.
"Hello weird jissou-chan techi. I am pooping, do not take the toilet techi !"
"I...just want to ask you something, desu. Who taught you to shit here, desu ?"
"Mama, techi."
"Hey frenchie" I tell through the speaker. "You should know something about interrogating jissous, desu."
"Should I tell you about that derelict factory thing again ?"
"Yeah right, like it wasn't way overblown, desu."

The kojissou just sits here, her ass crack over the hole, without any sign of physical exertion. That's just not normal. Even Stella and her children made sure to do their business quickly.

"What are you waiting for, desu ? Shit, desu !"
"Shut up, weird jissou-chan, techi."

You know what ? I'm not even going to try.
I blow on her, and she falls head over fleshy tubes before she can even react.

"Techglurb ! I fell, techi, save me, techi !"
"Why, desu ? What's so great about your life that I should save it from ending right now, desu ?"
"Be...Because I am good jissou, techi !"

She sinks after emptying her lungs from speaking. She breathes in a bit of water and coughs. She tries to climb the ceramic, and slips.
The awesome, cruel usual.

"Nope, you're a sentient piece of plastic just sitting on your ass doing nothing, desu. Your life doesn't matter, desu."
"SHUT UP, SHIT JISSOU-CHAN, TECHA !"
"Okay, one last question. Show me if you're as great as you think you are, desu. How..."
"Master will...argblchi...kill you, techa !"
"Forget the question. Enjoy your trip, desuuuu !"

I flush the toilet. "TEGYAAAA*blub*" An arm gets ripped off by the current that, from her perspective, most be like the inside of a laundromat. The rest of her last moments, I can only guess. I mean, we all saw plans of a toilet but that's about it. It must be something like that :

"What's happening, techi ? Can not breathe, techa ! TEG ! Head hit something, hurts, techieeen ! I can not see, I want to get out of there, techieen...Hurts ! Want to breathe, tegyaaa !"

At any rate, I seriously doubt she can hold her breath until finding air again, and even if she does, she'll be half dead.
...There must be others around.
Hey, in fact, there's one right there ! A mama asleep in the tub. No visible shit in her panties, but a dirty mouth, proof of her cannibalistic behavior. Good, she should be less stupid and thus more informative.
That said, she did fell asleep in the tub. Given its depth, and her size and corpulence, respectively not yet a fully-grown adult and already a fully-grown fatass mama, she won't be able to get out herself. She climbed thanks to an old hairdryer box, but has nothing to help her for the return trip.
I have an idea.

"Oh my god oh my god wake up desu !!!"
"Deee ?!" Drowsily exclaims the mama.
"There was a cute little kojissou on the toilet, the Master killed her, desu !"
"...Deee ? Jissou-chan ? That is not possible, desu !"
"It is, desu ! I saw him come in the bathroom, push the poor little thing and flush her out, desu !"
"No ! Why, deshaa ?!"
"I don't know, desu."
"Jissou-chan did not deserve this, desuuuuun...But I cannot avenge her, ororooon..."

She was completely heartbroken, but also strangely unwilling to go and kill shit master. Susceptible as they are, she shouldn't be...I mean, I was counting on the fact that she couldn't get out to tell me spontaneously where to find the supposed killer.
Bah, that'll do I guess.

"Just tell me where he is, desu !"
"In room near, desuuuun...."

That simple ? Alright.
I go out of the bathroom, and look to the opposite side to where I came from.
Now how should I handle it ? I mean, the "master" will pose a bigger challenge than those he commands. It could be a robot, or...another experiment.
Another like me.
Oh shit, that sounds like a very real possibility. Another PTLD. Maybe a failed experiment, even, alive but barely sentient. Or, on the contrary, my exact sister.

"Jissou-chan was my favorite, desuuuun, I..."
"Daaah what the fuck desu ?!!"

The fat mama is here, tugging at my sock.
How in the name of flying ass did she get over there ?!
Angered, I grab her by the braids and pull her to my face.

"You had absolutely no business getting out of that tub, you cunt, desu."
"Wha...what are you talking about, desha ? It was easy, let me go, desha !"
"You smug little blister."

I turn to the wall and hold her back against it. She dangles around, trying to reach her braids with her stumps.
I ready my fist, and, literally, punch her face in.

"DEG-"

All of her facial structure is relocated to the back of her skull, her eyes reduced to pulp, and her brains are squeezed to the rest of her head, causing intense and utterly unnatural swelling.
I let her fall, and even if her grown legs don't break, she's suitably fucked as she is. Unable to talk, she instead emits sort of a labored whistle through her orifices.

I turn back to the remaining door.

"Okay, desu. No more stalling."

When I turn the handle, I expect to be greeted by the usual environmental sounds of a place full of jissous. But it's remarkably quiet, as only soft sounds of movement get through the opening. Maybe they're all asleep, I think.
Well, no they aren't. They're perfectly awake. Kind of hanging out, doing jissou stuff, without the irritating soundtrack that normally goes with it. And there are twenty or so of them. With, strangely, no maggot in sight. No Master in sight either.
Of course.

"Okay you shitbags, desu. Give me the Master and no one dies, desu."

Instantly, all the jissous in the room turn blue from panic, and put their stumps in front of their A-mouths.

"Shhhhhhhhh techi !"

I take my guns out. I can't aim for shit right now, but I have to make a statement.

“You motherfuckers really are getting cocky, desu.”

In a few, incredibly loud seconds, I blindly empty both my magazines on the herd. Enough with the weirdness, enough with the mysteries. I want my jissous fragile, numerous, reliably stupid, and shitting their pants from fear.
From this distance, thank God, I achieved what I wanted, and have their undivided attention.

“He's not worth your life, desu. Where is the Master, NOW, desu.”

The adults are hugging their dead offspring or their own wounds. The children are covering up their ears, teeth chattering. But none of them are answering.
Fine by me.
When I take one mama, she's still clutching her left leg, she whimpers, but keeps clenching her teeth. Her restraint, like all the others, is out of this world. The Master must be a serious hard-ass to keep them in line even in the face of death. Hey, that could be fun after all.

I grab one of the terrified little jissous, and put her right in the field of vision of the mama that seemed to react the most. The two simplistic humanoids stare at each other with teary eyes, but remain quiet. I thus put the little girl's forelock between my thumb and my index finger. The reaction is quick. The child straightens up and repeatedly hits my fingers. She does whimper, but even that is quickly met with the mother's "ssshhhhh desuuuuu". Okay, there goes the lock. Silently, the now bald-forheaded child lets her arms down, and puts a "Oh, come on" look on her face.
It's obvious those jissous are like any other. They have the same reactions, the same pain when they're abused. It's just that abused Jissouseki are prone to complain, and those don't have the right to do so.
Heh, it really puts the meaning back in "abused". I'm abusing a situation they can't get out of. I'm being the opposite of fair. They're upholding some kind of law, and they get hell for it. They're thoroughly screwed.
I sloooowly get to the left braid. The helpless kojissou realizes soon enough what's about to happen and puts her paws in an unmistakeable prayer gesture, shaking her head. But I pull, and the hair gets torn out.

"Nooo my beautiful hai-TEG"

Holy hell, what ?
The mama had a panic attack and straight up punched the child. With all her might. The shock crushed the poor little bastard against my palm, prompting a vomit full of chunks of vital organs.
My bit of fun is well into creepy territory now. Seriously, that's not hard ass at this point, that's dictatorship.
And it's clear the oppressed jissous won't help me.

Thierry Genestar

And again, a few moments after this interrupted plight from a kojissou, Sylvia goes to town.
Multiple "Hyaaaah !"s followed by the noise of frail jissou bones breaking. It's like Link in a pottery shop. Getting to the complete massacre option every time might seem worrying, but a bunch of mute jissous ? Yeah, fair enough.

"Well, I guess the Master isn't around anymore."
"Yeah, nothing but Jissouseki here, desu."
"We'll get back to the villa, have fun."
"Okay, desu. Karateeeeeee chop !"

Ah, shit, so much for being the miracle the world n...

"W...W...W...W...Whaaaat desu ?" I hear Sylvia say with an utterly confused and voice.
"What's up ?"
"I...I...No f...What, desu ?"
"Hey, you feel alright ?" I turn to Lynn, who's looking at me, curious. "I don't know, she's having a meltdown." Back to Sylvia. "Take your time. Breathe."
"No you d-d-d-don't understand, desu !"

Obviously, the jissous down there decided to take the chance and run for it. One mama appears where we are waiting, running to the exit.

"Hey, you let one escape."
"YEAH, HER ! CATCH HER NOW DESU !"

I look at the escaping Jissou, who heard the shout through the earpiece. She smiles at me. No, leers at me. And her mismatched eyes briefly, but clearly, flash yellow.
Bright yellow.
What. The. Fuck ?

In a blink of an eye, she's gone.

"Shit ! Beckett, with me ! We have to catch her !"

Without checking if she follows me, I dart to the main part of the underground bunker where the jissou with yellow eyes went. Nothing in the connecting corridor, she's already beginning to lose us. That can't be real !

"You see her ?!" Shouts Beckett from the other end of the corridor as I get to a right turn.
"No ! Nothing, she just freaking vanished !"
"You've got to be kidding me..."

Thirty minutes or so later, all three of us are standing in the living room. We're all pretty shaken, but Sylvia is livid.

"So...what happened ?" Asks Lynn to her. "How did you find that...thing ?"
"I just did a karate chop to a mama. A completely normal mama, dammit, desu."
"And ?"
"She blocked it, desu !"
"She...what ?"
"You mean she dodged it, right ?" I intervene. "They just don't have the physical ability to..."
"No ! Fucking blocked it, desu ! She raised her stump, and bam, my chop was stopped like it hit a human arm, desu !"

I take my head into my hands.

"Okay, I've got nothing. Never saw anything of the sort. Stargate excepted."
"I think we can agree this is likely to be directly linked to those we're after, however, right ?"
"Yes Mrs.Beckett, we certainly can."
"We have to find it, desu !"
"We searched the entire underground twice" matter-of-factly says the CSI. "There's only one place she could have run off to."
"I don't care, as long as I can do as much unstopped karate chops as I can, desu !"

Knowing full well what Lynn is referring to, I walk to the windows, to behold once again what we ignored for all too long since we got here.
The main event.

"For once, I've got good news for you."

As said on your blog, epic win right here.