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Escape by sammig82 Edited by DocVS My thanks to you readers for the encouraging and kind words seeing that this is my first attempt at writing a story. English was never my primary language and I needed guidance from you readers to help improve the story. I can't say how grateful I am to DocVS for the reediting. So I think you readers deserved a release of the edited version. I hope you'll like it. Chapter 1 WARNING: This story contains TG, masturbations, incest and a very brief narration of rape. Dead Men Walking Robert Wallansky aka 'Rocky' looked through the bars of his prison cell over at a guard. It was one of those routine night rounds. He knew who the guard was, in fact, over the last two years he was held here, he knew each and every one of the guards quite well. He even knew their place of residence and their families. If any of the guards were stupid enough to cross him, his crooks outside would know what to do. At 57, Rocky was after all the notorious leader of the New York's mafia 'Corporation' with a massive number of 'employees'. Men like him tend to end up in prison rather frequently. However, he did not predict himself to be put on Death Row for ordering multiple murders of rival gang members, not with the state police and judge on his payroll. So, how did Rocky end up in the Texas State Penitentiary prison? There were two deciding factors: 1) the murder of a greedy corrupted FBI agent and 2) the betrayal of his little brother, Kozak Wallansky, who couldn't wait to take over from him. In a separate cell next to him was 30-year-old Adrian Torres, who unlike his little brother, had showed undivided loyalty towards Rocky. The gangster had been following Rocky from the age of 15. Since then, he had turned out to be a cold blooded killer for Rocky's corporation. Despite his quiet and introverted personality, Torres had executed more than a hundred people before his last victim, which brought him here. It was Rocky who picked him up from the street after bashing his abusive Mexican stepfather's head with a baseball bat. Rocky would always be the father figure for Adrian. While Rocky had been putting on weight over the years, sitting at the top and issuing orders and cashing in on drug money, Adrian Torres had kept himself fit with a towering figure of over 6 ft. Rocky's rotund figure was a stark contrast to Torres's tough and muscular physique. Rocky had a serious balding problem like most men of his age; his loyal right hand man however had tidy, short, raven black hair and short well-kempt beard. The Latino trait in Torres was obvious in his relatively tanned skin as compared to Rocky's pale complexion. Apart from their contrasting physical appearance, they did have a lot of things in common. Both of them had exactly the same tattoos on their shoulders, extending up to their neck. The tattoos were a unique design: skulls with roses and thorns as its background. Both had come from an abusive childhood; both were brutal and would not hesitate to kill in order to survive. Not only that, but both had the same secret. It was a secret that was deemed unacceptable, even humiliating for men of their stature and position. If this secret was ever revealed, it would destroy their reputation as mafia strong men, especially to their followers. You see, despite their ruthless reputations, both men had wished for a different life altogether, away from all the madness and violence. Both men wished they were someone else, someone living a peaceful life. The most shocking part of their secret? Their desire to live a life of someone from the opposite sex. Rocky and Adrian never exactly considered themselves gay, especially when women were easily available to men of their position and power. However, while they enjoyed fucking these women, it always got into their head what it would be like to be them instead. They could only keep it to themselves though, for it was a secret that none of them knew they had shared. Located on an adjacent cell was another member of Rocky's notorious 'family'. Chico Alves certainly didn't expect his boss to have such a secret! Similar to Rocky, Alves had frequented many different prisons in his 38 years of life. As a short and slender man with a pencil thin mustache and sharp piercing eyes, he had openly described himself as a bisexual, having willingly offered his services to countless inmates while serving time. One thing was for sure, Alves was definitely not the guy to hold the door open for a lady. While he didn't mind screwing them, as much as he enjoyed being on the receiving end, he had very little respect for them. To him, they were nothing more than slaves and goods, something used to make money. He had a lot of experience with this, having been the leader of the Corporation's prostitution ring for many years. Many a prostitute recruited with drugs would work solely for him until they dropped dead from an overdose. He was also directly involved with the rape of many new recruits and the murders of those who attempted to escape. Over on the other side of Robert Wallansky's cell was a different kind of criminal. Dr. Kenny Smith was a professor of psychology at a local university. The Ph.D. holder had always been a charming 42-year-old man in appearance, resembling George Clooney in glasses. He used to be very popular amongst his young female students, many of whom would later sleep with him. Utilizing his exceptional manners and good looks, he had slept with many of his more attractive admirers. When one of his students, Samantha Finley, became pregnant and threatened to expose his Casanova ways to the university, the usually calm professor totally lost it. In a never before seen fit of rage, he snapped her neck, and unfortunately was caught as he was trying to dispose of her body. That was how he ended up here. Nevertheless, he had built a good friendship with Rocky for the past two years while in prison. Similar to the professor, 36-year-old Samuel Johnson had never been considered a troublemaker in the past. However, unlike Dr. Smith, Samuel had always been the quiet and shy guy. The 5 ft. 8" African-American grew up in a troubled neighborhood where his peers had regularly turned out on the wrong side of the law. Samuel, on the other hand, dragged himself through college and managed to get himself a job as a banking loan officer. His introverted personality, coupled with an average look and a paunchy body, evaded him from achieving a proper social life. Samuel was fortunate enough to come across a gorgeous white woman named Miss Cassie Fuller when not too long ago, she was applying for a housing loan at his bank. The 26-year-old dancer didn't meet the bank's criteria for the loan. So she flirted with Samuel, even suggested a date with him. On their date together, the loan officer did lose his virginity that night, but everything changed when her loan was finally approved by the bank. Suddenly, Ms. Fuller stopped seeing him, calling him a freak and reported him to the cops for stalking her. He became depressed, but even more so, he was angry. He still remembered how he had snuck up on her when she was returning from a late night soiree with friends. How could he not forget her scream, as well as the look of terror and shock in her face! As he held her in his arms, Ms. Fuller struggled hopelessly to escape the inevitable. Samuel distinctly remembered how he forcefully penetrated her that evening, and how in only a short moment, he had sucked the life out of this attractive lady, his hands around her neck. He disposed of her lifeless body in the ocean, keeping her panties as a souvenir, a souvenir he wore to work the very next day. He relished the experience and pleasure of intimate contact with the soft, delicate fabric of her panties. But this little souvenir ultimately was responsible for bringing him to the state penitentiary, awaiting his death penalty. Maybe he was a freak after all. Tomorrow, these murderers would be sent to the newly built high security prison for their execution. Tomorrow, all of them would face the dreaded electric chair. It would be THE day that the state and the nation would see the last of these sadists. CIA Research Laboratory The highly secretive laboratory was located at a hidden basement of an abandoned building less than a few miles from the state prison. It had been home for Professor Eugene Phillips, a brilliant but low profile inventor and scientist. He had forgotten his own 70th birthday 2 weeks ago, as he was busy putting on the final pieces to his finest invention ever, the Alpha Electron Ray Gun, or AER Gun. Professor Phillips was a small, skinny old man with a bit of a hunch on his back. It had taken him almost 20 years to complete this miraculous masterpiece ever since the CIA secret branch recruited him to produce the ultimate espionage tool. The AER Gun had the amazing ability to turn any human being into a bundle of skins, referred to as a 'live-skin' by Professor Phillips. Once a person was turned into a 'live-skin', another person, regardless of age, size or gender would be able to disguise themselves by donning it as a full body skin suit. The impersonator would obtain the memory, voice, and personality of the disguised, as well as retain their own memory, personality, and mannerisms. Nevertheless, the wearer's personality would always be in charge, while the original person turned into a live- skin would have no memory of the whole process. In order to take off the 'live-skin', one needed to be shot by the AER gun for a second time, so that the entry slit at the back of the neck would reemerge and the disguise would detach itself from the impersonator. The initial build of the AER Gun 5 years ago was deemed a failure due to the fact that subjects being turned into live-skins were unable to be revived back to life. In other words, once the impersonator finished his or her mission, shedding the live-skin would not bring the person shot by the beam of the AER in the first place back to his or her original form. The government and the CIA didn't want the international public to start questioning the ethics of the situation when they discovered dead POWs, witnesses or suspects in their hands with no body but a bunch of dead costumes. Thus, the good old professor started to develop a technology which combined physics and biological science into a rapid cellular regeneration process to reverse the transformation. Such advancement in science required immense sacrifices. Countless numbers of animals and a few human volunteers, usually prisoners on Death Row, were lost to the experiment. When Adrian Torres became the first subject to be successfully revived from his live-skin, Professor Phillips was so joyous that he unintentionally explained the whole supposedly confidential project to the survived prisoner. Little did Mr. Torres realize just how handy this crucial piece of information would be for him later in time. For Professor Phillips, the last 2 decades of hard work and sacrifice had finally paid off. He would not be the laughing stock of the government agency anymore. However, he was also very appreciative to have a capable research assistant in 29-year-old Sarah Patterson. Without Sarah's brilliant mind, the completion of the AER might have become another 'so- close-yet-so-far' failure. He had met Sarah 8 years ago when he was a part-time lecturer at the University of Houston. Even then, Sarah only struck him as a typical beauty enrolled in the University just to fill in the available spaces. However, the gorgeous blonde proved the professor wrong when she managed to solve one of the toughest applied physics problem posted by him. She passed every difficult test rolled out by the professor with flying colors. With a pair of big ocean-blue eyes, a cute button nose and a pair of luscious lips complemented with a slender 110 lb. body, Sarah Patterson easily reminded him of his long deceased wife, a girl with beauty AND brains. Patterson had graduated with distinctions 2 years later and was recruited by the government's secret laboratory due to Professor Phillip's strong recommendation. As per requirement, Miss Patterson had kept her involvement with the CIA a secret even from her family and her surgeon boyfriend. What the professor had kept from the young assistant though, if she had known, would have easily influenced her to immediately resign from her position in the lab... ***** A week ago, after the success of the AER, the old professor couldn't resist trying the AER gun on Miss Patterson. He just couldn't pass on the opportunity, especially when he spotted Sarah, professionally dressed in a white blouse and a tight purple business skirt suit, sitting alone in front of her computer trying to finish her final report on the successful experiment. Late into the night, when the rest of the staff had signed off, Professor Phillips seized his opportunity. With the AER gun, he fired a set of laser-like beams at the unsuspecting Sarah. The weapon produced a barely audible humming sound. Within minutes, the attractive blonde was unknowingly turned into a bunch of skins, crumpled with her clothes on the floor. Professor Phillips quickly stripped down naked, separating Sarah's clothes from her live-skin. Excited, the elderly scientist then proceeded to don the skin of his young assistant. The live-skin was an elastic silicone-like entity which was very easy to put on despite the professor being slightly taller. While 'wearing' Sarah, the professor observed how the live-skin immediately merged to his feet and legs, shaping into the limbs of Ms. Patterson. His fully erected manhood somehow disappeared underneath Sarah's blonde mound. Pulling the skin up over his shoulder, he slipped his arms into Sarah's while watching the girl's perky pair of breasts expanded on his chest. His arthritic hands suddenly turned into smooth small ones with dainty fingers. Finally pulling the Sarah's head onto his own, he felt the weight of her long wavy blonde hair on his scalp. It only took a few seconds for him to open Sarah's big ocean-blue eyes. There were no signs of his ailing cataracts as he stumbled initially to get used to his new sense of balance. He did feel lighter and healthier without all those nagging joint pains he was suffering from rheumatism. The old man had never felt this good in years. When he tried to feel the back of his new neck, he realized that the entry slit at the back of the skin's neck had vanished. The whole process was virtually painless as he could only felt a kind of tingling sensation while the skin was attached to his body. He closed his eyes again, trying to pry into Sarah Patterson's memory. After only a few seconds, a clear- cut image resembling a recent memory of his assistant appeared in view for him to study. He saw that Sarah had just had an argument with her boyfriend last night about her being too obsessed with work. He also saw that she recently had lied to him about working at Houston's NASA research facility. Perfect, he thought, so the memory component of the live-skin was functioning perfectly. "Now, let us proceed with our little experiment," he said in Sarah's sultry voice. The next thing he did was to feel up Sarah's boobs. The skin's sensory and tactile feedback from the finger was working wonderfully! In fact, he had never felt anything like this before. He looked at his feminine hands, then his shapely body and noticed all the freckles, creases - which were very minimal on Sarah's young porcelain skin. She had a small butterfly tattoo on her right butt cheek. With no one else in the lab, 'she' made herself comfortable, sitting on a lab stool with 'her' legs spread apart in an uncharacteristically wide gap. 'She' then started groping her breast with her feminine left hand while her right hand was feeling the emptiness of her new pudenda. The live-skin was not just a layer of suit for disguise; it had the ability to rearrange your bones and body structures according to the DNA from the live-skin. As a result, the professor's growing erection wasn't just merely hidden under Sarah's mound. Instead, it was structurally reconstructed to that of a female sex organ. This was confirmed when he was able to slide Sarah's slender middle finger through the pussy juices into his new vagina. They went all the way inside until her female palm came in contact with the clitoris. What surprised 'her' were the remarkable sensations she received by merely touching the clitoris. The ticklish warmth was spreading from her head to the tip of her toes. For a brief moment, she almost fell from her lab stool. It was extraordinary as these multitudes of foreign sensations were totally different from what the scientist had ever experience as a man for the last 70 years. Then he pried again into the memory of his young assistant, this time observing Sarah's masturbation session whenever she felt lonely. Shifting from the stool to a lab table, 'she' laid down in a supine position, one hand gently squeezing and fondling Sarah's perfect tits, while the dainty fingers of her other hand rubbed gently on her borrowed clit. It felt so peculiarly good when 'she' slid a finger into it. Gradually, one slender finger didn't seem fulfilling as she inserted a second finger, occupying the very tightness of her womanhood. It didn't take long for Professor Phillips to experience his first orgasm for the first time in a woman's body. After a couple more orgasms, 'Sarah' just laid there on the table, enjoying the afterglow of such an amazing experience. A puddle of 'her' juices collected around her groin on the table. 'She' brought her wet fingers to her mouth and tasted the sweet secretions. 'She' loved the smell too. While Professor Phillips reveled in the moment a little longer, he knew he had to take off 'Sarah' soon before she realized anything was amiss. To reverse the disguise, the professor shot himself with the AER gun. The slit on the back of his neck reappeared for him to shed the live-skin. The satisfied man then carefully sealed the small elastic opening at the back of Sarah's neck, holding it together for 5 minutes. He watched the live-skin inflate itself like a human shaped balloon. Cells, tissue and bones regenerated at an astounding speed, filling the hollow insides. Within minutes, the revived Sarah Patterson was lying on the floor, naked and unconscious. The professor swiftly redressed the beautiful research assistant before she awoke from her nap, without any memory of being worn by the old man. She would only assume that she had accidentally dozed off at her desk. ***** "Professor Phillips, you're still here?" Sarah roused the old man from his trance. The thoughts of that invaluable affair had managed to build quite an erection under his baggy pants. "Yeah, I just need to make sure everything is ready for tomorrow's reveal. I thought you left with the rest of them." "No, not just yet. I was making some final preparation for tomorrow's presentation of the AER to the CIA board of directors as well. Kind of nervous about it, to be honest with you," admitted the attractive blonde. "Don't worry, you'll do just fine. Trust me," the elderly inventor reassured his young assistant. "Besides, I'm going to be there with you. What your body needs now is a good night's rest. That'll be the best preparation you'll ever need, trust me. Go home," the professor advised, with an emphasis on the word 'body'. "Alright, but the same goes for you. You've been camping in this underground lab for the past three weeks, cut yourself some slack. You're not as young as you think, you know," Sarah jokingly said. The elderly man had a malicious thought: Well that's about to change... soon. Instead he said, "I know I know...you go on ahead and I'll call it a day after checking the final report from the diagnostic. I'll see you tomorrow." "Ok then, good night," smiled Sarah, as she turned to walk down the hallway towards an elevator. Instead of looking at his report, he was enjoying the view of his assistant's nice pert rump swaying with each graceful step. She looked so good in that body hugging business suit skirt. It showed off all of her curves without revealing too much. 'Oh, what he would give to have that body,' thought the professor lewdly. The Transfers Bradley Kingston's reliable Casio watch showed the time of 0830. He was sitting in the driver's seat of a large Coca Cola truck. But it wasn't a typical soft-drink transportation vehicle. It might have looked like one from the outside, but the interior was actually a custom- built, satellite-monitored high security transporter equipped with all the state-of-the art secured technologies, from the 10-inch thick metal steel safe hidden behind cartons of dummy soft drinks, to the 20 or so live cameras both on the inside and the exterior of the vehicle. In fact, there was even one pointing directly at Kingston, the person in charge of this highly confidential mission. "Check, check...Testing? McCarthy, are you there? Over." "Loud and clear, handsome. I think you may wanna put that Cola cap on. Don't want any of your mistresses recognizing you. Over," joked the female agent from the inside of the lab. She was with Professor Smith and his assistant Ms. Patterson, securing the AER into an elongated briefcase. Much like her partner, Heidi McCarthy was an excellent CIA agent in her own right. At 32, she had been honored to be able to work with an outstanding agent like Kingston, the man responsible for the captures of many a most wanted international terrorist. She was learning new tricks every day from the 45-year-old veteran. Sometimes, she felt attracted to her rather handsome-looking partner. But she realized as soon as she joined the agency that personal relationships could be a pain in the butt, especially when it involved a fellow agent. For his age, Bradley Kingston believed that staying fit also helped to sharpen the mind. When there was no mission for him, he would be working out at the nearest gym. He turned down many offers and promotions to the office just to be on the field, running and hunting. Besides, sitting behind a desk with all the extra paper works was not quite his thing. While agent McCarthy did not have as much field experience as Kingston, she had also been involved with multiple high profile captures. Her physical appearance was not as big as her reputation in the department. At 5 ft. 3" and a 107 lb. small figure, she was one of those beauties you wouldn't expect to be travelling around the world hunting down criminals or terrorists, unless of course you were watching a Hollywood movie. But the brunette, with short straight raven black hair, gray green eyes, high nose and a pair of tasty lips, wasn't just all looks, although she did use her charm to get things done occasionally. These two agents were the very few entrusted with information regarding the AER as not many from the various government departments had any knowledge about it. The head of CIA, the defense secretary and the two scientists who invented it were the only other parties informed. Now they were going to transport this ultimate espionage tool to a classified location for the reveal. It was only meant for one very important audience, the president of the United States. "Agent Kingston, the object has been loaded into the safe, locked and secured. Over," confirmed McCarthy. "Copy that, agent McCarthy. Please join me in the front and we'll be ready to roll." The AER was not difficult to be mobilized as it was compact and weight as much as a small rifle. Apart from rather huge cylindrical chambers that both attached to the top and the bottom of its barrel it almost looked like one. The other difference of course was that instead of bullets, it fired beams from muzzles located on the two chambers and the barrel. "I'll see you at the reveal location, Professor Phillips and Ms. Patterson," shaking the hand of the two scientists before making her way to the passenger side of the Coca Cola truck as it moved out of the abandoned warehouse and onto the road. The Wilsons' Holiday Cabin. Along Route 63 where the Coca Cola truck was travelling, there was a pleasant pine forest reserve for family retreats or summer camps for teenagers. The Wilsons owned a private holiday log cabin deep in this forest right beside a scenic lake. The head of the family, Oliver Wilson, was a successful businessman and real estate investor. At the age of 45, he had managed to establish his own real estate company with a net worth of more than a billion. He had married his wife at a very young age, both becoming parents to three very beautiful children. Despite him being well into middle-age, indicated by his receding hair line, his loving wife had always made sure that he kept himself in good health and even better shape. He was about 5 ft 10", weighing about 160 lbs. with a sturdy but not overly muscular body. A pair of deep-blue eyes was hidden behind his glasses which made him look a bit nerdy at times. Always the workaholic, he was constantly reminded by his wife for the past 21 years that family should ALWAYS come first. That's the main reason why they bought the vacation cabin among these natural trees and never missed their annual family outing for the last nine years. While Mr. Wilson was sitting comfortably on a beach chair in front of the cabin watching his teenage kids enjoying themselves dipping in the clean water of the lake, his lovely wife, Katherine was busy preparing a healthy lunch for the family. The 42-year-old mother and former beauty pageant winner was also the health and fitness instructor for the family. No fast food, junk snacks, alcohol, cigarette smoking or any unhealthy conduct allowed in the family. Both her parents and her husband's parents had died of cardiovascular disease before the birth of their grandchildren. So she had made a pledge to do everything possible to keep the same fate away from her spouse and their children. In fact, she had just run 2 early morning miles while the whole family was still sleeping. Katherine believed that working out and eating healthy would also help to maintain her youth and beauty. She was about 5 ft. 6", where a pair of 4 inch high heels would bring her eye to eye with Oliver, weighing in at just 110 lbs., despite having gave birth to three beautiful children. From her long wavy blonde hair to the tip of her delicate toes, there was no hint of a lady that was past her forties. Due to the constant bra wearing, her ample breasts stood proudly, just as pert as her tight derriere. She managed to keep her endlessly long legs smooth and nicely shaped due to her regular exercise. But it was Katherine's face which was what especially melted the heart of most men. Big ocean-blue eyes, high cheekbones and those full luscious lips did cause a few people to mistake her for that elegant actress, Maria Bello. As she looked out from the kitchen window towards the lake where her family was, Katherine thought about how grateful she was to have a rich and successful husband and three wonderful children. It certainly was great to be Katherine Wilson. Olivia Wilson, on the other hand, wasn't as grateful, at least for the time being. The 20-year-old university student had just broken up with her boyfriend after going out for 2 years. They had originally planned a trip together to New York for the summer break before Olivia caught him in bed with another girl. Having the company of her supportive family kept her mind occupied while chipping away the negativities she had been experiencing lately. As a matter of fact, despite having a mother obsessed with health and a workaholic father, she loved her family and never once complained about spending time with them. Like her mother, Olivia was also a definite looker. As tall as Katherine, she weighed not more than 120 lbs. and had a very nice figure. Her mesmerizing deep blue eyes, narrow straight nose and pair of plump lips was framed by a dark brown hair which was slightly wavy and extending past her shoulder. As she got up from the lake, the rays of sunlight glistened from every droplet of water running down the curves of her bikini-covered size C perky tits as well as the rest of her slender body. "Hey, Livy. You're not gonna help me out here?" her 17-year-old sister, Rachel Wilson, asking for help in a water splashing battle against Kevin, the youngest in the typical American family. "Aren't you guys too old for this?" their big sister replied, getting a tongue out from the younger sister. At her age, Rachel had the luxury of getting all her genes from her gorgeous mother. In fact, she was almost an exact carbon copy when Katherine was her age. The cheerleader captain had a 5 ft. 4" small body weighing at just 106 lbs. with an already well developed woman curves. Rachel's sapphire-blue eyes and lovely face was framed by straight shoulder-length honey blonde hair. Her newly bought slinky bikini top hid the perkiest pair of perfectly proportioned size B tits. Years of cheerleading at school has given her such an athletic and slender figure, in addition to her mother's very strict 'health codes', of course. By far the most popular girl in school, Rachel Wilson was currently dating the school's basketball captain, Tommy George. Unlike Olivia and Rachel, Kevin was not as popular in school, at least not among the girls. The 15 year old had an IQ score of 146 and was always more at ease among the nerds. Just like dad, Kevin was always more about brains than looks. He was the reigning state chess grand champion and the president of the school's science club. Kevin had almost caught up to his dad at 5 ft. 10" but was also just a little bit underweight at just 110 lbs. He looked on as Rachel was also getting out of the lake onto the small jetty, obviously defeated in the water-splashing war with her little brother, to join Olivia and their dad on the beach chairs. His sisters had all grown up to be beautiful girls. Even though his geek friends had always envied his fortune to have such a gorgeous mother and smokin' hot sisters, he never quite got turned on by them. Instead, it felt gross for him to even consider of his mother and sisters as sexual subjects. The thought gave him an eerie shudder and with a quick shake of his head, he too got up from the lake and joined the rest of his family at the log cabin. The Prisoners' Transfer Robert Wallansky didn't sleep at all last night. Now he had both of his hands secured in the heaviest of iron shackles. The same goes for his feet. These things must have weighed tons judging by the difficulty he was having trying to drag them out of his cell, escorted by two hefty prison guards. The crappy food they served him for the last two years here didn't help to add any strength to his aging body. He did have one of the best meals last night, those nice food and drinks they gave prisoners the day before their execution. "Hey boss, you ready for this? I know I am," Alves said from the back of the five men line, also dragging those heavy cuffs connected with chains. "Yeah, I guess this is it. Not as eager as the tone of ya voice though. What 'bout ya doc?" the mafia boss diverted the question to his psychologist friend, Dr. Kenny Smith. "This is all part of a life cycle. So there's no escaping it, unless some miracle happens which will be extremely unlikely. Really a pleasure to have met you nice gentlemen here," admitted Dr. Smith. "Well, we're at the stage of, whatcha call that.... a-ac-acceptance, rite doc? So might as well appreciate ma good friend for being such a good company here for the last couple of years in this crappy place," Rocky said without a gram of regret or remorse. He didn't like his life anyway. Never a man to consider taking his own life, this might be the best ending for him. Maybe he could be reborn as a new person, starting a new life. Of course, should he be given the option, he would want to try out life as a beautiful and sexy girl, getting whatever he wanted without the violence, but Rocky decided to keep that wishful thought to himself. "Kinda glad that they're letting us out to see the outside world for the last time before ending us on that disco-tech chair," said Alves, giving the dreadful electric chair a fancy name. "Keep that mouth shut and move along," ordered one of the guards leading the five dead men walking down the hallway towards another heavy iron door. There was another group of prison guards waiting for them to arrive before they could unlock the massive piece of steel. Footsteps were rhythmically interrupted by the clanking sounds of heavy chains and shackles as the group move past the unlocked door. The keys to these chains were safeguarded by one of the escort guards. After what Rocky counted to be the 5th and final steel door, the five Death Row inmates were finally being exposed to the morning glimmers of sun light. It had been a while since they managed this far, the solar rays almost blinding Rocky even with his eyes squinted. The warm sensation was dancing on his rough and sandy skin. The exposure to Mother Nature was short-lived when they were all sent into a heavily armored prisoner transport. It was one of those 45 ft. by 9 ft. giant buses with an impressive number of wheels and a custom built cabin to securely fit in high profile prisoners like them. The five of them had their hand chains locked to the seats in front of them while the escort guards were all seated behind, including the one holding the master keys. His loyal henchman, Adrian Torres, was seated right in front of him. Not much of a conversation guy. Rocky wondered what must be going on through his mind right now. Just like that black kid, the bank accountant seated across from him, Samuel Johnson. "Hey Adrian, I know you've signed a nondisclosure with the government regarding that experiment you volunteered last month. But since all of us are dying, I say we fuck the agreement and you interest my curiosity on what they did to you that day," Rocky inquired as the bus started moving. This seems to get the attention of both Dr. Smith and Chico Alves as well. "Do tell. Do tell. There's nothing like a good story to go with a comfy bus ride" Dr. Smith urged on. "Yeah, I'm still pissed that they chose ya because of your so-called healthier piece of meat. What'd they do to ya in there, honey? Messin' with ya already mess-up head?" Alves grinned, attempting to provoke Torres. Prisoner Samuel Johnson hid his curiosity and just sat there quietly, listening. Torres, in his deep but clear voice, told them about the AER. It was clear enough to be heard by the five Death Row inmates despite noises from the engines and sirens from the two police escorts in front and another two behind their prisoner transfer bus. The escort guards were too busy chatting among themselves at the back, paying no attention to the story of prisoner Torres. It was a story that even if they overheard it, they wouldn't have believed it. After all, how would you register something like being shot by some science prop and got turned into a 'costume' so that others can put on to be you? "They really did messed up ya head, didn't they?" blurted Alves after Torres finished his account of that experiment. Rocky found it hard to swallow such a fictitious story as well, but he knew Adrian Torres only too well to work up something like that. There was something very similar on one of those TG stories he had secretly read on that website Fictionmania. If Adrian was lying, there wasn't a hint of it, by the look of his eyes; the same stone-cold look that had served him so well down the years. Deep down inside, he wished that what he had just heard was true so that he could try to escape, look for the damn AE- something, and become someone totally different. Taking over someone else's life and escaping from his impending fate. "Moments like this tend to make you say things you don't normally say. But I applaud your imagination," Dr. Smith concluded. "I'm telling the truth..." before Torres finished his sentence, they all suddenly heard a loud explosion. The Train Track Switch Station Along Route 63, there was one of America's oldest railways, the Southern train route. The route used to be one of the busiest ways of transportation between the two states, crossing the border all the way to Mexico. Carrying freights of agricultural goods from the south, it used to be the mode of transportation for passengers as well in the '60s wishing to travel up north. By the turn of the century, this train line was only used for mobilizing factory products to the northern states. On the 7th section, the train track, there was a switch station at the junction of the train routes from the south travelling either up north or to the west. Charles Renner wasn't supposed to be on duty today if not for the sudden passing of Ray's mother. Today was supposed to be his day off, though it's not like he had anything to do on a day off anyway, apart from getting himself drunk at a local bar. Into his late 30s, he had been living alone since his wife left him for another man 5 years ago. He had since found comfort in drinking. The three warnings he got however didn't stop him from bringing a flask of his favorite tequila to the switch station this morning. By 9:00 am, Charles was already half drunk. When a radio communication from a north bound locomotive came in, he was sound asleep. There was another train moving south from the west at 9: 15 am. Instead of going north, the train from the south was on route for a head- on collision with another locomotive coming from the opposite direction; all because of Charles's failure to switch the track on schedule. By the time both train operators realized the screw-up, they tried desperately to engage the emergency brake, but it was all too late. The collision happened with a loud explosion, throwing freights from the southern locomotive off the track and onto Route 63 where a cola truck, a prison bus and four police vehicles were travelling. The Accident Agent Kingston and McCarthy were talking about their previous mission when they heard a loud bang coming from the rail track on their right. Before the two CIA agents could come to grips with what was happening, a massive line of freight cars were thrown on the road right in their path. They didn't have time to react or even scream when the AER transporter collided with one of the freight cars lying sideways across the road at 68 miles an hour. Another explosion followed. Adrian Torres was trying to convince his fellow Death Row mates about the experiment when they heard the first explosion. Freights of cargos and train cars were swinging away from the railway onto their path. They witnessed the two police vehicles in front literally thrown into the sky before their own heavily armored carriage ran straight into the explosion. The guards sitting at the rear were greeted with further impacts from the other two police vehicles behind. Multiple explosions ensued. All of these happened so fast that no one had any chance to react. In a matter of seconds, Route 63 was a scene of massive devastation with smoke from burning fire, unrecognizable vehicles and cargos. The train switch station was reduced to nothing but bricks and steels. Charles didn't even get to finish the last of his favorite liquor. Dead bodies were lying all over the places with burning cartons of vegetables, dead live-stocks and cans of dummy soft drinks. A few miles away, the Wilsons were having a healthy vegetarian lunch when they heard the series of explosions. Oliver got up from his seat and went straight out of the cabin to find the source of the blasts. The first thing he saw was smoke billowing followed by further loud bangs coming from the north side of the trees. That was the direction of Route 63. This could only mean that a major accident has occurred. The subsequent explosions indicated something much more serious than a usual road accident. "What was that dad?" inquired Kevin who joined him outside their holiday cabin. His mother, Katherine, in a yellow knee-length sleeveless summer dress, stood at the veranda with a concerned look on her lovely face. She was later joined by her daughters; Olivia in a red tank top and tight jean shorts, and Rachel in a pink strapless summer dress, its hem much higher than her mom's. "I'm not exactly sure, but the sound's coming from the road on the northern side of the woods. I hope it didn't involve the train running beside it. I think I'm gonna go check it out to see if I could lend a hand." Oliver had a bad feeling that there might be more than a few casualties, going by the magnitude and the number of the explosions. His considerable knowledge in first aid might come in handy at times like this. "Dad, let me go with you. I have experience as the school's sports medical team. I want to help," Kevin volunteered. Oliver hated to admit it but the kid did have the know-how and a good pair of hands. Exposure like this could bring the man out of his boy. "Ok Kevin, you come with me. Katherine, you and the girls stay inside the cabin and call 911. Let them know about the explosions and a possible accident on Route 63," ordered the middle aged man as he climbed into his black GMC Terrain with his son. "You boys be careful, ok?" Katherine emphasized. She and her girls watched her men drove off, praying for their safety. Katherine went back into the cabin with her daughters. In no time, Rachel was already tweeting away on her iPhone what she heard and the possibility of something big finally happening in their boring summer family vacation. Olivia was busy chatting away with her best friend, Mary Lynn. Cellphones were usually prohibited in family outings like this, but since Katherine was busy reporting the happenings to the police and later to her good friend and neighbor, Claire Pearson, mostly to comfort her own worries - the situation had pretty much changed. On the Scene After riding past the pines and the tall trees through the forest's dirt roads, Oliver turned his SUV onto the tarmac of Route 63. The smokes were getting nearer. The air was becoming stale. Barely 10 minutes on the main road, they immediately arrived onto the scene which was much worse than they could have anticipated. It was a scene of total destruction with vehicles, cargo and train wreckages piling up from horizontally cutting off the whole of the main road all the way to the parallel railway 20 feet beside it. Smoke emitted from burning wreckages, woods and steels. Mutilated and badly burnt human bodies were seen lying all over the destructions. The surprising discovery though was a lot of them were wearing police and some other uniforms. A few charred prison uniforms were also spotted. Some of the bodies were totally naked. Oliver looked over to Kevin who seemed a little overwhelmed. "Are you alright, son?" Kevin nodded his head, speechless. A few other vehicles started to arrive on the scene, most were from the summer camp nearby. Not long after, a forest ranger truck stopped on the same side of the massive wreckage as the Wilsons. The young ranger who got out of the truck was obviously shaken by what he's seeing; judging by the walkie on his trembling hand and his stuttering speech trying to report to whoever was on the other end. "Th... This.. I.. I just don't know how to describe something th.. This is big. Al, you better get your fat ass down here and see for yourself. Inform the state police, hospitals... or the mortuary. We have unidentified number of officers and civilians casualties, I repeat, unidentified number of officers and civilians casualties. This is a...CATASTROPHE!" the ranger reported, urgently requested for back up. Then he turned his attention towards Oliver and Kevin: "Stay away from the fire or any combustibles. Try not to get too near to the wreckage. If you wanna help, just use your eyes and shout to look for survivors. Keep a safe distance. Knock on steels or shout as loud as you can if you spotted one. A medic will arrive shortly," Upon receiving the instructions, the Oliver, Kevin and few other volunteers went to work. The search proceeded for more than 30 minutes before Kevin noticed police vehicles, fire fighters, ambulances and a couple of mysterious looking black governmental vehicles arrived on both sides of the scene. A CNN helicopter was hovering over them. Then, they heard someone shouted: "Survivor! Survivor! I found one right here," a group of four to five firefighters and paramedics urgently made their way to one of wreckages. By now, all fires had been extinguished. Oliver and Kevin looked on as they managed to extract what they thought must be the only survivor in this horrible accident. The Survivor Bradley Kingston didn't know what had just happened. The last thing he remembered was some casual chat with his partner while driving a camouflaged agency truck transporting a highly classified package. Now he could see train cars and cargos lined across the path of their speeding truck, with him pinned down by the steering and its airbag. His vision was obscured by blood dripping down from his scalp. His right leg hurt like hell. As a matter of fact, his whole body hurt like hell. He couldn't even feel his left leg at all. A huge piece of metal was lying on top of what used to be his truck cabin. Through the excruciating pain, he could still move both of his upper limbs. He tried to push the cabin door open but the slab of heavy metal was in the way. Agent Kingston then tried to look around for his 32 year old partner, Agent McCarthy. He saw her distorted body, lying lifelessly at the bottom of the wreckage, heavy steel debris weighing down on the poor young agent. The way her neck was traumatically turned to almost 180 degrees, Bradley knew she was dead. Among the steel and metals of what used to be trains and vehicles, there was a small opening where he could look outside. Despite the brightness of the daylight, he saw a few men, five, he counted, moving sluggishly out of the wreckages on the other side. With his compromised vision, he could barely recognize that all five of them were in state prison uniforms. One of them was helping the others to unlock the chains and the handcuffs. Thoughts began to stream through his mind; what are these prisoners doing here? Were they in the midst of being transferred to another facility? Were they or their accomplices the ones responsible for this massive crash in order to escape? Then, the next thing he saw was causing him to express panic in his usually calm head. He saw one of the prisoners find an opened elongated briefcase among the burning wreckages and showed it to the others. Despite the blurry vision, Bradley Kingston was sure that the distinctive case had a very important object in it, the Alpha Electron Ray Gun. As the panic set in, he started to scream, shout and even knock on objects around him for their attention, hoping that they would be frightened, leave the AER and run away. None of them heard or noticed him. All these frantic actions only served to exhaust his already severely injured body. The bleeding from his wounds drew the last of his energy as he began to slip out of consciousness. The last thing he saw was the prisoners, some of them whom managed to change into police uniforms, carry the AER and moved into the pine forest beside Route 63. ***** The shouting voices and some knocking sounds from the outside woke Agent Kingston. He wasn't sure how long he had passed out but he was sure thankful to be alive, for now. He still needed to let the rescuer know his location. For the second time that day, he frantically screamed, shouted and made knocking noises. One of the rescuers spotted him and relayed his discovery to the rest of the crew. When he was pulled out of the wreckages with a lot of difficulty, he realized the loss of his left leg up to the knee. The right leg had fractures at multiple places. His skull, while intact, was totally exposed on the right side. Both of his arms had various cuts and bruises. While he was being carried to the ambulance, the severity of the injuries he suffered didn't stop him from seeking the person in charge. He needed to let them now, THEY HAD TO KNOW. Back to the Cabin They didn't do much apart from trying to search for survivors. But the 2 hours they spent on that horrible scene zapped a significant amount of energy out of Oliver and Kevin Wilson. Sadly, they didn't get to utilize their first aid knowledge as there weren't that many survivors. By the time they left the place to return to their holiday cabin, the uniforms only managed to dig up a barely alive man. The poor guy kept shouting and demanding to see the person in charge. He was deliriously claiming about somebody escaping or some sort of stolen stuff. The paramedics thought that it must be the concussion and the blood loss he suffered, which was justified, seeing as the guy had just lost his left leg and his right one was barely hanging on to his hip. It was woeful to see, but ultimately it was good to know that someone did come out alive. Oliver turned his SUV back into the rough roads leading to the entry point of the forest. He looked over to Kevin who seemed motionless on the passenger side. His son was just looking straight ahead with a rather gloomy expression. Was this too much of an exposure for a 15 year old boy, after seeing those dead bodies? Oliver had hoped not. "Are you alright, son?" asked Oliver, concerned. . "I'm ok, I guess... I wonder what that man was yelling about. It seems very important to him." "My thought was that he'd been shaken up pretty badly. Sometimes these things can affect you mentally. He might not remember what he'd just said when he wakes up tomorrow in the hospital bed," reassured Oliver as he made the final turn towards the lake side cabin. Both of them were somehow glad that they were now back to the beautiful sight of their holiday log cabin, a big, welcome difference to the horrific scenery of the crash site. Oliver anticipated a whole bunch of questions from Katherine and his daughters as he pulled up the black GMC to the front yard. As he got out from the vehicle, he didn't expect not to see the girls waiting at the veranda or the cabin's door when he was sure that they would have heard their arrival. When they walked towards the cabin's closed door, they heard some funny noises and voices coming from the inside. As they got closer to the main door, Oliver recognized the noises as loud rhythmic squeaks of furniture from inside the log cabin. Then he heard what he thought were the girls' moans and grunts. He looked at Kevin with his son returning the same puzzling look. The front door was locked. When they heard what sound like a deep male voice, Oliver started to panic as he stumbled to get the keys out of his pockets. Urgently, the family man used the keys to unlock the solid wooden door. He fumbled a bit but still managed to swing the door open. The father and son were dumbfounded by what was transpiring before them. Shocking was an understatement as they witnessed some sort of an orgy going on in the middle of the vast living area. Various articles of clothing, bras and panties were scattered all over the place. Katherine, the well-preserved and health conscious mother, was totally naked and covered in sweat. She was groping her own breasts while bouncing up and down on the hips of a naked black man lying on the sofa between her legs. An equally naked Rachel was sitting on top of the black guy's face with him obviously eating her pussy. With both arms resting on Katherine's shoulders, Rachel was leaning forward in a passionate tongue locking with her mom. Not the type of kissing one would expect to see from a mother and her teenaged daughter. Just beside the threesome on the carpeted floor, Olivia was on her knees, her head bobbing up and down in between the legs of an older guy seated on a comfortable recliner. This guy was wearing a police uniform with his pants around the ankles. All of them, including Oliver's wife and daughters, had a very pleasurable look on their face. Mr. Wilson was so stunned that he dropped his keys onto the expensive wooden floor. This caught the attention of the older white guy on the recliner. An evil grin appeared on his bearded face. "Hey Rocky, looks like we have ourselves some guests!" the name was unfamiliar to both Oliver and Kevin. Was it the name of black guy on the sofa shagging Katherine and Rachel? He didn't seem to buck from his enjoyment. Instead, Katherine withdrew her tongue from Rachel's mouth and turned her head to look at the older guy, then towards the doorway where her husband and son were standing, motionless and very confused. "Oh honey, I... didn't... realize... you have... returned," she said intermittently with her hip's vertical movement on the black guy's cock. Then she turned to the old man and spoke in a very out-of-character way; "Hey, doc... Those two... are this... slut's husband... and son... I told you... they went out... to check on... our crash site. Zap them with that... toy gun..." Katherine, or Rocky instructed the man in police uniform, who was at the time receiving the most wonderful blowjob from Olivia. "Damn, just when I'm getting so near. Hey Alves, would you be so kind to take a break for a while. Gotta zap those two gentlemen over there," requested the man. Olivia, for some reason, answered to the name and stopped her act of fellatio. With a mixture of saliva and pre-cum on her face and dripping down the edge of her pretty lips, she turned around to look at her confused father and a disgusted Kevin. At that moment, she had a malicious, smirk on her face that was never seen before by either Oliver or Kevin. "Wh... What's going on? What's the meaning of this, Katherine? Who are these people?" Oliver finally managed to speak, completely dumbfounded. However, those were also his last words before the white guy brought out from beside the recliner some sort of rifle or gun with cylinders attached to its barrel. In an instant, he aimed at the two confused males, as the gun projected multiple beams simultaneously first at Oliver, then at the motionless boy beside him. After being 'shot', they lost all channels of sensation and felt nothing. It was total darkness and silence for the two Wilsons, and they were turned into two bunches of skins on the floor crumpled together with their clothes. To be continued...