The truth can be more unbelievable than any work of fiction.
That’s why Sam is having such a hard time trying to reconcile what she was seeing with what she knew to be reality. Things further complicate when her boss presents an astounding revelation that she finds hard to swallow even as the symptoms of her strange malady tell her there’s something more to what’s going on than she can understand.
Sam sat there stunned for a few long moments in both confusion and shock. She had no idea why he'd set it up that way, or even if he was telling the truth. Then again, there really wasn't any reason for him to lie to her, at least not right now. She was more compromised than him, so she had a larger stake in keeping silent.
"I…I don't understand," she finally managed to choke out.
"I own the entirety of the company, besides those shares given to the board members and a few exclusive individuals," he explained. "I created the two entities in order to buy the majority of the stock without anyone seeing what I'd done. Thus I retain the deciding opinion on any and all affairs."
"But that doesn't make any sense," Sam protested. "How can you be the same person if the company was opened over sixty years ago? That'd make you at least eighty years old."
"Eighty years old?" He laughed at some joke Sam didn't understand. "
I can't recall when such a small number had any importance to me." His amusement fell off his face when he noticed her disturbed expression. "I know I haven't made it easy for you to guess. I suppose there really was no way to tell you except up front like this." He paused as though deliberating his decision, or second guessing himself.
"Tell me what? What's going on?" Sam suddenly had the urge to throw herself out to the mercy of traffic. Her fellow occupant seemed to be having some sort of mental breakdown or hallucination. Maybe he really did believe he was the president.
"Sam, I know this is difficult for you to understand," he tried to soothingly calm her. "It was much the same with Mrs. Winkle and Miss Taylor, but even they in their stiff realism could believe me."
"Believe that you're the president?" That only made her believe that there was something in the office water.
"Well, that, and the idea of my being a fallen angel."
"Let me out. Now." That was too much for Sam. Now she felt like she was being used in some sick, abusive joke.
"Just hear me out, Sam." He was pleading with her, but she wasn't going to give him a second chance.
Sam went for the door closest to her and found it to be locked. Out of frustration she yanked on it a few times as Davies looked on. He had an expression of pity mixed with disappointment. After a few moments of trying, Sam angrily turned to him.
"Let me the fuck out!"
"I will let you out at your home," he emphasized. "I would rather not lose you to some violent street bum or careless vehicle."
"I'm not yours to lose!" she shouted back. She began kicking at the door and Smith's voice came over the intercom.
"Is there a problem, sir?"
"No, but we may need to hurry on to our destination," Davies replied.
"All right, sir."
Smith stepped on the gas peddle and Sam lost her balance. She would have fallen toward the back of the car if they hadn't abruptly stopped, causing her to fall back down into her seat. She rubbed her bruised tush as she glared at her employer. To hell with the job, nothing was worth putting up with this man who strained her emotions and forced her to keep secrets. No job was worth that.
"Are you ready to listen?" he asked.
"Are you ready to let me go?" she shot back. He sighed and shook his head. "Then I guess not."
"You don't have to be so difficult. I'm not going to hurt you."
"No, but you are keeping me captive," she pointed out. She slammed her hand against the roof of the car. She usually wasn't this violent, but she hated being trapped in such a small, dark space.
"What can I do to convince you I mean you no harm?" He held up his hand when she opened her mouth. "Besides letting you out this moment."
Sam pouted, but she did take his request seriously. Her frenzied mind couldn't think of any option immediately, but then she hit on an idea.
"How about you tell me the truth," she insisted. "The whole truth. None of this bullshit about being old enough to be my grandfather."
"Then I cannot." He sadly shook his head and turned away. "I've told you only the truth. The only wrong thing I have done is to keep you in the dark for even this long." His voice betrayed his sincerity and Sam was struck by its depth. He seemed genuinely saddened by any deception he'd done to her. "You may not believe my story, but may I tell you what plans I have for us?"
"Plans? What kind of plans?" She wasn't sure whether to be suspicious or giddy. She'd let his words decide that for her.
"For our future." Her heart skipped a beat. He was a little amused by her attentive expression. "You didn't seriously believe I was using you solely for my sexual appetites, did you?"
"I don't know what to believe anymore," she softly replied. He gave her a gentle smile, but she wasn't done yet. "But you haven't been helping me," she added, and there was a hint of scorn in her tone. "You've been catching me when I'm not ready and getting more dangerous with where we're doing it."
"I agree with you there," he replied with a firm nod. "I've treated you terribly and at great risk to your integrity among your fellow coworkers." He turned back to her and his expression was more serious. "But in the most recent incidents, I'm afraid I wasn't completely in control of myself." Sam derisively snorted at his statement.
"So you're saying what? That the voice inside you was telling you to do all that stupid stuff?"
"Not exactly." He hesitated a moment, and then shrugged. "It was the other part of me. My other personality, if you will." Sam's eyes grew wide. Now she knew she was stuck in the car with a psycho. Her fear was evident in her face, and but he felt he could no longer allay her fears. "The other part is the demonic portion of my being." She slunk back in her seat. She knew the doors were useless to try to open, so she merely tried to make as much space between them as possible. "He hungers for you, Sam. It's a hunger I can no longer control." If that was meant to comfort her, he utterly failed. "Sam, you must understand. Neither of us would ever want to hurt you."
"Like I'm going to believe that," she shot back as she slid along the seat to the farthest corner from him. "You're telling me all this crazy stuff and you think I'm going to believe you on anything?"
"I don't expect you to believe me." He sadly shook his head. "Even if I were to say I loved you more than life itself, you would not believe me." This startled her, but she still had those nagging doubts about whether to trust his words. "The only thing I have at my disposal is the ability to show you what I can offer you, and hope that what you see you'll believe."
Sam watched in a mixture of fascination and horror as an aura suddenly grew around body and slowly began to light up the darkness of the car. It wasn't a pure light, however. Darkness masked its edges and the room glowed like fog lit by the moon. Out of him rose the faint gray fog which dispersed into the air, but she could feel a small breeze blowing it her direction. When the tainted air reached her, she realized it was the musky scent which so changed her.
"What are you doing?" she breathed as the scent surrounded her. It twisted around her arms and legs, and climbed up along her breasts as though trying to touch every part of her. As delicious as it was, she didn't want it. Not now, not ever again. "Stop it."
"As I told you before, I have little control over him now," he replied. His voice was more of an animalistic growl than a human sound. "There's nothing either of us can do to stop it." In the darkness she could see he was hunched over and breathing fast. "The only thing we can do is enjoy it."
Sam tried to fight the fog but her mind became befuddled as before. Her tight clothes stretched even further as her breath quickened. Her hands clenched the cushions beneath her as her shirt bulged out. Her breasts swelled and her hips burst out as the seams on her clothes stretched to the breaking point. The effects were much faster than before as sweat broke out over her entire body.
The stitches on her clothes finally burst as her shirt buttons began popping out. Her breasts were revealed as they strained against the last confines of her bra, the likes of which had become merely a stretched piece of cloth barely covering her tits. She felt her legs stretch out and lengthen and her arms grew longer. They better matched her proportions as she heard her skirt rip and tear open on one side, revealing a slit of her wet thigh.
This was almost too much for her. She had to do something.
"S-sir," she stuttered out. Her voice was sultry and heavy with need as she glanced over at her lover.
His eyes were firmly fastened on her as his hands gripped the front of the seat. He was panting now and his tie and coat had been dispensed with. His white shirt was stretched against his muscles and was transparent from all the sweat covering his abs.
He had a feral look in his eyes as he looked her up and down. There was nothing human in them.
"W-we can't," she weakly protested, but her words were followed by a deep groan from herself as her panties softly wedged up between her folds.
"We must," he murmured.