The Murder of Jason Woodrue

"We're making the final modifications right now, and you'll have a flawless supersoldier sent out, by overnight mail…"

Of course, this was the last thing that Jason Woodrue said to the man on the other line, before distraction got the better of him. As she rose, her plants carrying her upward, their strength combined a moment of impure pride for their "Mother", she was flying upward. As she moved, the pheromones practically exploded from her body, and the signal was as such that it radiated through a long strand of ivy reaching out of this dark hole. And that chemical reaction caused a mass release of the pheromones from the ivy as well, and when it came, it came in the form of a powerful, gaseous magenta light. The light swelled in her eyes as she breathed in the smell, and she basked in the self-gratifying glory that it brought.

And then, she expelled. She burst through the thick layer of ivy that had covered her grave, and as she broken through, she sighed with delight. To feel her children scraping down her arms like that was something of a defining moment. She breathed the fresh air above her plants brought her right into the lab where her false life had ended. The plant held her at bay, their strength for the Mother not daring to come close to failing her.

Her first truly welcoming sight within the dim carcass of her lab was Woodrue, standing there speechless as he beheld her. She saw him drop to his knees, his crazed white and black tuft of hair glistening in the pink light as the pheromones overwhelmed him. She smiled, closing her eyes and beginning the act. She stretched out her arms and moved her curves ever so seductively, like a swaying branch in a soft wind, and she moaned. It had always been common knowledge that a sensual moan of positive approval to arousment worked wonders for a man's infatuation, raising blood pressure levels by 50%, in some cases.

"D-Dr. Isley?" His voice was weak was he said it, but this acknowledgment only made her happier. His voice suggested disconnection. The first stage of the fear element, that being unsure.

She responded to him not with words, but with an inquiring moan. Like a woman awaking from a deep sleep, asking her lover to repeat himself without words.

"Pamela?" Oh this was too easy. He was eating right into the salad. Now, for the dressing.

"Um-hm," she offered him, and the tone of her voice suggested a desire to be naughty. She opened her eyes, looking down at him. How fitting that he should be there, where he belonged. Below her. But she wanted her sprawled across the floor, a corpse of a man. Even as he knelt she could still see the activity happening within the confines of her slacks. There was no subtlety as to the mindless effect she had over him. The pheromones were everywhere, and he was never going to leave this room again. The floating spores sealed his death warrant.

"You look great…especially for a dead woman!" She raised her eyebrow. Was that supposed to be his attempt at comedy? No… no, not comedy. Assurance. It was all in phycology. Jokes could put one into a state of relaxation, even build up for lack of security. The second stage of fear, then: shielding. Well, enough contemplation. The heat of the plan was overwhelming her and she had to kill soon. The sooner she killed, the sooner she could stimulate herself and end the torment within.

"Hello, Jason," she almost whispered to him, her voice calm and collected. "I think I've had a change of heart…or quite, literally." It was so hard, not to laugh. He looked so dumbstruck. The animal was actually crawling on his knees towards her, staring up at her with such reverence…with such worship… "The animal plant toxins had a rather unique effect on me." She raised one of her vine wrapped arms to show him. What was this new smell? Something was mixing in with the pheromones. Was it coming from him? "They replaced my blood with aloe…" There it was! She saw his eyes widen, only slightly, of course, but still affirmed nonetheless. The third stage and final stage: fear. Absolute fear. But the pheromones kept him coming for her, and she absolutely loved his infatuation. Come on…just a bit closer… The hemotoxin upon her lips was burning, ever so slightly. It was as if it knew he was coming, and that it was going to get to claim a life… "My skin was chlorophyll…"

She reached down and grabbed his face, pulling him upward. The fear had set in finely now. His lips were trembling and he looked scared, and she could hear the smallest guttural sounds emitting from his mouth. It sounded as if he were already choking on the venom. But that was fixing to come. Be patient for a few more seconds, Jason…

"And filled…" Her heart broke, but with happiness. "…my lips…" His lips were so close now. She could smell his foul breath. He had recently drunk something alcoholic in nature, perhaps as a celebratory recognition for his achievement over Antonio Diego… she must simply take that joy away now. She forced her lips against his now, the French of her kiss overwhelming his gums as tongue lashed against tongue. She closed her eyes for a moment, opening them slowly as sweet satisfaction overcame her senses. She focused all of her energy now upon the poison that coated her lips, and…yes! She could feel it! A small, hot bubbling. The faintest sizzling noise. Her poison was working its magic. To keep him enticed, she forced herself forward, against his hardness. That drove him beyond his limits. Woodrue's mind and body began to snap in unison, and she could feeling. He was dying in her arms!

She pulled back, aroused at what she had just did. But she had to break it to him now. "…with venom…" She smiled at him, relishing the idea of his reaction. And as she had predicted, his face suddenly shifted. In a moment, all happiness turned to terror, as his eyes widened. The smallest noise emitted from his mouth again, but this time, it sounded as if he were struggling for breath. She had to play with him some more.

"Oh, and Jason, one other thing." She snorted, but silently. "I probably should have mentioned this earlier." He was gagging, choking to death on the hemotixin that she had given him. She saw his tongue stick out for a moment as he opened his mouth wide, letting out a loud, strange sort of belching sound. It had turned green, a powerful shade testament to the toxicity of her kiss. Her heart broke again, and she almost cried with the happiness that took her. She truly was, without a doubt… "I'm…poison." She prodded him with her finger, hard. Timber, she thought. Jason Woodrue let out on last noise, something that sounded like balloon's helium released, a sort of soft, gentle scream as poison corroded his throat, and she watched him, her skin on edge, as Jason Woodrue fell backward, hitting the floor hard. Saw his eyes glazed over, and his body stop jerking. Dead. Stone dead.