Deadly Newborn (Open) Sept 20, 2020 11:40:20 GMT -6
Post by Genon on Sept 20, 2020 11:40:20 GMT -6
South City Park
There had been a string of unexplained murders popping up around South City. Clothing was left behind in the position the victim may have died in. One victim was face down in their living room; a second was folded over the bath tub; and a third was pajamas found in bed next to the grieving spouse. Skin cells recovered from the clothing indicated that they were worn before the victim disappeared, but there were no signs of the victim removing the clothing prior to vanishing. The vanishing happened while they were still wearing their clothes! Because there were so few victims, the city hadn’t been entirely disturbed. Earthlings continued to watch their web videos, date online, and worry about celebrity news. Life resumed as though those lives didn’t even matter.
It wasn’t easy being an escaped bioweapon in a city. Mainly because there were more miniscule power sources than there were large ones. However, Genon had plenty of food to stave off its appetite. The grub was taking a nice stroll on a Sunday. It had found its way into a baby crib that the clueless Mom was pushing along, while holding her cellphone between her shoulder and cheek. She had been talking for over thirty minutes to her girlfriend. Brittany was her name.
After a nice feeding, Genon was stretched out on its back as round as a ball park hot dog and wearing a white newborn onesie and bonnet. Its head was rested back upon a pillow. Its multiple prolegs folded comfortably over its tummy as the clouds passed overhead. It was so nice and the human had been too dumb to notice. She was too distracted with her phone to even realize what had happened. Genon figured he would ride along for a few minutes longer before he would find a new mobile home.
The mother was preparing a bottle of formula, shaking it around as she continued to chat:
“No; Cameron (her son) hasn’t got his teeth yet. He’s still on formula at least for a few more weeks,” she said. “He’s being a good boy right now. I couldn’t get him to stop crying no matter what I did. I would rock him for a bit, but then as soon as I would put him back in his crib, he would scream his head off.”
After shaking the bottle, she walked around the front of the crib and held the bottle toward the grub’s face. Genon stared at the bottle of milk before raising its feet to hold it.
“That’s my little man,” the mother cooed. She scratched its chubby belly with her manicured finger and returned back behind the stroller to resume pushing it.
Genon stared at the container of sloshing white cream, its round eyes squinting at it suspiciously. It parted its maw to bite the end of the bottle as cool milk gushed into it. It didn’t taste too bad. Riding in a crib on a sunny day with a bottle of liquid food, it was a dream come true. If only its prey came in liquid form and could have been fed to it in a bottle.