Chapter 019 Hold me, just… hold me
It is still hot - Do not read it while you are at work.
Letter to my readers
Hello everyone,
Dear Readers,
Thank you for joining me on this journey into a world where mystery, danger, and unexpected connections intertwine. In today’s chapter, we’ve seen Lazarus, Gina, and their curious companion Asha makes an interesting entrance —and as always, emotions run vivid and raw.
And now I am writing a spicier version for my Patreon
Warmly,
Kater Murr
“Now,” she said, voice low and teasing, “do you still want me to stop?”
For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. My mind flared with memories I had long buried—heat crawling along my spine.
“G… that’s…” I choked, caught between fear and fascination.
Her gaze held mine, unwavering, almost scientific. “Do I make you… uncomfortable?”
Chapter 019 Hold me, just… hold me
My head felt like it was about to explode as G47 walked slowly toward me, completely naked. She stopped just half a foot away and repeated her question in a soft whisper.
“Do I make you… uncomfortable?”
My throat locked, words refusing to come, even as heat roared through me like a wildfire I hadn’t felt in decades.
G47 tilted her head with an impish smile, studying me as if I were an intriguing science experiment. The sun slipped behind a cloud, and her bare skin faintly glowed in the dim light. For a moment, I thought she might press her angelic body against me, pushing me beyond the point of no return.
Instead, she lifted her warm hand and placed it flat against my chest. “Your heart,” she whispered. “It’s racing.”
She gently traced the hair on my chest. “I like it.” Then she bent over and whispered in my ear, “And I heard what you said last night.”
Her breath tickled my ear, sending electric currents down my spine. My throat tightened; every nerve coiled tight as a bowstring.
I forced myself to whisper, “What did you hear?”
She bit her lip. “That it was quite a compliment. I’ve never been called the perfect woman.”
No wonder, I thought. Locked away with thousands of women and no men, how could she know? But looking at her now—her quick mind, her unguarded warmth, the way her body glowed in the dim light—she felt closer to that perfection than anyone I had ever known.
She studied me with that same impish tilt of her head. “I think we might make a good team in the future. What do you think?”
I gave a short laugh, more air than sound. “You don’t know me that well.”
Her eyes narrowed, amused. “Then tell me—what should I know?”
I hesitated, searching for words, then shook my head. “I’m not as perfect as you think. And teaming up with me might not be as safe as you imagine.”
For once, she didn’t tease back. Instead, she leaned in just close enough for her shoulder to brush mine, her voice softer. “Safe isn’t what I’m looking for. Now, tell me about this place.”
I took a deep breath. “You know this town as Kelsey. About 125 years ago, my late boss, Dr. Chen, gathered the smartest minds of their time here to form a think tank—tasked with preventing a disaster humanity was drifting toward.”
Her brow furrowed. “Disaster?”
I nodded slowly. “A pandemic. It spread faster than anyone expected. Ninety-nine percent of humanity vanished in just weeks. The sleeping experiment here in Kelsey was meant to be the lifeboat, but…” My throat tightened. “Even lifeboats can sink.”
She was quiet for a long moment, her hand resting lightly on my chest. “So you woke up here… all alone?”
“The others who took part in Chen’s sleep experiment are dead. My only companions now are the AIs, Al and Asha. I started repairing machines, patching systems. Then I discovered your Dome and began watching—at first from a distance, then gradually closer.”
I feared she might recoil when I admitted watching them from the shadows. Instead, she leaned closer, her forehead brushing mine. Her voice was barely a whisper. “You were alone? All that time?”
I sensed that the idea of such loneliness shocked her. She shook her head slightly. “I can’t imagine what that feels like. In the Dome… we’re never truly alone.”
Her words held no accusation—only wonder.
I let out a rough breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “At first, it was unbearable. Silence everywhere. No footsteps in the hallways, no voices, no laughter. Just me and the hum of reawakened machines.” I swallowed hard. “Even now, sometimes the quiet feels louder than a scream.”
Her hand traced slowly from my chest to my shoulder—a simple touch anchoring me in the moment. “And still, you kept going,” she murmured. “That makes you stronger than you think.”
I felt the tension inside me loosen, like frost thawing under a weak sun. Even though she was naked, I felt safe with her.
“If I were truly strong,” I said, voice low, “I wouldn’t be here. I’m just a lucky man.”
Her smile was small and bright. “Lucky,” she repeated, testing the word as if it were new and delicious. “Lucky people deserve… what? To share luck?” Her fingers found my hand and squeezed once, sure and warm.
“What do you want to do?” she asked.
I let my gaze drift to the window. Vegetation had swallowed most of the landscape during my long sleep—green fingers curling over rust and stone. “Get more of the machines running. Find out how humanity—how everyone—went silent. Hopefully… find someone else who’s left.” My last words came softer, almost a wish.
I didn’t feel like telling her about L14, Dr. Xia, his clone experiments—or the doubts tugging at me, the suspicion that someone darker had helped bring the disaster. Right now, I was with a wonderful woman; I didn’t want to ruin this moment.
Her eyes lit with something like purpose. “Then we will do it together,” she said calmly. “Teach me what you can. I’m a computer technician, and life in the Dome was boring. This place—exploring, discovering old secrets—that’s my kind of fun. And with a mythical creature.”
“Which mythical creature?” I asked.
“You.” She grinned, all mischief and earnestness.
“Please don’t say I’m your unicorn.”
“My what?”
“A mythical creature from old stories. A horse-like animal with a single horn on its forehead.”
I paused just long enough for her smile to spread. “Some said the horn symbolized… something else.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Oh.”
“By the way, how about getting dressed again?”
“Sure—after you tell me what you want to do today.”
I grinned, tempted to mention how old tales painted unicorns resting their heads in virgins’ laps. But maybe that image could wait.
“I thought about checking which of the labs could be restored, maybe digging up some files.”
She tilted her head, watching me with that grin that made everything sound less mundane. “Always work first.”
“Well, I doubt the unicorns left me any shortcuts.”
“Yes. And no coffee for you, that’s for sure.” I let out a breath.
“Oh, afraid?” Her smile turned devilish—then she suddenly pulled me into a hug, pressing her warm, yielding breasts firmly against my chest.
“Don’t be afraid, my unicorn,” she whispered, her lips grazing my ear. “One day, I’ll make sure you know exactly how it feels to rest your head right here…” She gave the faintest squeeze, letting the promise linger between us. “I can wait… but not forever.”
Then, just as abruptly, she let me go and slipped into her morning coat, leaving me stunned and breathless, my brain utterly short-circuited.
“When do you want to go?” she said casually.
“When you’re dressed, Gina,” I answered, still breathless.
She blinked, then smiled slowly. “Gina? I like that. How did you come up with it?”
“Ever heard of Gina Lollobrigida?”
She shook her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “No… was she important?”
“Famous,” I said. “An actress. Back in the old world, people thought she was one of the most beautiful women alive.”
Her grin deepened into something more intimate as she leaned just a fraction closer. “And you gave me her name…” Her eyes held mine, daring. “Are you saying you see me that way?”
I swallowed, my voice dropping lower than I intended. “Closer than anyone I’ve met.”
She stood to get her leotard.
“Wait,” I said, rising as well. “I think I’ve got something for you.”
I went to the corner and picked up the bag I’d set aside yesterday, a little proud of my foresight.
“I hope it fits,” I said, handing it over. “You can’t go exploring outside in just a leotard.”
She peeked inside, and her smile spread as she pulled out a pair of snug jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and a denim jacket.
“Ohhh…” She held the jeans up against her hips, arching an eyebrow. “Tight, huh? Did you pick these because they’re practical… or because you wanted to see me in them?”
Heat crept up my neck. “Both.”
Her laugh was light and low, curling around me like smoke. She draped the T-shirt over her chest and turned in a half-circle. “So? Think this will pass for normal clothes in your world?”
I found my mouth dry. “They’ll look… perfect. On you.”
Her grin turned wicked as she folded the jacket over one arm. “Careful, unicorn. If you keep looking at me like that, I might never get dressed at all.”
“There,” she said, tugging the jacket into place. “Now I’m ready. So, unicorn—where do we explore first?”
“One second. Al, would you mind if I ask why you were so quiet the whole time?”
“I thought I’d leave you lovebirds alone,” he replied, his tone drier than sand. “But don’t forget—I’m the one who kept you alive all these months. While you two… bond, I’m still running diagnostics and watching for threats.”
Gina tilted her head, amused. “Are you… jealous?”
“Not jealous,” Al said quickly. “Just… cautious. I’d hate for your unicorn to get distracted and end up dead because his heart was racing for the wrong reasons.”
She laughed, the sound bubbling up brightly. “I like him. He’s protective.”
“Overprotective,” I muttered.
“Call it what you want,” Al said. “But someone around here has to keep both feet on the ground. And unicorn isn’t exactly known for his focus.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Al, stop calling me unicorn, please.”“Noted,” Al replied smoothly. “Would you prefer mythical distraction? Or perhaps horned hazard?”
Gina doubled over laughing, clutching her side. “Oh no,” she gasped. “Don’t you dare stop him now.”
I smiled. “We need to get to it—some exploring, some work. Maybe we can find that lost equipment you’re always talking about.”
Gina’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Finally. A quest. I was starting to wonder if all you did out here was brood and give dramatic speeches.”
Al chimed in at once. “Correction: he also stares wistfully out of windows.”
I shook my head, trying not to grin. “Both of you are going to make this unbearable.”
“Or unforgettable,” Gina countered, slipping her arm through mine with playful insistence. “Show me these ruins of yours, unicorn.”
“Al,” I warned.
“Noted,” he said, though I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “And take the green box with you, so I can stay in contact.”
We took the lift to Dr. Chen’s old office. Gina was amazed at how clean the office looked.
Gina—still Gina now, not just G47—was already at the boxes before I could warn her. She lifted a lid and froze, fingers hovering over a stack of faded photographs.
“That’s… interesting. And odd,” she said, her voice carrying that bright, curious edge again. “All these girls in the pictures look like the clones in the Dome.”
I came up beside her, my throat thick with emotion. The photos were glossy with age: joyful laughter caught for eternity, bright eyes in spring light. Faces I’d only ever seen as numbers.
“Yes,” I said, the answer dropping out of me small and raw. “They were the originals.” The word felt heavy—human, irreducible. “People who volunteered or were asked… I don’t know all the details anymore.”
Gina traced one photograph with a fingertip. “So they made copies of them? Kept their faces? Their… selves?” Her question was gentle, bewildered.
“I don’t know the entire story, but one scientist—a Dr. Xia—seemed to have his own plans for continuing humanity in case that…” I let the word hang in the air.
“He was looking for ‘perfect’ girls—not only pretty but also very smart.”
“Was he only looking for girls? Not boys, too?”
I gave a bitter laugh, without a trace of humor. “No. I guess he didn’t like boys.”
I suspected Dr. Xia might have wanted to create a harem of pretty clones for himself. But I kept that thought to myself, not wanting to burden her with it.
The silence that followed pressed down on the room. Gina lowered the photo back into the box, her hand lingering on it as if she wanted to protect the girl in the picture from what she now knew.
“Then the Dome…” she whispered, almost to herself. “We’ve been living in someone’s experiment.”
Seeing her so devastated made something inside me harden and soften at once. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around her.
“You don’t have to carry that alone,” I said, my voice low. “I was someone’s experiment, too. I know how it feels—like being measured, tested, catalogued. It strips you down until you forget you ever had a choice.”
She pressed her face into my chest, the photo crumpling slightly under her fingers. A quiet, racked sob escaped her, small and human. When she lifted her head, her eyes were wet but steadier.
“You too?” she asked, incredulous yet calm all at once. “You—Lazarus?” Her voice wavered as the name touched something new between us.
I swallowed. “Yes. Chen saved me but also used me for his experiments. He gave me a life—and a debt—and I learned to live with it. But I never stopped wondering who decides who gets to be human and who gets cut down to a specimen.” I took a deep breath.
“I guess I was very lucky when Dr. Chen recognized my talents besides my special blood type. But his last message warned me—the experiments are not over.”
She let out a breath that might have been a laugh if it weren’t so raw. “We’re both more and less,” she whispered, and there was something like solidarity in her admission.
“Then let’s finish making ourselves,” I said, surprising even myself with the steadiness in my voice. “Let’s find more files. Find the truths. Who built the Dome, who filled it with clones, and for what reason.”
She nodded, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. The set of her mouth hardened into resolve. “Show me everything you have. I want to help.”
“We start with the buildings down the road on the left. I’m looking for the main archive, where I hope to find more traces tied to Dr. Xia, and more. One step at a time.”
Her fingers curled around mine. “One step at a time,” she echoed.
“Ready to go, Gina?”
“Ready, uni… Lazarus.”
We took the green box and headed to the kitchen to grab some food for our first brief excursion.
As we stepped through the door, Asha was already waiting for us.
“Hi, Lazarus! Hi…” Asha tilted her head, as if trying to recognize someone.
“Gina,” I finished for her.
Asha, a small cat-like creature, climbed up my jacket and perched on my shoulder as we walked, her claws gently gripping the fabric. She leaned in close, her mouth almost touching my ear.
“She looks good,” she whispered, her cat-eyes glinting mischievously. “Is she your mate?”
I let out a short laugh, half surprise, half something warmer. “Not my mate,” I murmured back. “Not yet. But… the company I always wished for.”
Gina turned, catching our voices, and a sly smile tugged at her mouth. “Why… thank you, Lazarus. Asha, do you mean mate as in… mating?”
“Of course,” Asha said without hesitation. “You would have wonderful offspring. Asha knows many romantic places for—”
My face went hot. “No. Not you too, Asha.”
“…the lake is wonderful at this time,” she finished innocently, tilting her head as if she couldn’t understand what the fuss was about.
Gina’s laugh spilled into the overgrown street, light and contagious. I shook my head, but a reluctant grin betrayed me.
Then Asha added matter-of-factly, “First catch fish… then maybe eat cat?”
“Stop!” I cut her off, heat rushing to my face. “Too much information.”
Gina’s brows shot up, then she bit her lip, trying to smother a grin. “Eat cat, huh? That’s… a bold move.”
I groaned. “No, that’s not—she means catfish, the animal, the actual—”
Gina laughed so hard she nearly stumbled, the sound bouncing off the crumbling walls.
Meanwhile, Asha blinked at us both, utterly puzzled. “What is funny? Asha is hungry.”
Just as Gina wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, a sudden, sharp crack echoed from deep within the ruins—a sound too deliberate to be collapse or decay.
We froze, the lightness vanishing instantly, hearts pounding in sync.
“Did you hear that?” Gina whispered, eyes wide with alarm.
Before I could answer, a shadow detached itself from the darkness beyond the broken doorway—tall, slow, and unmistakably human.
Al hissed softly in my ear, “We’re not alone.”
Previous episodes:
Very nice 🙂