Tess

“Come on, spread your legs and your hole, and beg me to put it in. Act like a proper Omega.”

The leader’s excitement pounded in his ears. With each vile word he spat out, the scent of potent synthetic pheromones mixed in. Iliya couldn’t resist the nausea that naturally rose. Yet his body craved that scent. Like an animal in heat, he rubbed his buttocks against the man behind him.

“Argh!”

Iliya struggled. He wanted to stop his involuntarily moving body, even if it meant cutting off his own arms and legs.

“This is why everyone keeps talking about Omegas, right?”

The leader’s excited voice nakedly revealed his pleasure in conquest. If synthetic pheromones were this powerful, how strong must real Alpha pheromones be? There was more vivid enjoyment in this than with drugged women whose minds were hazy.

“Leader, please…”

“What, please do it to you? Well, you’re already so wet and soaked.”

“No, ah, aaaah!”

Iliya’s scream was muffled by the leader’s hand. One hand covered his mouth while the other pressed his head down, forcing entry below. Despite the use of drugs, it was his first time. The monstrous intrusion into the forcibly opened space made it impossible to breathe.

‘Nancy, did you really see heaven? Really? Is this the gate of hell you spoke of?’

With each thrust of the leader’s dick, Iliya’s body betrayed his will and responded. No, he wasn’t even sure if he had any will left. Tears continued to flow into his mouth as moans escaped uncontrollably. It tasted salty.

*

*

5 AM. As the alarm clock announced the wake-up time, the leader ejaculated one final time and withdrew his dick. Iliya couldn’t move from the position where he had been pinned. The cheap pheromone and the pungent smell of semen mixed together, filling the enclosed space. The leader roughly wiped between his thighs with a wet towel and tucked his dick back into his underwear.

Needing to create the appearance of having conducted purification all night, he left his disheveled clothing as it was and kept his hair damp with sweat. Satisfied with his perfect image, he patted Iliya’s cheek. The semen he had ejaculated inside dribbled out.

“Don’t worry about pregnancy. I’m not an Alpha.”

As he said, he only imitated with drugs and wasn’t an Alpha, so there was no possibility of pregnancy. That’s why the leader deliberately ejaculated inside. He didn’t use contraception with women either, but occasionally used withdrawal or morning-after pills. Of course, without their knowledge. While building his kingdom with children of his seed was enjoyable, the women who easily became pregnant sometimes irritated him. In that sense, Iliya was the ideal partner. A slave who would never get pregnant, would absolutely obey him, and could be handled however he pleased.

His sadistic nature emerged. Thinking there was no need to be gentle, he treated him more roughly.

“You’d better talk to your bride properly. Otherwise, I’ll expose the fact that you’re an Omega.”

Iliya’s empty eyes trembled slightly at those words. The leader enjoyed this reaction.

“That bitch has as much potential as you. Usually virgins don’t feel that good at first, but her moans pierced the heavens. Good thing I soundproofed the place. You’d better not have other thoughts. What could you do outside this place? You’d probably live as a prostitute. What would your father think? That guy might tear you to death. Right?”

Iliya shook his head. Please, anything but that…

The leader giggled vulgarly and waved the medicine bottle in front of Iliya’s eyes.

“If you don’t want to be discovered, you’ll have to come to me every day. Otherwise, your heat cycle will come.”

The more Iliya’s face contorted with despair, the more the leader felt absolute power. It truly felt as if God’s authority was in his hands.

*

*

Between two people dressed casually but exuding wealth sat a man with shaggy hair, dirty beard, wearing a wrinkled checkered shirt and pants with holes, likely unwashed for some time. The man extended a business card to Rus.

“Though treated as third-rate media, a journalist is still a journalist.”

Rus alternately looked at the cynical man and his business card. Having followed his father into journalism, the man had failed to enter mainstream media. Rus suspected his father’s affairs were connected to this reason.

“Breaking this story will get you immediate attention. It’s an exclusive scoop.”

Andrew handed the man content he had prepared in advance. After reading it, the man raised the corner of his mouth crookedly.

“But why trust me with such a proposal?”

“If we couldn’t trust you, we wouldn’t have come here.”

“You’re quite confident.”

“Don’t you trust us enough to meet in person?”

“I can see right through your side, so not really.”

The man shrugged toward Andrew.

“For me, it’s about restoring my father’s honor – a personal reason. If you’re using it for political purposes, it’s a win-win, so I don’t mind. But I don’t understand this one’s intentions. He doesn’t seem like the type to maintain loyalty between friends.”

Andrew responded, “Ha, quite perceptive,” agreeing with the man.

“Let’s just say it’s to satisfy my curiosity.”

The man wasn’t entirely satisfied with Rus’s answer but soon spoke as if it didn’t matter.

“Well, I can’t understand the minds of the rich. I just need to receive support and achieve my goal, so I don’t care if you have other intentions.”

Andrew handed the man a thick envelope. It contained money and a contract. The content stated that even if something happened to him, he wouldn’t hold the other party responsible. The man skimmed through the paper and signed it.

“Then, shall we begin our operation?”

As Andrew shook hands with the man, his face filled with expectation, Rus observed them like a third party. Though his eyes were on them, his mind kept returning to Iliya. He wondered how they would react if they knew this all started from something so trivial. History often begins with insignificant events, but he had no intention of revealing this to them.

*

The next day, an article from an online news outlet suddenly became a hot topic. The case that had been fading from people’s memories resurfaced because it leveraged the name of Rus Briane. The journalist included the exact name “Holy Church” in the title.

In fact, there was nothing new in the content. While previous articles had vaguely framed it as a conflict between alphas and ordinary people, the new article described in detail the banner and tendencies of the organization called the Holy Church. The content was subtly biased, but when the word “terrorism” was added to the fanatical behavior of a young girl, people’s fear grew. Concerns arose that they might become radical like the KKK in the past.

The journalist added suspicions from past Holy Church incidents. And finally, he dropped the bombshell that Rus Briane was filing a lawsuit against a Holy Church believer.

Reactions increased rapidly to that final line. Andrew posted the article on social media. This served as evidence that the article wasn’t entirely false. Everyone was on edge about whether Rus Briane would actually file a lawsuit. Those with suspicious connections to the Holy Church began moving hurriedly. Andrew secretly kept a close eye on them. When photos of Rus entering the police station spread, reactions peaked. Public opinion demanding an investigation into the Holy Church began to grow.

*

*

Iliya opened his eyes at the voice calling him. His body, soaked in sweat, wouldn’t move, as if his limbs were bound. It wasn’t just his body that wouldn’t move. Even when he tried to move his lips, they remained sealed as if someone had stitched them shut. Swish. A hand like a dried branch reached toward his chest and grabbed his neck tightly. A cloud-like form writhed on the ceiling. Drip. A drop of water fell from it. Mrs. Rollins. She was looking down at him from within the black mist.

Pale lips and black eyes. Blood tears flowed from her eyes. Drip. That blood fell on his chest again. Drip, drip. Pit-pat. The drops of blood that fell little by little eventually became rain and soaked the entire room. He tried to make a sound, but her hand gripped his throat, preventing any noise.

The reproachful tone pierced his ears like a knife. That resentment continued to repeat, repeat, and repeat. All voices pointed fingers at him.

That malice turned into worms and burrowed into his flesh. Consumed him. The sound of thousands of worms scuttling covered his body.

“Stop it now! Stop! I said stop!”

Iliya shook his head in disgust. The eyes he thought were open suddenly snapped open again.

“Haa, haa…”