He staggered to move and get off the floor. He lifted his body, but it only came as a shuddering gasp that left him feeling weak and helpless. It was also the same position that he last saw Nagumo, right as the young man died.
He could hear a woman sobbing nearby. She would have had a pleasant voice, if she wasn't crying while obviously dialing on a cellphone.
Ozaki groaned as he clawed at the ground. With every movement, the sparkling heat inside him blossomed until there were sharp points spreading out from his joints. He felt his skin rip as spikes appeared. He resisted at first, fighting the agony, but then he realized that it was pushing back the pain of his crushed ribs and broken bones.
The burning heat twisted his body. He felt his body swelling inside the thin shell of his skin which rapidly grew harder with every passing second. Pain passed into a dull ache as he slammed his claws into the wooden floor of some store and pulled himself up.
He felt huge, swollen, powerful. It was like nothing he had ever encountered before. The computer tables around him were tiny, barely knee high, and he looked around in surprise. Everything was tiny and he was too close to the ceiling.
His eyes felt too far apart as he looked down, then did a double take when he saw a pair of clawed feet. The legs and feet were covered in a green carapace and there were foot-lone claws sticking out of each one.
Ozaki flexed his right foot and the claw responded. A surge of power rolled through his body and he shuddered. He felt muscles in his back play and a spiked tail sailed across his vision before silently snapping like a whip and sliding back out of view. He could feel is moving with every twitch of his back and spine.
Breathing hard, he brought up his hands and marveled at the clawed pawed that he now had. They were steady, huge, and powerful. He could feel the strength in his new form.
He looked up at the woman standing outside of the story. She wore a pleated skirt that had ridden up her ass to reveal tight globes of her buttocks and thigh-highs of white stockings. A yellow thong nestled in the crack of her ass, highlighting a nearly perfect view of a woman.
“Answer… Hurry up and answer!” she said in a cry. Her back was to him.
Ozaki took a step forward. His tail swirled in front of him, barely under his control. It coiled between him and her and relaxed. His tail, much of his body actually, appeared to be made of segmented carapace. There were thick pieces on his thighs and individual segments to his tail. The tip of the slithering limb was a long spike about a foot long and as smooth as glass. But then it quickly became segmented hooks that looked like a combination of barbed wire and some torture device.
As he watched, the woman's shoulders began to shake. Her head, topped with a long flowing brow, tilted toward him as she raised her cellphone.
His eyes shifted to her car. It was still running with his bike underneath the grill. Both were totaled.
The sight of his ruined bike filled him with rage. With a speed that he could only imagine in the boxing ring, he surged forward and grabbed her hand and cellphone. He twisted her around to face him and yanked up until she was staring straight at him.
Tears ran down from her blue eyes, rolling against her cheeks. Her position, hands above her head, forced her breasts to rise up and hard nipples to tip through the yellow fabric of her top.
He looked down her body, enjoying the sight of her quivering body, hard nipples, and dangling legs. But, she had ruined his bike and the bitch had to die.
With a snarl, Ozaki surged forward to tear out her throat.
She screamed, a high-pitched noise.
And then memories came crashing into him, of him masturbating on his bed so many years ago as a beautiful woman danced on the screen in front of him. Of the cries she made while he watched the VHS tape for years until it finally snapped under the stress. Her voice was as painfully familiar as an unrequited love that was lost under the onslaught of tumors, boxing, and life.
He froze, only centimeters from her throat. He could feel the pulse of her heart, a rapid beat like a song. Drawing back, he pulled her face to his.
She was sobbing, crying out at the top of her lungs. Tears ran down from her blue eyes, but he ignored them. With his tail, he cupped her chin and forced her to look to one side and the other.
The woman looked just like Kikuchi Harumi, the Fallen Idol. Even the cute nose that he used to sigh over.
Other memories came rushing up, of the hatred he felt for her betrayal. She had gotten into porn and then disappeared, leaving his heart an empty, ragged hole. He snarled and snapped at her.
She cried out again and tried to look away, but he used his tail to keep her staring at him.
He didn't think it was possible. She had been missing for years. There were no more videos, no more appearances. The world had forgotten her. To his horror, he realized he had forgotten her also until this moment.
She looked exactly like Harumi. She sounded like her.
But, Ozaki wasn't sure. He lifted her completely off the ground and peered at her breasts and thighs. They were just as familiar, but he wasn't going to leave anything to chance. He had seen her naked in his videos. He knew every inch of her body. If she wasn't Harumi, then the fucking bitch was going to have a very short, painful life.
Using his other hand, he reached up and dug his claws into the collar of her sweater.
She screamed out and kicked him. Her high heels slammed into his thigh, but he didn't feel the impact.
With his demonic strength, Ozaki tore the front of her sweater. The fabric parted easily from his strength and her firm, breasts jumped into her view. He continued down, using the backs of his claws to avoid slicing into her belly. He stopped right at her skirt, but used his claw to hook her yellow thong. He yanked up and it was sliced from her pussy.
She screamed out and tried to free her hands, but he increased his grip until her bones creaked. Her scream became a high-pitched wail.
Ozaki looked down at her trembling body. It was nearly perfect, even after two years. She had Harumi's taut belly and swell of her breasts. Her thong was even Harumi's trademark yellow and he remembered masturbating to the sight of them. But now, they were two dangling shreds of clothes and her pussy was only centimeters from his claws. Her nether lips were already swollen with anticipation.
He took a deep breath and caught the scent of her pussy in the air. It was mixed in with her fear, but the sweetness was like ambrosia. Years of fucking nameless women were blasted away with the possibility that he was about to get her. He was about to have Harumi.
His cock grew instantly with his thoughts. He wasn't surprise to see it was segmented, with deep ridges and a spiked tip. But, it was also sensitive. He could feel the breeze on it and every pulse of his cock as he stared down it. It knew what he wanted, but he wanted to be absolutely sure.