Something New Under The Sun (Closed for Annisthyrienne)

Fort McMurray is a small city atop a lot of pressure. A heaven in northern Alberta, with all hell for a basement some have said. And said quite well, the oil and gas boom keeping it one of the most profitable places in the world for almost thirty years. New technology brings Crude bitumen to the surface in ever increasing ways. More and More barrels a day to satisfy men's greed. Not a thought to how it affects nature around them.

THAI is a new process. Creating a horizontal path, and burrowing, to applying a flame directly through. Starting at the Toe of the Well, and sparking the oil top create a vertical wall of flame, rushing forward upgrading the bitumen as it goes, and forcing the gusher out at the heel. At much higher levels than normal. It's supposed to be clean. Supposed to be safe. But as anyone could tell you, igniting a massive firewall directly in an oil sand can be dangerous.

BEEEERRRRRNNNNNNN!!!
BEEEERRRRRNNNNNNN!!!
BEEEERRRRRNNNNNNN!!!

Long wails sounded from a H2S Detector, The beginning of a mass evacuation. Bad enough that Hydrogen-2 Sulphide would knock you out and literally make your central nervous system shut down, in high enough levels it was explosive. And they'd just set a massive flame-wave rolling the length of the cavern. Emergency systems shouted, and extinguishing chemicals went off. The length of the cavern looking like it might split itself open as the shift started. The normally heavy and impossibly thick bitumen and oil sands, starting to collapse as it's body heated. The turn from hard molasses, to syrup starting right before a petrified crews eyes. they ran. The alarms blaring, and Ethan Moreau woke and rose to readiness. His controlled air supply already being battered on. Four minutes to mount his rescue if he could make one at all. And Six to retrieve a corpse. He ran right into the fire, Hell for a basement indeed.

Something was wrong. She couldn't tell what, exactly. But her sense of something being awry was nearly overwhelming.

She'd come here to find the thermal vent her mother's counselors had divined must exist, having sensed the heat with their spells. Those few that had accompanied her were already lying in their crumpled forms around the cavern. There had been no vent. When they'd climbed to this chamber, their bewilderment had made them pause. Just then the great 'whump' throbbed through the chamber, the very rock walls, ceiling, and floor trembling with it. It was followed by the rush and roar that seemed to come from far away and yet everywhere at once.

Her beloved Cardanig, most loyal of her males had turned to her, seeking instruction from his princess. All the thralls looked to her for guidance, and why not? They were only males, after all. Their purpose was protection, labor, and at times, the mating pleasures that were a function of their anatomy.

But they were not expected to lead, or to solve the problems faced among their society. That was for her and her Sisters, the matriarchs of the Drow race, to deal with. It was the fairer gender's role as protector and caretaker that had brought Ysenduryll to this place with them, seeking the thermal vent that could provide energy for her people. And it was those roles that made her hesitate to flee, even as her thralls dropped around her without explanation. She couldn't just leave them; she was their princess.

She couldn't seem to think clearly. Her head throbbed and hurt. A foul smell permeated the air. Her delicately pointed ears seemed to rush with the sound of her blood, and then a sudden pop of a pressure wave was all the warning she had before the deluge swept her off her feet. She was carried swiftly to the far end of the chamber by the rush of the cold water, slamming her stunningly hard into the rock.

Her body was wedged in a fissure that had opened to a chamber above, even as the ceiling shifted and began to collapse at the farther end of the cavern where she had stood only moments before. It seemed to pour down from above like a syrup, black and gritty, and soon buried her companions irretrievably. The cold flood poured away just as quickly as it came, leaving her gasping, but only for a few breaths before her head swam and her vision faded to a darkness not even the gentle glow of her soaked and tattered gown could relieve.

An almost gentle sifting of the oily sand dribbled down to coat her, mixing with the remaining water almost kindly to warm where the water had chilled. The chamber had filled to her level, forming a new floor as the thick oily sands cooled. Only a small scrap of her lichen silk gown still glowed weakly in the darkness.

Ethan ran, his limber legs moving him swiftly despite the 40 pound cylinder he was wearing. He counted backwards as he ran. Trying his best to conserve the precious air he had. No matter how much he thought he had, breathing too hard could turn a 45 minute cylinder into a ten. And he'd perform no rescues if he joined the incapacitated. The plan, always the plan. Two hundred.

Evacuation was complete, Alarms were everywhere, situation had been Assessed, and he was Protected. Now where was the victim to Rescue?

The chamber looked destroyed, the deluge of the safety water dump had washed away most of the sediment. 30 million in damages, all self caused. His tester beeped, and he looked at it, noting the fallen Oilsands. Most of it looked recoverable, though the heaters were toast. There was a glow though. The faintest of light coming from an uncovered patch. His radio was dead. But his mind wasn't. "Twenty seconds."

He went for it. Pulling at the dying light until it came away in his hand and revealed more. It was moss? A plant of some form, dying and brittle. almost like ash. But there was oil covered flesh, behind it. Dark as night, a hand. Slick and covered. He pulled and a body came to him. A woman? He pulled taking her away as the lake bed of Oilsands began to suck at him, down into the escape hatch and alone there, began to take tar like scraps from her face, for air.

Black skin greeted him, almost pure black, was she burned? No she was exactly that dark. No matter she needed to breathe. And Now.

He inflated her lungs, his own breath burning as he covered her nostrils and tilted her chin. Lips touched and he passed life into her lungs, and for a moment the world stopped. This was not a test dummy. She was a real living woman, and more, His lips tasted oil, and grit, almost like tar, and her. he stopped and was shocked to know only a second and not a year had passed. He went to breathe again when she breathed back. Weak thready, but breath. He place her on a rebreather, and lifted her. Her small body hardly more inconvenience than his canister, and left walking for the sick bay. He'd do paperwork on why a strange woman was in the tunnels later. For now, her life was the most important thing in the world.

He moved further into the darkness of the tunnel. His footsteps plodding heavily as he counted. Damage to skin, damage to lungs, all the worst things running through his head. It had already stained her skin as far as he could tell, so he ran on. Stopping only to try and brush oil from her face, keeping it from her mouth or her nose, keep her breathing. it was almost automatic, check, clear, continue. Step by step. What was this woman doing here? it was hard to tell really but there was a softness to her lips, a length to her hair under the sticky Tar Sands Oil. Thankfully cooled by the massive deluge of the emergency system. Had she been spelunking? in the middle of an extraction process? was there some tunnel they weren't aware of? So rock climbers wet dream that brought them right through this? and if so where was her gear? He could see that she had no goggles. There were no pools rising from plastic. He couldn't feel rope bulging from her hips, he could hardly feel anything on her hips. Simply slick oil and skin. The crumble of something like moss. But no moss grew here. Nothing grew under Tar Sands. The hospital tent was close. he was the only one on shift for the next week. The worst time for this kind of disaster. Simply him to run doctor for the entire camp, and he was barely a paramedic.

His arms ached as he set her atop his table. The filth of waterlogged sand and raw bitumen raining over his floor. Like cold molasses, sticky and impossible to clean. unless you dealt with it every day. With third degree burns caused by dumb rig pigs, or simply hands peeled raw by the impatient. Ice. And baby oil. It was a she. Her face proved it. Round perfect, dark. she was black? No she was dark, deep. Almost black, almost purple. For a moment he worried that she had bruised severely in her falls, but her skin was unblemished ebony. Slowly revealed to him bit by bit. The softest scrubs he could make, and baby oil to wash her hair before it set. It was filthy, but slowly it washed clean. Ivory, in contrast to her skin. The simplest contrast, as her shock white hair set off her face. She was lovely. She was gorgeous. She was still unconscious and covered in what would eventually be at least a health hazard, at worst a brick.

So he scrubbed, Gentle, applying baby oil where ever he could. Leaving her smooth, shimmering in the artificial white light.uncovering her body by inches. An impossible body. Pointed ears. The top lobe, a thin shaved point. The Bottom lobe different, thinner. Tighter. The outer bone less pronounced. Making her face smoother by mere degrees. More ovaled instead of round. Like a model. Her lips the palest change of shade from her skin. Almost naturally blue it seemed. He wanted to kiss them.

Her breasts huge. And her shoulders seeming to not notice their weight. They were enormous. Dark. Thick nipples darker than night, without aerolae the buds reacting to touch as he gently cleaned them. Did her breathing quicken? were they sensitive? So many questions to ask her. he knew it was wrong to spend this time. Cleaning if he was not groping. But the organs were here, and none seemed damaged. In fact there was not a mark on two gorgeous sloping hills of flesh.

He stepped back and swallowed as he looked at her from the waist up. Her stomach seeming taut as he dropped a third brush. Her navel the perfect space for a jewel. Her body a crafted statement. she seemed so small. 5 foot and very little change. If there were two inches more to her he would be surprised. She was beautiful. So beautiful... so he covered her. The sacrifice of yet another towel as he lay her body down and worked. Leaving it as loosely ties as he could Sarong style behind her neck. Modesty. It only made him ache more. this had been a long 18 days.

On her front he regarded her back. Pulling patches from her skin. Gentle as he could manage but perhaps not gentle enough. She moaned, and stirred. Too weak it seemed to thrash, as he tried to calm her.

She swam in a sea of disorientation. There was no up, no down, no direction to go to fight to the surface when the blackness was endless, formless. Still she struggled as it poured over her, enveloping her in it's sticky, inky, clutching blackness. Not the soft blackness of her skin, not the warmth of the touches she'd enjoyed from her favorite thrall. This was not so pleasant. It burned. It weighed her down, gritty and smothering. It covered her completely.

And the stench; everywhere, filling her lungs, pungent and cloying, making her head ache and clogging her mouth and her nose. She couldn't breath, couldn't think......and couldn't struggle anymore as the darkness claimed her. Her last thought was that she would die with her thralls, her males. And no one would ever know how she met her end.

********

She emerged from the grey, nondescript depths of oblivion to the feeling of warm wetness on her skin. Her head throbbed painfully, a horrific pressure behind her eyes. She struggled to recall the last thing she could remember, but the hazy, vague images and sensations only confused her. Nothing made any sense. She couldn't remember who she was, or how she got here. She moaned as her muscles twitched; the sensation of her skin being peeled from her body searing her mind. She came fully awake then, with a scream of protest, anger, anguish, and hurt all mixed together.

She jerked suddenly in reaction, reaching out to grab at her tormentor, no doubt a demon of the afterlife who even now tried to torture her. Her eyelids snapped open and she whimpered as the blinding light stabbed her in the eyes. She closed them again tightly, covering them with one hand. Her other hand flailed at nothing, only making contact with the one who was flaying her skin by sheer accident. She had moved before fully realizing the pain it would cause her, and her skin burned in agony. She hissed in protest, a loud shriek that rent the stillness of the room and echoed off the sterile walls. When the searing hot pain lanced through her, she gasped and winced, collapsing back onto the surface she lay upon, panting for breath.

But that first brief contact had been enough.

Glimpses; impressions of concern, curiosity, and ultimately benevolence flooded her mind as her empathy sense kicked in to fill in the missing details her consciousness craved. This was no demon who tormented her. He regretted causing her pain.

Slowly this time, she opened her eyes again, keeping her hand over her brow, hooding the sensitive orbs from the intense brightness as she blinked in confusion and panic, looking around to take in her surroundings and evaluate her situation. She was in a strange kind of chamber, filled with bright illumination, but not coming softly from the walls like the pale green glow of the subterranean lichen she was used to. This glaring light reflected from all surfaces, and when she tried to roll over, she discovered the source above her, painfully, as her overwhelmed irises flashed blood red, the tapetum lucidum shining the light back crimson through the blood in her retina. She closed her eyes tightly again, her ears serving her now instead as she turned her head towards the gently soothing tones of a male voice.

She tried again to see the person belonging to this voice. Through barely cracked lids lined with the finest ivory lashes she saw the blurry outline of a face. But it couldn't be. So pale, so angular, and the strange being was reaching for her....

Ethan's hand stopped and he watched her. Frightened obviously, and here he was. Standing over her. Naked. With all her sexual attributes exposed in a strange place with a strange man. She didn't know he was a doctor. He started to speak when he stopped. Her eyes were red. It was the first thing he noticed when they opened. Frighteningly so, almost like they were filled with fresh blood, But they lidded, and they stayed squinted. Like the light hurt. And why wouldn't it he realized, her skin, so black could become that way underground. If it was never exposed to natural light, It might evolve as a survival feature. She might be too close to the heat of the core, she could be a million things. But most importantly the incredibly bright light in the Medical office was causing her pain. He reached for a hybrid light the kind they gave as mini torches to all the workers, some cheap but effective thing from CostCo, with a magnet on the bottom and stuck it so the lamp end would only display her legs Her legs that needed to be worked upon and soon. He placed another that would put small illumination upon him. So she would know where he was. Then the lights went out. It was almost frightening for a moment. The old instincts to fear what you don't know, who you don't know and the dark. Where she would clearly have the advantage.

"It's darker now. If you can understand me, I'm not taking any pleasure in hurting you. Or embarrassing you. I feel ashamed to have done so."

He stopped and slapped his wrist. "Ashamed." He looked away from her, just for a second. Before bringing his eyes up again. A second time he slapped his wrist aiming for the forearm where the sound would carry. Before he looked away purposefully. Then slowly and with purpose, thinking how or if she spoke English at all, and how he could help calm her. His hand reached out again, to start near her feet. Small, so small. Was she a size 5? And gently peel a small strip off her. Then another. Watching her face. Shadowed and waiting.

"Sorry"

Another Strip Longer, up her shin.

"Sorry"

Another. His fingers working hard to soothe her legs after, as her skin pulled with the almost tar like substance. That poor beautiful woman, in and out of consciousness. His thoughts on how to help her integrate. Could she work? Did she? An actual dweller under neath. A new race, and new person. What would she speak? Who could he ask for help? The thought chilled him. he couldn't ask anyone. This was a multibillion dollar project. getting it shut down would be like handing the girl a death sentence, and likely an attack on the very earth they lived in. Halliburton and Suncor were not the most friendly of giant conglomerates.

She was clean. Mostly, and his hands were now busy smoothing Aloe lotion into her legs. Stopping short of that mysterious space near her pelvis, that darkened corner just out of light. But his hands could not resist skipping. Trailing. Touching her stomach before stopping. Her breasts. Her body.

"If you prefer I'll just leave the bottle and go find you some clothes. You probably want to cover up."

Ethan walked out of the light to find a set of scrubs. they would not be much but it would be something. And took his eyes from her completely for the first time since he had picked her up. But she was still the first thought in his mind.

She was effectively blind until the lights went out. When she sensed the darkness envelope her like a long lost friend, she risked opening her eyes again. She sat up on the odd bed she had been lying on; the strange small fuzzy sheet dropping away from her body as she propped herself up with her hands just behind her, revealing her large breasts unabashedly. The movement aggravated the throbbing in her head, and a moment of strong vertigo made her sink back to rest on her elbows instead.

At least the darkness soothed her vision. With only two small pools of light, she was able to see the strange being approaching her. His voice was low, soothing as he spoke to calm her. Of course she didn't know his words, but she could sense his intentions were not threatening to her. She regarded him with open curiosity, her head tilting to one side quizzically as he spoke. Her gaze traveled down his body, noting with interest the strange clothing he wore.

Then her attention was snapped back upwards as he struck himself suddenly. She jerked in surprised reaction, flinching as if struck herself. Her eyes, now the silver shade of the full moon in the softer light, widened to stare at him. As she watched, he looked away, then back again, then slapped his arm, making a louder sound. She jumped again. What was he doing, she wondered. Did he dare strike her next?

His manner did not suggest that was his intention, but she watched him warily as he reached for her leg. Now her focus expanded to include the black tarry goop that clung to her legs. She was about to reach to touch it when he peeled a strip of it off, bringing a hiss of protest to her lips as it stung her skin. So this was the skin flaying she had felt before!

The pain was unpleasant, but not too much to bear, and as he peeled another strip of the black sticky stuff from her legs, she winced but resisted the urge to kick out at him. Her dark fingers clenched into the strange bed she laid upon, digging their pointed tips into the leathery feeling cushion, leaving behind four little punctures.

Another strip, and yet another; each time making her stiffen and glare at this pale demon. And yet she sensed he was only trying to help her. He regretted hurting her, but sensing more than his basic feelings was impossible. Too many thoughts that were alien to her raced through his mind. She did not know what a Haliburton was, nor why the beast would attack the earth. She could tell his thoughts were of her, of where she came from. He was curious about her, but as she thought about the questions, she realized she did not know the answers any more than he did.

Where was she? What is this place? How did she get here? Where did she come from? The answers eluded her, so tantalizingly close to the borders of her memory, yet just beyond. But her bewilderment served to distract her from the stinging pain that he caused by peeling the sticky black substance from her legs. Before she had any real answers to her questions, she felt the cool relief of the healing potion he rubbed on her skin. Her eyes were drawn back to his face, watching the tender expression he showed as his hands moved soothingly over her skin. Her dusky lips turned upwards, inspired by the pleasant, pleasurable sensations spreading through her. A flash of memory seared through her consciousness. Other hands, dark ones, rubbing soothing oils into her skin, relaxing tired muscles. A luxury. Tender care lavished upon her by devoted thralls. Was this creature one such?

Her pleasure expressed itself in a soft moan, breathless, nearly a whisper, but it seemed loud in the quiet darkened room. Her silver eyes snapped up to meet his as he glanced up at the sound. She was smiling, conveying her approval of the way he touched her. Then her eyes dropped to follow his hands, touching and caressing her tenderly, seemingly innocent touches, but she knew his thoughts. He was curious about her, but also interested. And spreading the healing potion wasn't his only purpose in touching her. Her eyes lifted to watch his face, noting the expression and intensity there as his hands skipped from her legs to her belly, then to her breasts, lingering there for a pregnant moment.

Surprising images flashed upon her consciousness. A pale alien shaft plunging between her dark orbs, sliding repeatedly. Pearlescent fluid ejecting from him, shining and glistening on her skin. Intense pleasure and relief.

The vision was over in an instant, but the desire was clear. It was still written in his features; in the heated look he gave her before turning away. The corners of her lips turned up in the slightest of knowing smiles as a sparkle of triumph shone in her eyes.

Again he spoke to her in his language. His words were foreign and she understood none of them. But she understood his intention. He wanted her to cover up with clothing. He was embarrassed about touching her so intimately. He stepped out of the circle of light, but she had no trouble following his movements in the dark. What was darkness to him was still plenty light enough for her to see by.

He opened a rectangular hole in the wall, making part of the rock swing outwards like a door. It was impossibly thin, and made hardly any sound as it swung out. She marveled at its construction and slipped from the odd little bed for a closer look. A quick intake of breath sounded from her as her feet hit the impossibly smooth stone floor, pleasantly cool on her tender feet. The wave of dizziness hit her hard, and her knees nearly buckled. She grasped the cushion of the strange little bed. Steadying herself for a moment before she stood up fully, she took a tentative step.

But as much as she wanted to marvel at the strange hole he reached into, her movement brought to her attention the sticky black substance still clinging between her legs. He hadn't peeled away what had clung between her thighs and in the tender area between her legs. She bent over, examining herself, one hand reaching down in front, the other reaching around from behind as her legs spread in a slight squat. Her pointed fingers probed and dug at her groin, working to get an edge to hold of the sticky substance. She realized that it was permeated through the remaining shreds of her lichen shift, which even now was crumbling and disintegrating, coming away in little pieces instead of clean strips.

She worked several small patches loose and let them drop to the floor, totally unaware of the lewd display her posture provided. She lifted her triangular shaped protective vaginal flap so her nimble fingers could reach past to the thick fine patch of ivory white fur between her vaginal and anal openings. Now the patch was sticky and snarled with the remnants of her tar imbedded undergarment. As she plucked and dug at her contaminated fur patch, a whimper of pain and frustration slipped from her. She couldn't see well enough around her large breasts, swaying slightly from her chest with her agitated movements, to be able to clean herself the way she needed to.

She was so intent on her difficulties that she didn't notice the approach of the pale demon behind her.