What happened next was even more sickening and disturbing. Tom began to treat her like a normal person, ignoring all he had done and even teasing her.
From the second they got out of the shower to when they shared her big bed, he kept acting normal. Just like a boyfriend would do, he didn't even fuck before sleeping.
A textbook case of manipulation. However, as the catboy slept on her chest, Celene couldn't avoid feeling her heart racing and blushing.
Tom, for his part, was just happy to finally rest in a comfortable bed after so many years. He would love to sleep as much as he wanted, but the cat needed to wake up early because there was a lot to do.
Having stolen clothes from Celene. Tom was now dressed in an oversized red hoodie, a pair of black yoga pants, and a tank top that was too tight for him. The dark grey fabric was almost like a layer of paint over his well-toned abs and biceps. He would prefer something different, but the girl was lacking in the decent pants department and non-slutty clothes.
("I don't know how she manages to deal with the cold,") He thought while sitting at the woman's computer after using it and just breaching her personal space by looking at her email, bank details, etc.
"I left all you need to do on that paper. Just to make it clear, send the video of last night to fulfill your quota, and then quit. If your boss says anything to you, tell them to talk to me. You are under my protection now," Tom said to her with a dry and matter-of-fact tone while leaving a huge note on her desk and heading outside.
Celene, who was still limping from last night, took another sip from her coffee mug and looked at the note. "What is with this list?!" She yelled, adjusting her glass just to check if she had misread something.
"There are things you need to buy. I am going to register as a super; meanwhile, get me that stuff," he answered and looked over his shoulder toward Celene.
"I got the drone, but a 3D printer? All those tools? And why so many metal tubes?" Celene asked again while sitting in the chair still warm from Tom.
Tom was about to go, but he wanted to double-check something important. Don't forget the primers and shells; I need them to craft bullets," he answered, his tone annoyingly casual.
"Bullets?! Did you look at my bank account? We can't afford that," the girl yelled and shoved herself up from the chair and went to stop him from leaving. This was too much even for her.
Tom turned around and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I did, but this is a workaround for the price. The big taxes are on bullets, not their materials; if you make them yourself, you can save a lot of money," he explained with a calm tone and a smug smile.
"But that is more illegal than killing someone. Oh right, you are a super now," Celene answered and slapped her forehead.
"Yep, I know. Anyway, see you for lunch. Get everything on the list aaaaaaaaaaaand, I want chicken parm with guacamole; make sure that is breast and not thighs," he ordered, his eyes wandering to her bare belly and wide hips for a second. It felt strangely comfortable being such a demanding bastard; it was a fresh sensation in this new type of relationship.
"Avocado? At this time of the year?!" Celene barked at him, not used to being the one having to simp all over the place.
"That sounds like a you problem," he finally said and pointed two finger guns at her before leaving the building.
Tom stepped on the bus and pulled out a small plastic rectangle from his pocket. "Veteran discount," he said to the driver while the air inside the vehicle suddenly felt incredibly tense.
"Super . . . ride for free," he mumbled while his gaze was fixed on the road in front of him, not making eye contact with the feline.
He nodded. "Oh, neat," Tom said, as he could already see people treating him ironically similar to when he was a hobo. Keeping a healthy distance from him, making their kids stay quiet, and trying to ignore his presence, but less from disgust and more from pure fear.
The Superhuman Licensing & Regulation Bureau looked less like a government facility and more like a fortress. A brutalist structure of concrete with sharp gray edges and a lack of windows, where the only detail of color was the golden letters on the outside.
Tom opened the glass door and walked inside as the sound of pure chaos struck his refined and mutant senses. The stench of cheap coffee and bleach hit him like the hammer last night.
He approached the front desk, where a middle-aged woman was waiting for him. The same middle-aged woman was clearing the floors, walking behind the desk with a pile of papers, and on the roof, changing a fluorescent tube. "Welcome to Stalwart's City SLRB. How can I help you?" She asked with a fake, almost plastic smile.
The catboy closed his eyes for a second; clones were not something strange to him, but just thinking about the appearance of that thing he had in front of him made his head hurt. Even trying to analyze what her hair color struck him with a strange sensation of dread. His aphantasia struck him as the double-edge sword it was. He was unable to fill the gaps on the woman's face.
"I came to register," Tom said, his gaze lowering and looking at the glass deck just to not see that thing's face.
She nodded. "Excellent, please take a seat, and we will call you. Can I get your alias or name?" The woman asked with an almost mechanical tone.
"Just Tom," he added, and then quickly walked away and sat on a row of blue plastic chairs to wait for his turn. However, he was the only one waiting.
Sitting to his side, there was something. It had the shape of a person, two legs, two arms, a torso, and a head, but the texture was different; it was like someone had grown a wasp nest around a corpse. In its lap, there was this cat-sized worm coiled into a circle.
This thing was strange, a black creature with chitin plates and an elongated body with dozens of tiny legs under it. However, what really caught Tom's attention was its head, a stretched teardrop narrowing near the snout that was less insect-like and more similar to an eel. It almost looked like some kind of helmet since the thing didn't have any visible eyes or nose, just that mouth filled with sharp teeths.
"So . . . first time here?" Tom asked, trying to make some small talk with that thing.
The worm raised its head and pointed to him. "Ye-yes! Sorry, I am not . . . used to talking . . ." she mumbled with a strangely feminine and high-pitched tone.
"Don't worry, cutie, it is my first time here too. I am Tom," the cat answered with a small smile on his lips.
She shook for a second and then nodded. "Alexis . . . I see you got an animal pack . . . " Alexis said while using her tiny legs to cover her strange face.
He chuckled. "Yep, not the craziest stuff, but useful. What about you?" Tom asked; he would be damned if he didn't ask about her whole package.
"Yes . . . I got hit by a truck and reincarnated as a worm with an alien devouring system . . . I finally managed to get in here after a month," the worm girl explained, her words coming out of her mouth extremely fast, almost as if she had practiced that sentence for days.
"And who is your friend?" He asked again and pointed at a humanoid thing holding her over its light brown lap.
She shook her head. "It is my corpse; I turned it into a hive. . ." Alexis muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
He crossed his legs and rested his back on the seat. "Neat. So, did you live in the streets for some time?" Tom asked, moving the topic from something that evidently made her uncomfortable.
"I had to eat trash . . . bugs . . . assimilate their powers . . . it was hard . . . " she confessed, looked at the cat, and let out a deep sigh, surprisingly since Tom didn't expect her to have lungs.
He shook his head. "No need to explain that to me. I was a hobo for, like, three years," the catboy said and looked at her.
"Sorry to hear that!" Alexis quickly apologized and lowered her head.
He quickly extended a palm to her. "Why? We are trash pals. From the dumps to a success!" Tom exclaimed, waiting to get a high five from her but only getting a small headbutt.
". . . trash pals . . . that sounds nice . . ." She mumbled and then coiled herself again. However, the conversation was quickly interrupted by a loud ring followed by a mechanical voice saying. "Tom, please enter room 16."
"Well, it seems that it is my turn. If you ever need a skull to lay your eggs in, my head has more than enough free space," Tom said while getting up and winking at her. It was normal for cats to eat bugs, and this was no exception.
She was taken aback by the catboy flirting with her, frozen and unable to move an inch as he slowly walked away. "Ca-can I get your phone number?! I want to talk again if you are not too busy," Alexis whimpered like a wounded dog.
"Oh my, I am not even registered, and a cute girl is already asking for my autograph? Sure, here you go," Tom purred, took a pen from one of the nearby desks, and wrote Celene's phone number on the hive's chest.
The worm froze up as the catboy was basically writing on her tits, her corpse tits, but still, it was something that took her by surprise. Dating was the last thing that she had thought of in her current state, but it was not unwelcome.
"See you later, Alexis!" Tom finally said and blew a kiss toward her.