Cona continued to pound on the door, growing more desperate as minutes ticked by. She gripped onto the doorframe, her back straining, her legs feeling as though they would give out beneath her. She was just so tight, so heavy. She didn’t think that she could hold out for much longer. And Rogers wasn’t even home. Cona was so distraught, she felt that she might cry. She was out of options. Cona bowed her head. Her situation was hopeless.
There was a clicking noise of the lock turning. Cona slowly raised her head as the door opened slightly. And to her overwhelming relief, Rogers’ face appeared in the crack.
“Rogers!” Cona cried breathlessly.
The door opened more, and as Rogers took in her physique, his face drained of color. Cona could barely hold herself upright by then, and Rogers quickly collected his composure. He opened his door fully, and stepped aside. “Come in, come in,” he said in a hushed voice.
Cona staggered forward, her belly scraping against either side of the doorframe, she was so large. “Where?” she gasped out, desperate for somewhere to ease her mass down.
Rogers had gone back to staring at her, a stunned expression on his face. He lightly shook himself. “To the lab,” he said, taking her arm, helping guide her, despite the uncertainty he continued to wear on his face. He escorted Cona down a corridor to a private lab he had. There, he lowered a mechanical lab table, and Cona eased her body down against the padded surface. She was so relieved to be off her feet and yet as she looked down at herself, she couldn’t imagine how she had been upright in the first place.
Rogers pressed a button on the side of the lab table, and it slowly elevated, to about the height of his waist.
Sitting upright, the mass of her belly was resting between legs, perched on the table, and pushing up her breasts. Her belly was swollen massive, truly massive, and Cona knew that she would have serious mobility issues if it grew an inch larger.
“Rogers, when we got separated, I think I was...infected by something. It’s inside of me. I don’t know what to do.” Cona’s voice wavered with emotion. “I’m afraid I might r-rupture. It’s getting so tight in there.”
Unlike Brad, Rogers was not one to be affected with emotional attachment. He silenced her with a wave of his hand and proceeded to examine her, pressing his hands all over Cona’s plump belly, even as it quavered with her silent sobs. He didn’t bother to examine the rest of her—explore why her skin was a green hue, why she was developing extra breasts, or even the subtle bulge in the groin of her pants. Her belly was the most pressing matter, and so it had all of his attention for the time being.
Rogers left her side only for a moment, returning shortly with a device that Cona recognized—it was an ultra-sensitized sonogram machine of Rogers’ creation. It was so powerful, it could determine the contents of food in someone’s digestive tract if Rogers so chose.
He squirted her belly with gel and began to press the mound with the wand, rubbing her all over as a picture developed on the computer monitor beside the table. As expected, Cona saw tentacles. But not just two or three—it was an endless blob of appendages compacted inside of her. Cona covered her mouth. It twisted and turned, and was absolutely stuffing her.
As if this wasn’t enough, Rogers continued the sonogram, as though he was looking for more. Cona could spot round masses here and there—it took her a while to realize they were eggs. And within the throbbing mass of tentacles, was a completely different figure. It was bigger, gentler, and…humanoid. It resembled a baby, perhaps seven months along. But that wasn’t even possible. Cona hadn’t been pregnant.
Cona was stunned. Her mind shifted to Brad. Was it his? Was that what his seed had been used for? Was it a regular human child, or would it be more like the tentacle creature? Would it be like her?
It was all just so bizarre that she could barely digest it. Feeling her eyes moisten, Cona covered her face with her hand. “What’s going to happen to me?” she said weakly. She grunted as her mass tightened. She rubbed the side of it, breathing as it slowly relaxed.
“I don’t know,” Rogers admitted, continuing to gaze at the screen. “Cona I really…don’t know.”
Cona choked back a sob. She fumbled for her purse for a moment. Rogers assisted, placing it into her trembling hands. Cona opened it, and pulled out a rounded object. She held it up for Rogers. It largely resembled the sample the two had originally discovered at the site of the meteor landing, only it was bigger, about the size of a grapefruit.
“Remember the object we found? Well ap-parrently, it was an egg,” Cona stammered out. “I think I unintentionally imp-pregnated m-myself with it…somehow…I’m n-not quite sure. But since then, I must have b-birthed about t-twenty more of these things. Some are in my apartment. Some are at Brad’s. Some are even in the lake by the old mill. P-promise me you’ll find them all. They have to be d-destroyed.” She lowered the egg to Rogers’ hands, her belly heaving up and down with her heavy breathing.
“Cona...” said Rogers.
“I k-know I should have done it myself. I guess I didn’t have the courage to. But I should have. What if this is the start of something terrible?”
There was a cracking noise. Both Cona and Roger’s eyes darted down to the egg clasped in the palm of Rogers’ hand. A crack had formed on the surface. The egg trembled.
Cona grunted as her breasts suddenly tightened, her upper nipples seeping a pale green fluid, as her lower breasts surged in growth, pushing the upper ones higher. “Nnnghhhhhh...” Cona clutched her chest as both pairs of breasts bloated up in great bouts of growth.
And finally, the egg broke open. Cona and Rogers found that they could do little more than stare.