Brought to Heel Ch. 03

There was a sense of satisfaction in having figured out one way to vastly improve the security of his site, even if he couldn't tell anyone exactly why he'd decided to change all the doors back to manual locks. It made it a little more difficult to request the funding, since it went over the normal site running costs, but he was sure if he cited concerns following Epsilon-1 being completely lost, his request would be granted. The first thing he was going to do with the funds was change the lock on the door to the security room.

Still Conall couldn't shake the feeling that there was more he could do, and more he could find out from the Epsilon-1 security videos. He wasn't exactly sure what, but there was more to it.

Of course, he had emailed Eon again that next day to thank them again, and say that the videos had already given him some valuable information. He quirked an eyebrow at how they complimented him on his diligence in their reply, but it was harmless (if a bit weird) for them to praise his efforts in securing Phi-2, so Conall let it slide. Instead he turned the conversation back to the safety of discussing music and movies. It was something else to occupy his mind with, other than his worries and thoughts of the footage he had watched.

It was a few more days before Conall felt like he had the energy after work to go back to the videos. He checked back on his notes for the timestamp of when all the metahumans were released, and then he dithered about which area to choose to look at.

He wasn't sure what he was hoping to find, since it seemed the locks disengaging was the instigating incident, but maybe he would get ideas for updating the Phi-2 containment breach response plan. There would have to be contingencies put in place for if site comms went down, too... Maybe walkie-talkies in the offices for each area? God, it was a lot to think about.

He ended up looking at the security recordings for several of the common areas of the site. He supposed he should approach it systematically - first those in one section, then the other. He had started with Area Alpha, so he might as well look at the videos from the break rooms and halls there first. He wrote down the areas he wanted to check, crossing off the hallway he had already looked at.

A brief look at the next hallway showed nothing interesting right at the time the cell doors opened. A few minutes after, the former containment subjects emerged, surprising whoever was in the hall at the time. It was pretty much the same as the other hallway in the previous video he'd watched, as well as the outcome. Conall noted one researcher booking it down the hall away from the emerging metahumans. He followed their progress into the next hallway, switching videos to keep track of them, and watched them dart in the door to one of the employee break rooms.

Curious, he found the video for that break room and clicked into it, forwarding to the time the researcher arrived. The researcher burst in, shut and locked the door behind them, and babbled to the other staff members about what happened in between taking ragged breaths.

So if the door was locked and there were no metahumans in there, nobody in the break room looked affected by any transformations, and presumably similar scenarios had occurred elsewhere in the site... How come Conall hadn't heard of anyone who waited out the containment breach and escaped? Watching what happened there might give some insight as to why there weren't any 'survivors' who remained untransformed.

Conall watched as the staff went through various levels of panic, some whipping out their phones to contact coworkers they were worried about. People could surprise you; some didn't seem perturbed at all, while others looked about ready to faint. One said they might as well unlock the door and get it over with rather than waiting around, and they were quickly overruled. Another threatened to go out with a chair and fight the metahumans off so the rest could escape. Conall had to laugh when that noble offer of self-sacrifice was met with a "this isn't a zombie movie, dumbass". It was interesting to watch, even if nothing much was happening for him to take notes on.

About a half hour in, one of the staff members commented that there was a sweet scent coming from somewhere. Some of the staff said they couldn't smell anything, while a few others agreed with him and searched around for the source before stopping in front of the vents for the ventilation system. The man who first mentioned it looked confused, but not worried by it, and shrugged and leaned back against the wall under the vent to listen to everyone else bickering over what to do about the situation outside. The others who mentioned noticing the smell too didn't stray far from it either, Conall noted. It might be nothing, but, well, it might actually be important. Hard to tell at that point.

He fast-forwarded in ten minute increments, seeing if anything else had happened each time he stopped and played the video. The first real sign he noticed of anything unusual was people near the vents loosening their ties and shirt collars, and starting to shuck off lab coats and other top layers. Some complained about feeling hot, while everyone else told them they were imagining it.

Another ten minutes, and there was a couple standing up against the wall who were speaking very closely, too low to hear, and getting so far into each other's personal space it was astounding nobody had commented. Wait - yes, now they were making out. Against the wall of the breakroom in the middle of an outright containment breach. If that didn't count as strange behaviour, nothing did.

Conall skipped forward five more minutes to see the two from earlier were practically grinding on each other. More layers of clothing had been shed by the staff closest to the vents, and a few of them were also getting very well acquainted, in a way that made Conall's cheeks heat up while watching it unfold. There was some sort of metahuman contamination in the vents, then - or an aphrodisiac, or something. It was weird that it didn't affect everyone in there. At that point some of the others had expressed annoyance or incredulity at their colleagues who were making out in the middle of a crisis situation. No, it seemed like only those close to the vents were affected.

Well, that meant he would need to see if he could find some evidence of tampering with the ventilation system in the other videos, Conall supposed. Which would take ages to narrow down, considering the vents sprawled through the whole site. He sighed and noted it down on his to-do list.

After ten more minutes, the staff members near the vent were mostly half naked and touching each other and themselves in distinctly lascivious ways, apparently completely unbothered by the rest of the staff who were freaking out about it a little bit. Someone had lined the chairs across the room to form an impromptu barrier between affected and unaffected staff, as ineffectual as that would be if the affected staff were interested in anything aside from feeling each other up. Conall shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat as he observed them. Some of those affected were looking distinctly fuzzy at this point with fur in patches, one had curling horns developing, another few looked like they were growing leaves.

Conall had a feeling he knew what was up with that, even if he didn't understand why they started transforming without direct contact. When he skipped forward again, his suspicions were confirmed. The horned one had become a satyr or faun of some sort, the leafy ones were dryads, there were a bunch of bee people humping each other in a corner. Vines had even started sprawling down from the vent itself. Somehow, impossibly, grass and plants were starting to grow from the cracks in the linoleum on the vent side of the room. It was fae faction influence, no question of that. Though he was confused as to why the newly created fae metahumans hadn't made any advances towards the rest, who were still hunkering down on the other side of the chair barrier.

He did note a few of the staff members were missing, though the door still seemed secure. After a bit of skipping back and forth through the footage, he discovered a group had decided to up and leave at around the same time as the chair barrier had been put in place. That seemed a bit reckless to him as decisions went, but - he supposed stress, unexpected circumstances, and seeing your goat-legged former coworker jack off in front of you would do that. Conall wrote down the timestamp, in case he wanted to see what happened to the group, even if the answer to that would be 'ensnared or allured by metahumans into becoming one of them' in all likelihood. It was still important data, probably.

Conall ended up watching the developments in the staff room for another few minutes, waiting to see what might happen to the remaining untransformed staff, as well as observing in a sort of apprehensive fascination as the new fae blithely fell into an orgy while their side of the room gradually terraformed itself towards something more suited to their new forms. He was hit with the feeling that they were being fools at best to try and categorise their subjects according to the rules of science - this was magic, the supernatural, myth made flesh. None of the creatures in the security footage would have seemed out of place in the works of Ovid or Homer or any of the numerous other myths and legends handed down from the ancient world.

That unsettling feeling was what snapped him out of watching at last. He shook his head to clear it. Yet another reason why it was baffling for Orpheus to recruit and then promote all the way up to Site Director somebody who had studied Classics, for goodness' sake. He'd really never had a scientific mind, though he tried his best at researcher level, where the knowledge had occasionally come in handy - whenever a metahuman arrived who looked like something straight from one of the myths he knew. Conall knew he was a bit prone to flights of fancy, not so organised, not so objective. Not exactly the qualities needed for leading a secret research facility. God, why hadn't he just studied music and joined an orchestra or something. He probably would have been happier that way.

He shut off his laptop and put it away, then fussed restlessly over his CD collection to try and calm his mind and certain other parts which had taken an interest in what he'd seen. It made him feel guilty, responding like that. So he deliberately recalled the scene in the security room, and the twisted shape made of wires there that one of the security guards had become. He shuddered. That at least made the slight flush he'd been feeling vanish like a bucket of ice water had been chucked on him. But he was still restless, and apprehensive over the task he'd given himself, and couldn't seem to settle on the music which would help him shake that feeling.

He tried watching one of the movies Eon had recommended, but couldn't really settle down and focus on it. In the end, he reorganised his CD collection via year of composition of the pieces instead of name of composer, which would be a little less convenient for picking out one quickly, but it made him feel like he had done something, enough for him to get ready for the next day afterwards and then for bed. It took him longer than usual to sleep that night, with his thoughts looping like a dog chasing its tail. At least he managed to avoid picturing the things he had seen on the video that day.

-

The next day dragged more than usual, courtesy of his poor sleep. It must have been obvious on his face, because on his way back from lunch Marcy mentioned that she could reschedule some of his meetings and appointments until the next day if he wanted. Conall gratefully agreed, relieved that he wouldn't have to focus through another hour of dull but administratively vital meetings. It was hard enough to hold back from shaking his legs through those when he wasn't exhausted.

If Marcy had been in his situation she probably would have figured out what to do about the site's security vulnerabilities already. With how capable she was, sometimes Conall wondered why she was secretary and he was site director, when she almost certainly would have done a better job. He supposed he bluffed too well in the internal interviews and just happened to be around at the right time to get the promotion. That and hiring bias, probably. Even if Orpheus did its best as an organisation to counteract such unconscious biases - they had still allowed him to bumble his way into a position he didn't feel remotely qualified for.

There were probably more than a dozen people working in Phi-2 alone who were better suited for being responsible for an entire site's worth of staff. Since he had somehow bluffed his way into the position, though, he had to live up to the responsibility he'd been given. After this crisis was over, and he was sure that Phi-2's security and emergency procedures were up to standard, maybe he could see about - not quitting, exactly, but moving back into a less vital role. He could recommend Marcy as director instead. God, would she think he was being patronising by doing that, since she was Filipina? Like saying she wasn't able to get the position of her own volition?

Stop, stop. He was letting his thoughts spiral. There was so much important work to be done before he could even consider letting himself give up the position of site director. Hell, if he didn't patch up Phi-2's vulnerabilities, there might not even be a site to handover, before long.

The videos. Back to the videos. Where had he been with those?

Right, the fae in the breakroom. He made a note to check in the videos whether groups of metahumans together in one place tended to corrupt the area surrounding them. If it was so, then he would need to notify all the researchers and agents working on containing metahumans that the containment procedures needed to be updated again. It might make the staff a little annoyed at him for bringing up the topic of separating metahumans from each other.

The regular staff members were the ones who dealt with metahuman containment on a daily basis, so of course they would prefer to keep the subjects they were observing in a happy and complacent mood. "A happy anomaly is a contained anomaly" was even a slogan in Orpheus. But if groups of metahumans could subtly influence their surrounding environment simply by being there, it was too risky to leave them together. Making changes to avoid that would be a headache for sure.

That night, Conall avoided watching the videos so that he could properly relax and sleep instead. Thankfully he was sufficiently successful at not staying up worrying that he made it through his meetings the next day without problems. Then he was back to the videos again after work. He decided to keep watching what happened in the break room, until nobody was left unchanged in there.

The little patch of fae influence stopped about halfway across the room, and the fae orgy was pretty much self-contained too, to his surprise. Maybe whoever else was left in there wasn't attracted to or compatible with the fae? There was definitely an element of compatibility to what someone became, as the research Orpheus had done over the last hundred years demonstrated.

The fae kept to themselves, and the remaining humans bickered and had their own individual meltdowns or made calls and texted or tried to make light of the situation. One other person rushed out, after getting a text from a colleague they said they were close to. Conall could guess how that was going to pan out. There were about five left then.

As if to remind Conall that human behaviour was unpredictable one of the remaining untransformed employees, who had been fidgeting and throwing glances across the room, moved aside part of the furniture barrier to join the fae. The satyr caught their hand as they emerged on the other side, greeting them warmly and pulling them into a dance-like twirl. When they were released from being spun around, the satyr produced out of seemingly nowhere an old-fashioned lyre and handed it to them. They sat down on a patch of grass to play, smiling and chatting with the others as they plucked a few notes, and Conall could see their features begin to reshape as they settled into belonging with their companions.

As libertine as metahumans tended to be, it wasn't always about sex. It was more that metahumans seemed to be able to offer something that you were missing and that you wanted enough that you were happy to sign up for the whole transformation package deal that went along with it. It just tended to be about sex for a lot of people, if Conall was being honest. Or about sex mixed together with other things, which it looked like two of the remaining humans on the other side of the barrier were about to start demonstrating.

Things were getting increasingly heated between two researchers in particular who had been bickering with each other the whole time, and Conall was wondering if it would come to blows until one made an offhand comment that he ought to gag the other. That made one of Conall's eyebrows raise. The other eyebrow followed when the second guy told him to go ahead and try, and why doesn't he go ahead and tie him up while he's at it.

After a few hours in one room, the stress was really getting to people. Conall watched in disbelief as one got a scissors from the drawer and cut his lab coat into strips of fabric, then slashed right down the front of the other's shirt and pulled it off him, while the now shirtless guy egged him on. They seemed to know each other, maybe this had been simmering between them for a while, and now it was beginning to boil over...?

Conall turned the volume up, doing his best to ignore the various moans from the orgy in the corner as he strained to hear the conversation between the two guys who were flirting in the most bizarre way imaginable. The taller one held his hands behind his back, turning to show them to the other.

"Here, I'll even make it easy for you, put my hands behind my back."

"Like it's going to be that easy to get you to behave. Why am I even doing this? You're a pain."

"Because you want to see me all trussed up and at your mercy, duh."

"Why can't you be normal for one goddamn second," the shorter one ground out, and then repositioned the taller one's arms to his liking without denying what the other said. From what Conall could see, he wrapped one of the strips of fabric around and then tied it off, and then went back for another, and another. It went from just the wrists, to all around his arms and upper body.

"Well now I have you at my mercy. Time to be a good boy for me."

"Mmm... No. My legs are still free, I could kick you."

The baffling scenario continued. Now the taller man lost his trousers and was pushed down to the floor, his legs being bound as well. As it went on, Conall noticed the bound one had a sort of pattern emerging on his skin, lumps emerging on his shoulders. They developed into twisted little waving limbs as he watched, then plumped out and filled with feathers and - ah, there it was. Those two were turning into angels.

It was harder to see with the one tying the other up, but his shirt looked like it was hiding developing wings as well. He bent and turned, and the fabric ripped. It wasn't quite wings - but a pair of feathered arms, winglike and clawed. It made Conall think a little bit of one of those in-between dinosaurs which was almost a bird. The impression got stronger when a feathered tail forced itself out of the man's waistband.

All four arms gripped the taller man's new wings, folding them against his body, drawing out a moan which was loud enough for the camera to pick up. Somehow the strips of the lab coat had turned into shining golden ribbons, and those were looped and pulled into place until the wings were tied shut and tight against his torso. He was left trussed up tightly and lying face down on the floor.

Conall couldn't imagine being tied up and helpless like that and enjoying it, but it was exactly what the man in the video wanted judging by the noises he was making.

"I like you much more like this," the reptile-like angel said, crouching over him. "Though you're still a bit loud... I should keep your mouth full until you get your halo, then I'll gag you properly. How does that sound, you pervert?"

Conall couldn't hear the reply, but the one on top rolled the other over.

"Mouth's not full yet," the more human looking one taunted.

"See, this is why I have to gag you. There's no way I can get you to display the dignity befitting of an angel otherwise. But first..." The angel on top took off his trousers and crouched down over the other one's chest. "I better put your filthy mouth to work." One pair of arms braced against the ground, the second pair clutched the other angel's head, and he lowered himself to press his crotch to the bound angel's mouth. "Lick."

That... Was probably enough for one evening.

After pausing the footage, Conall was left both with questions and with awkward, conflicted arousal following that display. The questions were what on earth had possessed those two to start bondage play in the middle of a containment breach, and more importantly, how did they end up turning into angelic metahumans as a result?

The vents which had influenced the first of the fae transformations made more sense - there was some kind of aphrodisiac flowing through them, Conall thought, so at least that was a kind of 'contact' with the fae that had added it to the vents. The angels on the other hand appeared to be a completely spontaneous transformation triggered by indulging in the scenario the two had found themselves swept up in... Unless one had been exposed previously, or had unwittingly picked up an angelic artefact somewhere? That made more sense.

Now there were only two untransformed humans left in the break room, and Conall was getting a slightly better picture of how events unfolded so that nobody escaped Epsilon-1. On impulse, he went back to see what happened to the last two. It would stop his brain inventing all sorts of perverse speculative scenarios until his next chance to watch the videos. A quick look through the rest of the footage showed the mobile phone of one of them started to leak bubbling black goo that clung to everything it touched, including the other remaining human when they tried to help. Probably some kind of eldritch nonsense. No need to watch any further than that.

He was also getting more than slightly annoyed that watching the security footage kept resulting in an unwanted stiffy. It was really just very unnecessary. Even if his stupid animal hindbrain responded to the sounds and images in the videos without his conscious input. He'd just have to keep ignoring that inconvenient side-effect; improving the Phi-2 site security was too important to abandon the videos all because his dick wouldn't get the message.

Conall made himself think of the security room again to cool himself down. Wires, scary black goop, eldritch weirdness. Fucking hell.

He didn't sleep well that night either.