It hurt like hell.

As the urine flushed out of her system, Tasìa folded her legs up to ease the throbbing pain just below her abdominal wound.

The liquid sizzled in loud disarray as it made contact with the ceramic bowl beneath her. A strong ammonia scent engulfed her sinus cavities.

The air filled with a gray and green vapor.

That's coming out of me? Her mind reached frantically for another explanation for the latest in a series of anomalies that seemed to reveal themselves around every corner.

Surely, all of them stemmed from the experimental treatment she had received. She thought of General Kutuzova and what he told her.

Induced artificial neurodevelopment. Given you were born premature as you were, there is some flexibility in how they could shape you.

The only other explanation was the antibiotics she took earlier. Not very likely, however; if this bizzaro urine was a common side effect, Tasìa would have heard about it.

The stinging pain wracked her urethra once more. Tasìa jerked her head back and she bit down on the doggy bone.

Her eyes saw red spots that bled into large splotches.

At the vending kiosk, just outside, bells and recorded horn music went off in a noxious blare. A lady whooped it up in a high pitch. It was her lucky day.

Tasìa gripped the toilet seat as she let yet another stream of urine out. She wanted to scream.

With her bladder finally empty, Tasìa breathed in and breathed out slowly. She slumped as she glanced at the content of the bowl beneath her.

Tasìa arched her brows in alarm at the sight. Still, she managed to quip a joke as she flushed the toxic brew down.

In a solemn, comic book based movie voice, Tasìa muttered

"With great power comes high pressured, glowing orange sizzling piss blowing out your pee hole."

She checked the flesh beneath her pubes. To her relief, it was almost back to her normal coppery brown tone.

From her fanny pack, Tasìa grabbed a small tube of aloe vera and a sanitized wipe. She smeared the green liquid of the ointment on the wipe and applied it to relieve her urethra.

The relief was instant. She looked over to the sink where she lay the remaining water bottles.

One down. Three to go.

The last bottle of water she peed out was entirely normal in appearance and effect.

Still, the experience was exhausting, and she felt overheated.

With a wet paper towel, she wiped down her face. After she took off her shirt, she wiped down her upper torso, applying liquid soap to her face and underarm hair as well.

"You have seen better days, little Tasìa," she told herself as she examined herself in the mirror.

She opened up a four-ounce bottle of ginseng elixir and she quaffed it down.

She liked the taste, even. It kicked like a good whiskey with an herbal heated adjunct.

Someone knocked at the bathroom door.

"Can you give me a minute," Tasìa yelled. "I'm just finishing up."

She put her shirt back on and she removed her jacket from the stall door hook.

"Hey, Avellana, Eliza told me you were most likely back here. It's me. Your absolute, most favorite person in the world."

Tasìa eyes glowered in alarm.

"Annebél?"

"First try. Imagine that. Another mutual acquaintance of ours told me you borrowed something of mine. I'll tell you all about that if you open the door."

No. That can't be. Then again, what was the Incubus doing in Annebél's room if she wasn't some kind of agencier of theirs?

Tasìa looked in the mirror, and, like she would as a kid in the middle of a slumber party game of vogue, she froze in place her most confident smirking expression. Tasìa turned back around and she swung open the door.

"Annebél," she said, flatly. Tasìa's eyes flickered low to check out the boots the brawler now wore. She decided it would not hurt matters to complement Annebél's taste.

"Rhinestones and Iguana skin. Nice."

Annebél nodded and returned the smirk.

"I see you've brought your game up, now. The tennis shoes, honestly, that is why I didn't take you seriously."

Tasìa reached into her fanny-pack and she brought out the soltera.

"I believe you mean this. Thank you. It proved invaluable." Tasìa said as she handed it over. She added. "I also gather you are a connoisseur of Baudelaire."

Annebél laughed. Her thin lips wrinkled, inset in her broad jawline.

"Bien sûr, mon petit démon. Quelle fille de France n'est-ce pas?"*

Tasìa shrugged, contritely. "I didn't know."

"I exaggerate. I have never actually been there." She patted her brassy red locks of hair. "I have ancestors from the Gaul, though." Annebél flicked a finger, pointing past Tasìa. "If you don't mind, I could make use of the facilities."

Tasìa stood aside to let the tall woman in.

"What is that," Annebél asked as she entered a stall, "ammonia? Man, my eyes are stinging. Smells like you were electrocuting a prisoner back here."

Tasìa leaned against the sink, slumped. Only the jacket and boots looked acceptable for the Daga Chicas. Her hair needed much work. The shirt was a blood-stained mess, and her trousers were worn thin from the day's excursion.

Tasìa checked the time. Until now, she abided well to her internal schedule, with some allowances. She needed to be moving on, but Annebél seemed to be in no hurry to satisfy Tasìa's curiosity.

"You mentioned a mutual friend," Tasìa said, prompting Annebél.

"Yes. Before I answer that, can you satisfy a little curiosity of my own? The Alfa Romeo parked outside. Where is the fuckstain who owns it?"

Interesting choice of words.

Tasìa recalled Annebél had some history in Asunción. She turned back to answer Annebél.

"Actually, I called the EMS to pick him up. He was ODing on PCP. Likely a lot of other things in his system, as well."

Annebél exited the stall. Her elbow swung the door open as she started buttoning up her jeans.

Tasìa raised her brows at the sight she caught.

No underwear. And a cute piercing. What was that? A ladybug? No, a jade scarab.

"Good," Annebél commented. "I hope the little fucker croaks. I hope they all croak. That entire family is a blight on Asunción."

She washed her hands beside where Tasìa leaned. She shook them dry, turned around, and opened the door.

Standing at the threshold, Annebél turned around and smiled at Tasìa.

"To answer your question. Let me ask another of you. Do you know why I chose a profession that involves fucking?"

Tasìa shook her head, but she did not speak.

Annebél continued.

"You are being quiet out of politeness. How this bond between us grows by the hour, Avellana. Go ahead, take a guess. No wrong answers, at least in the sense that I can be offended."

Tasìa brushed her hair back from her ears. An old habit that she long ago put to rest, now returned.

"You grew tired of fighting. Settled on prostitution until you figure out what you want to do?"

Annebél held the door open with her foot.

"Does someone in between jobs build an occulted chamber to entertain her paramours?"

"No."

"That's right, Avellana, I fuck because I now can."

Tasìa wrinkled her brows with a good deal of strain.

"Wait," she said.

"Now, do you understand, mon petit démon? Our mutual acquaintance wanted me to speak to you. And I am because I owe Bajamutté everything. The two of us are the same. We are Harvested."

Tasìa followed Annebél out the door. The bright lights of the kiosk were like a glare on the clarity of her mind. It was a lingering effect from the LSD.

"But you are a giant," Tasìa blurted out. "How can you be Harvested?"

Annebél stopped and glanced back. She chortled loud.

"I'm no giant. You are just really short. The treatment affects all of us differently. Though on average, diminutive stature is a common condition."

Tasìa blinked as she adjusted to what she was being told. The kiosk lights were not helping her sort the matter out.

"You are the only other Harvested," Tasìa began, "I've ever met that I am aware of. Do you know others like us?"

Annebél nodded.

"There's a core group I am a part of in Asunción. It grew too dangerous after the program got some public exposure, so most of us went underground."

Tasìa pointed to the kiosk.

"Those lights are really fucking with my head right now."

Annebél nodded.

"I was told about that venture of yours with those neighbors of mine. I do not fuck with them. You want to go around the corner?"

Tasìa nodded. They headed to the edge of a wall that blocked out the glare. Even the noise was dampened. They could hear across the lot.

"Hey, listen," Annebél began. "As I said before, I owe Bajamutté everything. Given my experience, he asked me to help you with your problem. It is what I do, coach and council other Harvested. Sex therapy."

Tasìa gave a quick glance up and down. Annebél was an outstandingly attractive woman. But, Tasìa thought of Bajamutté, and his endowment. In truth, she was looking forward to that being the means of ending her virginal state.

"You don't mean . . .?"

Annebél chortled.

"I have no inclination in that regard. I'm there to keep you calm so you don't lose control while you are getting plowed."

"Is Bajamutté going to be there?"

Annebél grinned before she answered.

"Yes. Of course. Short Stuff has quite the swinging meat on him doesn't he?"

Both women laughed together at the quip. When Tasìa bowed down low, Annebél hugged her to help her back upright. Tasìa gut wound gave her a jolt. It ached from laughing so hard.

Then, a thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Both of their heads sprung back up, alerted by the odd noise. Annebél held her finger up, begging for quiet.

It was a loud pounding sound.

Annebél pointed to the trunk of the Alfa Romeo HybrClydis. The two women started to approach the vehicle.

Tasìa took out the set of car keys and she pressed the wireless control to unleash all of the locks. The hatch soon gave way and the trunk popped open.

A pair of legs kicked up in the air. They twisted around in a frenzy. Ripped duct tape was wrapped on each of the pair of shins.

Finally, a young woman tumbled out onto the asphalt lot.

She wore a pullover lavender dress. Dyed blonde strands ribboned frizzy black hair. Her mouth and arms were taped over.

She caught sight of Tasìa and Annebél as they approached. The girl got up on her feet and she started hauling ass away from them.

"Who the fuck is that," Annebél asked as she started to chase after the girl.

Tasìa caught up to her.

"My best guess. The girl who refused to blow Sal."

####################

*"Of course, my little fiend. What daughter of France isn't?"