It was difficult biking with the supplies she’d taken, but she figured a way out. It made the bike ride twice as long but she made it, as did the supplied. She inspected the bike rack near the door to make sure none of her stupid classmates were inside, then made her way in herself.
The relief she felt from getting to be back inside the mall was nauseating. She was now irreversibly ten percent hornier, for the rest of her life. She was getting more damaged, possible for every extra second she spent there. She didn’t know how it worked, and didn’t plan to find out.
But first, priorities. She couldn’t live with herself if her plan worked while someone was inside the mall, so steeling herself, she drew in a breath and screamed.
“Help me! Help me, please! Helllp!”
She waited. She knew that her entire plan would be ruined if anyone heard her, but she just couldn’t risk it. She needed to yell something that would cause anyone that heard it to run to her. No person deserved what was coming. The mall deserved it tenfold.
She waited, holding her breath. At one point she thought she heard footsteps, and, as silly as it was, feared for her life. Frustratingly, that made her wet. She’d have her whole life to come to terms with her dangerous fetishes, but for now, she had a responsibility to stop the problem from getting worse.
Satisfied that no one was coming, she took the first can of gasoline into a store with visibly torn cladding near the top. She shoved the can in her hands towards the wall, decorating it with streaks of liquid. She thought about Tyler. Her pussy twitched.
She emptied the rest of the can making a line of gasoline towards the food court, noting how much of what was still left in there was flammable. Strategically, she emptied can after can, until everything was in place.
Taking out the matches, Zoe sighed. She wasn’t an arsonist. Not only did she have no idea if this would work or not, she also knew that if this somehow came back to her, the rest of her life would be affected.
But then, it already was. She was already imprisoned in one way, especially if these effects would never lessen. She was damaged goods forever (and she wished she didn’t find that so damn hot), and she could never live the life of a normal person again. The least she could do was make sure the others who were on that same path were spared such a fate.
She stared at the fire in her hands, the match lit. Just drop it. It was so simple. She had a shot at making her problems go away, and it was as easy as dropping a lit match. Afterwards, she could do whatever she wanted – she could fuck whoever, knowing that the cause and continuation was out of her hands. She could enjoy her new freedom, sexual and otherwise, knowing she did everything within her power to live as normal a life as possible.
She slowly tilted her hands and moved her muscles, allowing her fingers to open. The flame danced, then fell from her hands. At first, she remained still, watching the flame drop, but realized in the nick of time that she needed to steer clear. Time moved at a slower pace. It almost felt wrong how much she moved before anything happened. It felt like a whole minute of running to Zoe before she looked back. And as soon as she did, the gasoline ignited.
In the movies, that’s slowed down too, but the gasoline was instantaneous, and a lot more explosive than Zoe expected. She was knocked off her feet, and held her eyes, yelling and crying for a few seconds. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurred, a mixture of darkness and yellow. She couldn’t see, but she knew where the fire was and knew the exit was in the opposite direction of that, so she ran.
About a minute of movement and a few blinks later and Zoe could barely see again, making her way outside the mall. Not wasting a second, she hopped on her bike, nervously looking from side to side. Her job was done now. She pedalled away in a hurry, praying that the universe would take it from there.
***
“The old mall caught on fire!”
Thanks to Zoe’s recent interest in Hazelwood’s gossip train, it wasn’t hard to keep up with everyone’s news on the matter. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a universal law of high school gossip – the more important the event was, the more bullshit and speculation that had to surround it.
“A person was trapped inside!”
“Fifteen people were trapped inside!”
“I heard a serial arsonist escaped from jail and did it!”
“The government did it for the tax benefits!”
“Tax benefits? The government?? Johnny, you’re out of your element.”
Zoe was an even worse student than usual. Sure enough, her terminal horniness didn’t go away, and now she was hyper-aware of the fact that by this point, around an eighth of her class was various levels of terminally horny too. Even without looking at Nami or Tyler (and never again, as far as she was concerned) she could see several kids squirming in their seats and daydreaming whenever she looked. The question was, was that a sign of something, or had Zoe just grown paranoid…?
Zoe’s poor class performance wasn’t helped by her all-nighter, nor her knowledge that everyone around school was talking about something she did. She was already paranoid about how horny her classmates secretly were (which, without context, was weird as fuck of her, she knew that), but the fact that, at any moment, any of her classmates could tell her “I heard you did it!” and she’d burst into tears really made that paranoia complete.
She did her duty, and even if it didn’t cost her her two best friends, she didn’t think she’d ever speak to either of them again. Let them live their lives. Let them have their stupid little horny adventures. Stupid… little…
Another bad combination of terminally horny and sleepy, aside from paranoia, was lack of awareness. Zoe had to keep catching herself in class; she was playing with herself. More than once, in history class, she’d space out, lean back and be way too overt about it, to the point where the second time, a guy clearly noticed, some popular-looking guy. When she noticed him, she pulled her hand back like it was on fire, blushed, and looked down. She looked back up to see him passing her a note of some kind… a number. A phone number.
The old Zoe would give him a face and rip up that number right in front of him. The current Zoe bit her lip and maintained eye contact, wondering if he was enough of a man to hold her down and violate her as she protested. The thought made her wetter, and, weak as she was, she resigned to subtly playing with herself for the rest of class, making sure this boy had the best angle possible while her blissfully unaware teacher (she was, in hindsight, so lucky to get Mr. Anton) and fellow classmates continued with the lesson. Hey, he was probably already affected if he was reacting like this, and she clearly was so affected that she would need a guy that could keep up with him… what was the harm?
The pit in her stomach resumed at the school’s last bell when she realized she didn’t even know what she did. She didn’t know what the mall was now. Did it burn to the ground? Did it remain, but cause enough of a fuss that every entrance was barred? Did the firefighter team rush in and get affected? A whole… team of firefighters? A bunch of jacked, assertive men… not afraid to hold a girl down and take her no matter what she said… taking turns using her tender pussy as if she was their personal property, to have, to use… to breed…