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Milena's Diary Chapter 3

Written by conceptfan :: [Saturday, 01 December 2001 07:55] Last updated by :: [Saturday, 22 September 2012 10:49]

Milena’s Diary



All of my stories have been written for an exclusively adult audience. They contain descriptions of violence, some of it of a sexual nature. They also include other sexually explicit depictions. They are in no way suitable for minors. Furthermore it is against the law in many parts of the world for this type of material to be read, either by minors or by minors and adults. Please make sure you are not acting contrary to local legislation before reading on and please do not read any further if you find this type of material offensive in any way.

This is a work of fiction and any similarity between the characters and events depicted and any people/events in real-life, past or present, is purely co-incidence. A number of the characters and events portrayed are inspired by, or based upon, existing works of fiction. Although I have made every effort to keep plagiarism to a minimum, I must acknowledge a debt of thanks to the many artists and writers who have shared their talents with the public.

I've released my stories to the public domain to make sure that as many people as possible who share my interest in this type of fiction can enjoy them. Please feel free to re-distribute them by whatever means you like, provided you respect the following points: (1) The stories will be re-distributed exactly as they are - unchanged and unedited. (2) No other person will claim authorship of any of these stories or any part of them. (3) The stories will not be distributed for profit, either on their own or as part of a group of other works.

Lastly, thank you for your interest in this story. I hope you enjoy it!


Monday 14th May 2001 - 9:00 pm

Now I've really got to get out of the country. Tonight if I can. And I guess I'll probably never be able to come back either. Not unless I'm in the mood for one hell of a rumble. But I've got to say, it was worth it. I've had more fun in the past few hours than I've ever had in my life. Being super is fucking brilliant. Anyway, what I'm going to do is write down everything I can remember doing since this afternoon and then get the hell out of here. Actually, I can't believe how good my memory is now. I can recall almost every detail. But getting it all down on paper will help me set it straight in my mind, so I'd best get started.

After I'd written down this afternoon's events, I left my suitcase here in the cave and headed out to the beach. I knew exactly where I was going, but I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there. I started sprinting by the main road where I met Enrico this morning. Using the trees lining the road as cover, I sped past the wreckage I'd made. Two guys and a policeman were standing next to it, looking perplexed. They didn't notice me as I streaked past. I had to be doing nearly a hundred kilometres an hour. It felt great to be running so fast, the friction of the wind warming up my exposed skin. I was almost sorry when I arrived at the gates of my uncle's house on the other side of town ten minutes later.

It was then that I realised that I didn't have a plan. I knew I wanted some kind of revenge on my uncle, but I also wanted to find out why he had tried to have me killed. I saw his car parked in the drive. At least he was home. That made my mind up for me - I had to get inside. From my vantage point on the other side of the street, I could see two guys in suits standing near the house. There were probably a couple inside as well, watching the driveway on CCTV. There was no way I was going to be able to surprise Tony. I might as well make a big entrance. I walked casually up to the two huge gates separating the driveway from the street.

As I approached the five-meter high iron barrier, a disembodied voice distracted me. It came from a small black box attached to one of the bars of the gate.

"Can I help you miss?" So, I'd already been spotted. I knew I'd better get on with things.

"No thanks. I can manage by myself." I said.

"This is a private residence. Please move on." said the voice.

"Actually I've got some business with Mr. Alto, so I'll be coming in."

"Mr. Alto doesn't have any appointments today. Please move on."

"Oh, I don't need an appointment."

I placed my left hand on one of the three centimetre diameter bars of the gate and my right on another.

"I am asking you to leave immediately. This is a private residence" warned the voice. I gripped the bars. I felt the iron deforming slightly in my hands. I was gripping a bit too hard.

"This is your final warning. Please leave immediately."

"I told you I'm coming in." I said. I relaxed my grip on the gate a little. I didn't want to break the bars. One of the guys in suits walked hurriedly over towards the other side of the gate. In what was obviously a well-rehearsed move, he moved one side his jacket to reveal his pistol in its holster.

"I think you'd better move on, miss." he said, trying to sound pleasant but forceful.

"Look, " I said, "I just told your pal on the intercom. I've got some business with Tony Alto. I'm coming in to see him."

"If you have a message for Mr. Alto," replied the guy in the suit, "I'd be happy to take it to him. But you'll have to leave the area right away."

"I don't have to do anything." I told him, truthfully.

"I'm afraid you do." said the suit. "Now, give me the message and go."

"OK. This is the message." I lifted my hands, maintaining my grip on the bars. I'd never heard the scream of tearing metal before. It's an amazing sound. Especially when it you that's causing it. I raised the gate slowly, not wanting to break the bars I was holding. The huge hinges continued to screech until they finally broke with a loud clang.

The five-meter high, eight-meter wide and three centimetre thick iron gate was a little difficult to balance in my delicate feminine hands. I knew if I gripped it too tightly, the bars I was holding would break and the huge barrier would fall. Carefully, I bent my arms so that I was holding the gate over my head. The guard was so stunned that he almost fell backwards over himself. I smiled at him. He just stared back at me in total disbelief. "Here," I said, still smiling, "take this to Mr. Alto" and I casually tossed the enormous gate towards him. He fell to the ground before the barrier hit him. It landed on him with a sickening crunching sound. There was blood everywhere.

I strolled past what was left of him towards the door of the mansion. The other suited guard had seen what had happened to his pal and not surprisingly wasn't too keen on coming too close to me. But his colleague was dead and he wasn't going to be a coward. "Stop right there!" he yelled at me, his gun pointed straight at my head.

"Go home and you won't get hurt." I told him, not breaking my stride. I heard the bang of his pistol. Using my super speed I whirled around to face him and caught the bullet in my hand, the lead flattening quite a bit against my far tougher palm. He looked stunned; to him my movement must have been nothing but a blur. I held up the bullet between my thumb and forefinger where he could see it. "Is this yours?" I asked him sweetly. "Would you like it back?" Before he could say anything I flicked the bullet at him with my middle digit. It spun length-wise in the air, moving far faster than it had done when it was fired at me, tearing a big hole right through the guard's head. He crumpled up to the ground.

Now I'd really announced my arrival. I heard an upstairs window open. Looking up, I saw a guy holding a really big gun. I was quite excited by this. I hoped it was a machine gun - I'd not yet been shot by one of those. To my delight, my hopes were fulfilled. There was a rat-a-tat sound and a flock of bullets headed my way. The hit in a line right across my chest, bouncing off all over the place like a jet of water hitting a wall. It felt fantastic! No man has even managed to give me a thrill like that. I stopped walking towards the mansion, and stood perfectly still in order to enjoy the sensation of dozens of bullets a second striking my breasts.

To my great disappointment the gunner ran out of ammo. I snapped out of my trance and started walking again. The front door was an ostentatiously large, wooden affair. I placed my right palm centrally on the huge slab of oak and gave it a shove. Evidently, someone had been posted behind it because when the big door had flown the length of Tony's huge entrance hall, smashing against the far wall, it stayed vertical as if stuck by glue instead of falling to the floor and red liquid trickled out from underneath it. I stood in the now empty doorway and looked around. There were three guys, two in the far left corner and one in the far right. I was overjoyed to see that they were all holding machine guns like the one I'd seen in the upstairs window.

The three goons looked at the mess collecting below what used to be the front door and then at me. I couldn't help but grin when they opened fire. To make sure I got the full benefit of their weapons, I placed my hands on my hips and shoved my chest out to meet the on-rushing gunfire. Three streams of powerful bullets felt so much better than one. I let them keep firing until they ran dry. By then, I was so excited, I'd almost forgotten why I was there. The men threw down their weapons and stared at my breasts in awe. They clearly didn't know what to do.

The guy who had been standing on his own, obviously particularly stupid, rushed at me, fists flailing. I caught his right wrist with my left hand then forced his arm across his body so I could grab his other wrist as well. With both his arms trapped in my one-handed grip, I raised them above his head. As I was feeling a little horny (my tits were still tingling from the delicious triple hail of bullets) I pulled him towards me. Getting my right hand behind his head I pressed him gently against me. He screamed in pain. I started to rub his face across my breasts. There was a crack and another scream as his nose broke. His blood ran down my cleavage and my vest and dripped to the floor, not leaving a trace on me.

Compared to the sensation caused by machine-gun fire, the guy's beat-up face did nothing for me. It was just too soft. I removed the hold I had on the back of his head and yanked upwards with the hand that had captured his two wrists, letting go of him as I did so. He bounced off the ceiling and fell with a thud to the floor. The other two guards started to run. I caught up to them in three strides, lifting them off the ground with one hand on the back of each of their necks. Bored with them now, I just tossed them over my shoulders. I heard the thuds as they hit the wall, but I didn't bother to turn around. I just turned the corner into the corridor and kept walking.

I knew Tony's office was at the end of the corridor so I walked straight towards the door. Not wanting my uncle to suffer the same fate as the guy who had been behind the front door, instead of pushing in his office door, I punched it with such speed that my fist went right through the wood, without affecting the hinges. I removed my arm from the new hole and placed two fingers of each hand on the edge of the breech. Pulling my arms apart, I reduced much of the heavy oak door to sawdust and stepped through the wreckage into T.'s office. He wasn't there. I swore.

After all the commotion of the previous minutes, the silence felt odd. I was sure that Tony would have had more men protecting his house. They all had to be hiding somewhere. I strained my ears. I could hear faint sounds coming from beneath my feet. I'd visited my uncle in that house dozens of times, but he'd never said anything about a basement. It must've been a big secret. I was too excited by this time to search for a hidden doorway, so I just raised my delicate bare foot and stamped on the floor. I went through carpet and floor boards and into thick concrete. Another stamp and I had smashed my way through twenty centimetres of fake foundations. My foot dangled in air.

Someone must've shot the sole of my foot from down there. It kind of tickled. I removed my foot, stepped back and jumped two-footed onto the edges of the hole I'd made. I went straight through the floor, landing neatly on my heels amidst a cloud of concrete dust ten foot below the office. Just a tiny bend of my knees was all it took to absorb the impact of my fall, and I was back standing straight again in the blink of an eye.

I looked around. I was in a huge underground chamber - Tony's big "little secret". Before I could scan the place properly, I was under machine gun fire from behind. As far as I was concerned, that was a waste of bullets. I whirled around and assumed the position for maximum enjoyment - hands on hips, tits pushed out. My nipples strained even more than usual against the fabric of my super vest as I could no longer hide my arousal.

There was only one guy firing. To make the most of it, I followed the path of his bullets and moved my chest so that as many slugs as possible hit my nipples. To my great disappointment, he soon ran out of ammo like the others had done. Typical man - he was finished and I was only just getting started. I began walking towards him - I think I wanted to teach him a lesson for letting me down - but before I reached him I was interrupted by the sound of more automatic weapons firing behind me. The sensation as the first slugs hit my back and shoulders was a bit like getting caught in light rain to me, but the bullets that missed me and hit the goon I had been approaching must have felt very different to him as they tore through his vulnerable flesh and he collapsed to the ground.

The hail of lead from behind continued. Clearly, I was being fired at from quite a few angles, because some of the slugs hit the sides of my breasts, bouncing harmlessly away but not before they had sent a most pleasant tingle right through my torso. The shots that rebounded of my rear didn't exactly feel bad either. Slowly, I spun around, letting the on-coming bullets hit all over my body in the same way that I turn in the shower to get the water to hit as much of my skin as possible. But I have to admit that the continuous impacts all over me felt more wonderful than any shower I've ever had.

With the dead guy behind me now and luxuriating in the sensation of being under heavy fire, I looked at the rest of the underground chamber. It was enormous! I could see long tables laden with all kinds of chemical apparatus in the middle distance and a small fleet of vans behind them. This was obviously some kind of major drug processing and dispatching centre that my Uncle Tony had built beneath his house. He'd kept it completely secret, too - at least until this afternoon, anyway. I always figured that T. had to have his fingers in some sort of narcotic pie, but I never guessed it was on this scale. No wonder he had so much security.

Speaking of the security, I counted six of them in a line right across the room, all still firing their noisy machine guns at poor little me. There were at least a dozen more guys in the room behind them, some of them hiding behind the long tables, others clutching all kinds of weapons, ready to join the fight if needed. I had a feeling they would, indeed, be needed. I started thinking about what I was going to do about the half dozen gunners immediately in front of me, smiling as I ran through the many incredible possibilities my new "super" body presented to me. I was still lost in my thoughts when I heard someone shout "Go for her head!"

Immediately, the pleasant sensation of countless bullets hitting my torso ceased, to be replaced by the curious feeling of the little lead missiles striking my face and the sides of my head. They didn't really hurt me, although the ones that struck my eyeballs did sting a little. One thing was certain - I didn't enjoy it half as much as I did when the goons were aiming for my body. Sure, it was a turn-on to know that half-a-dozen machine guns raining lead on my head didn't affect me much, but it felt nothing like as exciting as when that lead hits my tits. Nothing like it at all in fact. I decided to do something about that.

Seeing as the shooters weren't going to use their weapons the way I wanted them to, I realised I'd have to take matters into my own hands. I started walking towards the nearest goon with the intention of taking his gun off him, but I didn't figure on the tens of bullets ricocheting violently off my skull. I'd only got within about two metres of the guy when one of those rebounding bits of lead lodged itself in his forehead and he instantly fell to the ground. Using my incredible speed, I stepped forward, reached down and grabbed his gun from his now relaxed hands before his lifeless body even hit the floor.

I turned the gun I'd captured over in my hands, examining it. The five remaining shooters kept up their constant barrage on my face, but I ignored them as I held the weapon up to my chest. Carefully I aligned the barrel so that it was just a few centimetres from my left nipple and then I squeezed the trigger, the way my Uncle had taught me many years ago. It felt like heaven! The stream of hot bullets following one another so quickly to smash against the now engorged centre of my breast created a pleasure so intense that I closed my eyes and forgot all about the guys shooting at my head. After a few moments, I moved the gun over to my other nipple and enjoyed the wonderful sensation all over again.

Suddenly, the beautiful feeling ceased. The weapon I was holding had ran out of ammunition. My entire chest felt as if it was glowing with pure pleasure. Gradually, I returned to my senses and became aware once more that my face was being used for target practice. As the gun in my hands could no longer give me any pleasure, I began to squeeze it, marvelling at the way the hardened steel yielded to the will of my slender, feminine hands. Pretty soon, there was nothing left but a useless, hot, mangled ball of metal. I tossed it underarm into the midriff of one of the five guys shooting at me. The impact knocked him off his feet and sent him sailing backwards a couple of metres before he crashed to the ground. He didn't move again.

That left four shooters and a whole bunch of hostile observers. Concentrating on the river of lead flying towards my head I couldn't believe how easy it was for me just to open my mouth and catch one of the bullets between my teeth. I had to be a little careful not to bite it in half, but in the end my teeth only sank a few millimetres into the metal. Turning to face one of my assailants, I spat out the slug like I would spit out a cherry stone. This particular "cherry stone" hit its target on the bridge of his nose and travelled quite a fair distance once it had burst out of the back of his head. Needless to say, he crumpled up on the ground.

Moving my head to the side slightly, I easily trapped a second flying bullet in my mouth. An effortless little spitting gesture on my part removed another gunman from the equation. I was about to repeat the trick yet again when I was distracted by some movement from behind one of the long tables. Someone back there was throwing something at me. At first I thought it was some kind of exotic fruit, but I soon recognised the familiar shape of a hand grenade. The guy who had tossed it must've had a pretty good aim because it came to rest right at my feet. I couldn't decide whether to kick it away or run from it. In the end my hesitation made the choice irrelevant. The thing exploded right there, just centimetres from me.

I have to admit, for a moment I was a bit scared. I mean, I'd never had a grenade blow up at my feet before. I should've known better though. The heat of the explosion, added to the sensation of chunks of shrapnel striking my bare legs was actually quite enjoyable. One chunk of metal flew straight upwards, smacking into the underside of my right breast, sending a wave of pleasure through my body and distracting me for a while. When I regained my composure, I realised that the hail of bullets striking my head had stopped. Looking up I realised why: the exploding grenade had killed the two remaining gunmen.

I was wondering what to do next when the grenade thrower's arm appeared from behind one of the tables and another of his little "gifts" flew my way. I decided not to waste this one on my legs. Taking a few quick steps forward I caught it in my right hand. I placed two fingers of the other hand down the front of my vest into the deep warm valley of my cleavage and gently eased my breasts apart. I was tingling with anticipation as I pushed the grenade into the gap I'd made. I squeezed the thing right down between my tits until it was almost lost amidst the smooth, firm mounds of flesh. When I removed my hands, I saw that the grenade was being crushed as the phenomenal pressure of my breasts closing together squeezed and deformed the metal.

That was probably what set it off. I watched as my indestructible vest and invulnerable chest contained most of the force of the explosion. The fantastic heat against some of my most feminine flesh thrilled me in a way I'd never been thrilled before. Most of the grenade's casing had nowhere to go as it flew apart, the shards of metal dimpling the softest parts of my body ever so slightly as though I were being caressed by the world's most experienced lover before my transformation, only this was better. One small piece of shrapnel managed to escape from my cleavage, flying straight upwards into my chin before clattering to the ground, not reducing the delightfulness of the moment in the slightest.

As the warm glow spread across my breasts, I was in heaven. Forgetting entirely that I still had an audience, I raised my hands and cupped myself through my vest. I began to massage myself, my slender fingers making far deeper impressions in my chest than the exploding grenade fragments had managed. I could feel that my nipples fully enlarged and threatening to burst through the thin fabric of my top. I pinched them with slightly more force than I had used earlier to crush the machine gun, sending fresh waves of fabulous pleasure to my brain. I was so lost in my rapture, that I almost didn't notice when a third grenade was tossed my way.

I say "almost", because I did manage to react in time, bending low to scoop it up before it hit the ground. By that time I was so turned on that there was no doubt in my mind what I was going to do with it. I hooked my left thumb inside the waistband of my indestructible panties and dropped the live explosive inside, speedily forcing it down into my crotch until I could feel it touching my nether lips. And then I waited. Only for a second, although it felt like an hour to me, so keen was I to sample this new experience. And what an experience!

The extreme heat and force of the blast, contained in such an intimate area, sent me to a place I'd never been to before. I cried out with uncontrollable pleasure. Some of the exploding shrapnel actually got a little way inside me, the hot sharp fragments of metal creating a delightful sensation. The rest of the grenade remained trapped in the almost non-existent space between my most sensitive flesh and my underwear, transmitting surges of warmth through my crutch. The sheer energy of the explosion filled my sex with an indescribable feeling of power, generating an orgasmic sensation that washed over my entire being until I felt tears welling in my eyes.

I was brought dramatically out of my reverie by the sound of vehicle engines being started up. Blinking my vision clear, I looked up to see that most of the surviving goons were running into the vans at the far end of the underground chamber and were preparing to make a quick getaway. The far wall was slowly sliding open like an automatic garage door - the secret entrance to the secret room. Only two guys had been left behind; one of them was at one of the long tables that were covered with chemical apparatus, frantically throwing large packets of white powder into a sports bag.

The other straggler was standing by the left-side wall some twenty metres from me, holding yet another grenade in his left hand whilst his right was about to pull out the pin. I knew immediately that he was the one who had been responsible for the other grenades that had been lobbed at me. I decided to deal with him first. Moving as quickly as I could, I was by his side before he could hook his finger around the wire loop at the top of the explosive. I gave him just long enough to realise that I was suddenly right next to him before I grabbed the grenade from his grip. Then, with my other hand, I took a hold of the collar of his shirt, lifting his entire body twenty centimetres off the concrete floor. His eyes widened in shock and fear. I smiled at him, in mock reassurance.

I held on tightly to the guy's collar as his two hands came up to try and prize open my grip. Of course his efforts had absolutely no effect on me, but I did enjoy seeing him try. I smiled at him again, but his only response was to snarl something like "Fucking bitch" through his clenched teeth. Whatever it was he said, it was no way to talk to a lady and I figured that he had to be punished. So, keeping him in place suspended by my slender fingers, I moved my other hand in between our bodies. As that other hand was still holding a grenade, the fear that suddenly came over his face was understandable, but it gave me a thrill nevertheless. I suppose we both knew what was going to happen.

The pin was still firmly in place and I didn't have a spare hand to pull it out. I thought about using my teeth like a soldier in a war movie, but then I had a better idea. I just gripped the grenade a little bit tighter in my fist, feeling the metal yielding to the pressure exerted by my delicate, feminine hand. As the explosive began to visibly deform around my fingers, the guy hanging from my other hand became frantic, his eyes bulging first in shock and then fear. His big, strong-looking hands frenziedly tried to break my casual hold on his collar whilst his leg thrashed about wildly, kicking me in the thighs and crotch.

Of course, I hardly felt a thing, but I didn't let his efforts go unrewarded. I gave him a big warm smile as I continued to squeeze the grenade in my fist until finally the thing couldn't take any more and it did what it was built to do. The explosion wasn't as dramatic as the one in my panties had been and it certainly didn't do nearly as much for me as that one had, but it was effective enough for the guy in my other hand.

I say that because although my fist absorbed much of the blast, quite a bit of shrapnel did manage to escape through my fingers. Some of it hit me - one chunk in the face which felt like a quick kiss from a lover and another chunk glanced off the outside of my right breast, flying a further ten meters away to lodge itself deeply in the concrete wall. That sensation reminded me of a gentle, teasing caress. A third, much smaller chunk of debris tore right through my new friend's neck, instantly stopping his struggles. I dropped his corpse and the mangled bits of exploded grenade onto the floor, noticing that there wasn't even so much as a tiny bruise on the palm that had contained vastly more shrapnel than it had taken to kill a man.

I looked away from my hand and back towards the end of the underground chamber. The far wall had almost slid open and the van drivers were beginning to start their engines. Uncle Tony had to be in one of those vehicles and even though I was pretty confident of being able to outsprint them, I knew I couldn't run the risk of letting them drive away. There was one guy left on his feet, continuing to franticly stuff large packets of powder into his sports bag. I blew him a little kiss for his troubles, my superlungs doing the business as my gentle exhalation picked him up and threw him and his bag of powder violently up against the wall five metres behind him. He hit the concrete a metre off the ground in a vast cloud of drug-dust. When his body fell to the floor, the settling powder mixed with his blood.

I ran past him and produced a leap five meters high and twenty meters long to clear the first set of tables of apparatus that stood between me and the half-dozen vans. The second series of tables I didn't bother to hurdle. I just continued to run as I approached them, my legs and waist splintering and pulverising the thick wood, my pace not slacking for a moment. My abdomen and breasts smashed through countless pieces of glassware - beakers, test-tubes and who knows what else - sending liquids and powders flying in all directions, but of course not a drop or a crumb stained me, my vest or panties. At one point, a vicious-looking shard of glass hit me in the eye, bouncing harmlessly off my invulnerable retina, a nice reminder - if I needed reminding - of just how "super" I now am.

Having burst through the laboratory tables, I was now only about fifteen meters from the nearest vans. The cleverly disguised automatic door had almost risen high enough to allow the front-most vehicles to pass beneath it. The vans were lined up in two rough columns of three vehicles each. All six drivers were revving their engines, ready to shoot off at top speed as soon as they could. I had to act fast. A running jump landed me right between the two vans at the back of the queues.

Reaching down I grabbed hold of the rear fender of the vehicle on my right. A gentle tug of my arm, coupled with a little flick of my wrist lifted the whole van more than a metre off the ground to come crashing noisily down on its side, its wheels spinning uselessly. It was thrilling to watch ten tonnes of steel flying through the air in response to my casual toss. I darted to my left and repeated the process on the vehicle on that side of me, putting a little bit more into my tug so that it rose even higher and smashed down on its side even harder, rewarding me with the sound of a shout of pain from within.

Both sets of back doors on the two overturned vans burst open letting me glance inside them. There were five men in one and four in the other. I dashed between the two stricken vehicles to check the drivers' cabs. The windscreens had shattered, but I could clearly make out the faces of the two guys in each truck. To my disappointment, although I'd put a pair of vans out of commission, dear old Uncle Tony was not in either of them. I left the goons in the two toppled trucks to untangle themselves and walked forward between the next - middle - pair of vans.

I could see that the front vehicles would be speeding off any second, so I had to find T. quick. The genie hadn't managed to give me X-ray vision along with my other new powers, so I had to improvise to see who was hiding in the backs of the next pair of trucks. I stepped quickly up to the side of the right-hand van and turned to face it. Then I ducked down and forward, my head tearing through the thin steel as if it were paper. Six shocked faces greeted me as I peered through the hole I'd made. No Tony.

I turned around and smashed my face through the side of the next vehicle. It felt like walking through a lightweight curtain as I tore a jagged hole thirty centimetres in diameter in the metal, not leaving a single scratch on my now flawless skin. It was fun, but once I'd studied the men cowering inside without finding my target, I was disappointed. I was strolling forward to check out the identity of whoever was up front when the automatic door finally opened far enough for the vans to pass. The front two vehicles immediately sped away, I guessed towards the main road.

Now I really had to get a move on. The vans on either side of me began to accelerate too, following the other out. There was no way I was going to allow that. Sprinting to the side, I flashed out my leg, hitting the bottom of the left-hand machine. My kick launched the van sideways, lifting it off the ground with which it only renewed contact after it had smashed against the wall ten metres away. Immediately I spun around and chased after the truck on my right. This time I kicked its underneath from behind, forcing the back end of it so high into the air that the whole thing crashed down on its front fender before toppling over and coming to rest completely upside down.

Dashing forward, I checked out the front of the two huge machines I'd just turned into junk with my delicate bare foot. Uncle T. wasn't in either of them. He had to be in one of the two vans that had sped away. Furious with myself, I left the four mangled vehicles and the ruins of Tony's hidden underground chamber behind me as I sprinted through the now open secret doorway, hoping to give chase. I found myself on a dirt track that led, as I had thought, to the main road. But when I got there, I was in for another disappointment.

The road went both ways from the dirt track. Using my enhanced vision I scanned the horizon in each direction and saw that the two vans had torn off in opposite directions. There was no way I would be able to catch them both. I had to make a decision - a flip of a mental coin. The odds on picking the right vehicle were 2 to 1; I laid my bet by turning to the right and running as fast as I could after the distant speeding truck.

The gap between me and the van I was chasing must've been about two kilometres when I started sprinting, and I know that it was going at full pelt, yet it only seemed to be a few minutes later when I found myself within touching distance of it. I didn't even feel tired or out of breath. In fact, I would have happily kept on running at that pace all day, if it weren't for the fact that I was looking for my uncle. Business before pleasure, as they say.

Sprinting up behind the van, I reached up behind it, taking a one-handed hold on the back doors. Then I stopped running, keeping my grip secure. The vehicle's momentum did the work of ripping the big doors off their hinges. I tossed them casually aside, catching sight of them landing fifty metres away. Then I looked into the van. Only one guy in there, and he definitely wasn't Tony. I broke into a run again, effortlessly re-closing the gap between myself and the speeding vehicle. This time, I spread my arms wide and grabbed hold of both sides of the van itself, bending the metal inwards as I tightened my grip.

I heard the engine whining in complaint as I slowed down my pace, holding fast to the back of the vehicle. I smelt burning rubber and noticed that tires were smoking. It was no contest really. A big, powerful van against slim little me. There was a huge bang as the engine gave up, yielding to my vastly superior strength. I heard a tinkle of glass and a dull thud as someone was thrown through the front window. Letting go of the now motionless vehicle, I dashed around to the front to see who it was. I found a corpse lying on the centre of the road. The face was bloodied, but I knew straight away I'd picked the wrong van. This guy wasn't the one I hope to find. I'd let Uncle T. get away.

I was still cursing my luck when my ultra-sensitive ears picked out the sound of an approaching police siren. I had no desire at that moment to answer any questions and I didn't feel like having to smash up the entire police force, so I decided to get the hell out of there. As I started running back here towards the cave, I consoled myself with the thought that even if I hadn't found Tony - or even discovered why he had wanted me dead - at least I had put his little manufacturing and distribution concern out of business. And I've certainly reduced the size of his staff.

It wasn't that I set out to take so many lives this afternoon, but most of the people I killed were trying to kill me. And, to be honest, apart from the disappointment of letting Uncle T. get away, I've had a great time. I just love being this super; having nothing to fear and being able to do just about anything I can imagine. OK, I've got to lie low for awhile - perhaps abroad somewhere - but I'll be back for Tony and he won't be so lucky next time. The only question is how am I going to get out of town with every cop in the country looking for me?


 Conceptfan, December 2001.



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