Perfect Timing

by Conceptfan

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WRITTEN FOR SGI WORKSHOP 2.3
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A priest lead the way. Richard Jones followed close behind, flanked by two armed wardens with two more behind him. His feet and hands were chained as they brought him to the chamber room where the prison Governor, a technician and four National Guardsmen, were waiting. Along with the gas chamber itself.

The priest left. The wardens strapped him onto the chair inside the chamber and then stepped out. The technician sealed the door and nodded to the Governor who hesitated, enjoying his instant of supreme power. Then he raised his head and said "Proceed."

The technician reached for a lever.

Suddenly, the wall behind the National Guardsmen exploded inwards into the room, killing the quartet and half-burying them under piles of displaced brick. The wardens grabbed their pistols as the technician and the Governor dived for cover. Plaster dust swirled in the air as all those who could still move strained to look at the breech in the wall. The corridor behind was littered with prison staff, some bleeding, others with limbs splayed out at unnatural angles. None of them were moving.

In the middle foreground of the extraordinary scene, framed by the newly-smashed hole, stood a girl. A young girl.

Her beauty competed for shock value with the manner of her entrance. She was too perfect to be seen all at once. She could only be scanned, slowly, perfection-by-perfection. Her trainer-clad feet rested amidst piles of fresh rubble. Then came her slender ankles and stunningly shapely bare, flawless legs. These flared into a pair of round, solid-looking thighs which, in turn, disappeared beneath tiny shorts which clung to their wearer's equally tiny waist. Above that, a few inches of immaculate, smooth, flat midriff, containing her deep navel; inviting like a cool dark oasis in the centre of a featureless desert plain.

Then her silky flesh vanished from view under her upper garment, a white spaghetti-strap tank-top that followed the marvellous shape of the body it adorned with impressive accuracy. The material was stretched, almost to tearing, by her two, big, outstandingly proud and firm, exquisitely rounded breasts. Each of these was crowned in its centre by a large, prominent nipple, its outline clearly visible. The top was cut low, and much of the glorious flesh of the upper portions of her chest, not to mention a generous and devastatingly erotic expanse of her cleavage, was on display.

Hard as it was to continue the scan of her beauty thereafter, those that managed saw her slender neck and her beautifully feminine features; two full, sexy lips separated in an ecstatic smile that showcased two rows of dazzling, perfect teeth, an immaculately shaped and proportioned nose and two startlingly bright, green eyes with long thick lashes and subtle, delicately arched brows. The whole, flawless face was crowned and framed by her lustrous hair – dark, long and straight.

Had she not moved, the men in the room might have remained motionless, petrified by her beauty. But she as stepped confidently into the room, the urgency of the situation stirred them into action. "Freeze!" cried one of the prison warders, pointing his pistol at her remarkable face.

"I am here for Richard Jones. Move aside, Earthlings." she replied in a cool, feminine and authoritative voice, her delighted smile constant all the while.

Those words were more than enough of an invitation to the men to open fire on her. The air filled with the sound of shots... and the sounds of ricochets. The girl merely continued to advance towards the chamber. Dozens of bullets struck against her stunning body, yet not one penetrated it. Instead, the pellets bounced from her delectable curves, her flawless features and her slender limbs. If she felt any discomfort, she did not register it on her face, nor did she slow her stride in the slightest.

A couple of warders were cut down by bullets that rebounded from the girl. Her grin suggested she was pleased by manner of their deaths. Two small hands flashed out and simultaneously lifted and threw two more men aside. They impacted high against opposite walls and slid down to the ground never to move again. Her eyes twinkled with delight as they followed the corpses’ final movements.

Panicking at the unfolding events, the prison governor extracted his own pistol and pumped out a few shots in the general direction of the amazing girl.
 
Her hands became a blur for a moment, resolidifying in front of her body, each now holding a slightly squashed bullet which she'd plucked out of the air. Her smile seemed to grow even broader in cruel anticipation as she effortlessly flicked the two bullets, one towards the Governor, the other at the technician. Her twin aims were perfect and deadly. The room fell suddenly silent. The girl’s radiant smile took on an air of arrogant triumph.

She approached the glass-fronted box, thrusting out her fabulous chest and letting her big breasts smash through the front of it. The bullet-proof material seemed to dissolve on contact with her body as she, not slowing, walked right through it. Idly, she brushed a few fragments of glass from her cleavage. She gripped the chair which her target was strapped to and yanked it clear off the floor in a single steel-ripping tug, holding it and the man strapped to it easily in a single hand. Then she carried it back the way she had come, past bodies and smashed walls, out of the prison.



That night, in a deserted car park, she dropped Richard Jones, whom she'd been carrying by the belt like an oversized briefcase, at the feet of his brother. "My fee," she demanded, hand outstretched. Daniel Jones placed a large metal flask onto the small waiting palm. She studied it, as if her eyes and nostrils were penetrating the container …

"A full pint," she pronounced, satisfied. "We are done."   She turned and vanished in a blur.