Make A Break For It

Adrenaline surged through Lois, the old familiar rush of a lead, one part fear and one part excitement. All her senses seemed sharp and alive, and she was hyperalert to every sound, smell, even the position and condition of her own body. The cold, hard metal sensor pressing against her stomach through her shirt. The comfortable chair which hummed from the hidden motors. Women talking, just above the almost subaudible, hypnotic drone talking about bellies, breasts, breeding... and the smell of her own sweat and wet cunt, driving her excitement in a feedback loop.

The more excited Lois became, the more she felt her muscles tense and swell—the artificial steroid venom doing its work. A giddy rush filled the reporter as she heard the women's voices gasp. It was time to act.

There was no roar as Lois leapt from the chair, tearing her eyes away from the dazzle of pink swirling lights. A face rose up before her and the reporter struck, putting all her weight behind it, feeling knuckles crack against a chin, and a woman in a nurse's hospital scrubs was laid out cold on the floor. Two steps away, between Lois and the door, Maria was staring wide-eyed, holding a syringe of some pink fluid in her left hand.

Lois rushed the young woman, bowling her over in a stiff-armed clothesline that sent Maria ass-over-teakettle. A sharp pain stabbed into Lois' thigh, but she disregarded it, moving straight for the exit at a run. She paused for a moment in the doorway, then quickly turned right, back the way she had come. Somewhere behind her, someone yelled for her to stop, but Lois kept moving, the pain in her leg a nagging ache that increased with each step.

In her hurried limping, the reporter missed her turn, ending up in an unfamiliar hallway. She whirled about, trying to get her bearings, and then she heard the familiar peel of an alarm, the ear-piercing siren rising and falling. Panic set Lois' blood pumping faster, pressure building in her temples, heart thumping painfully in her chest...and then Lois spied the fire door, and sprinted for it, ignoring the stabbing pain in her leg.

She hit the door so hard that the hinges cracked, and then Lois was outside, blinking in the darkness of an alley, cool air on her sweat-plastered skin. Looking down, she finally noticed the hypodermic needle sticking out of her right thigh, the pink fluid almost gone. Panting hard, feeling a sick nausea grip her stomach as the adrenaline began to fade, Lois limped deeper in the alley.

I can't run far in this condition, Lois thought. but maybe I can hide, wait for my chance and slip past them...

The limping reporter just rounded the corner when a flash of darkness blocked out the stars overhead. Lois looked up and saw a familiar caped figure descending...