Teen Girl vs Raptor

1 week ago. Secret Military Complex

The floor of a large warehouse is criss crossed with a large network of cables and wires, hooked up to dozens of large computers. Men in white coats scurry back and forth, relying data to each other. A military general walks through the room side by side with a scientist. At the centre of the room is a big chair, surrounded by a glass chamber. Inside is a skinny bald man, writhing, trying in vain to free himself from his manacles. Tubing has been linked up into his arms.

The scientist holds up a clipboard and speaks. “Test subject 32.41.A. Name: Unknown. Age: Tests indicate around 36 years of age. Codename: Raptor. Criminal charged and sentenced to serve 120 years. Twenty five counts of **** and ****. Eight counts of ****.

We will be using the subject to test the chemical substance known as sadisium and its practicality in the field of combat. The subject will be flooded with this chemical and then an electrical charge of 2,450 volts will be administered to the subject, at which point the chemical should react”.

The scientist and general stop several feet in front of the man known as Raptor. A small man in stature, he had been known for preying on young women, often using blunt objects to knock them ****, or using ****, before **** them. He had been in and out of prison on 2 separate occasions – on the 3rd time, the judge had decided he had no more chances left, and would rot in prison until he died. That was 3 years ago.

“If this junk does what you say it can do...” says General Thrawn, a man with a reputation for his instinct and ruthlessness. “Oh, General, I’m sure you’ll find that my chemical compound more than delivers” answers Hoffman, a man with an equally high reputation. Both are the type of men who believe the ends justify the means. The chemical, and the tests on Raptor, are their means.

“Activate the compound. Begin the countdown,” Hoffman yells to his subordinates.

A voice booms from some speakers. “5... 4... 3... 2... 1...”

The chemical, a rusty coloured substance, pumps out into the tubing, and into Raptor’s arms. He squirms uncomfortably, then his eyes shoot open, the chemical causing him some pain. His arms begin flaring a red colour. “Begin the electrical charge!” Yells Hoffman.

Raptor is hit with the **** of the electrocution. His nose and ears bleed, his yell would be heard all over the warehouse if it weren’t for the metal gag in his mouth. The electricity is allowed to course through him for a further 15 seconds before they stop it.

The man falls silent. And then, he is squirming again, his arms growing larger, his whole frame becomes taller. The manacles are no longer large enough to contain his wrists and they burst open like a toy snapping. The metal gag is spat out along with a mouthful of blood. He stands within the glass chamber. What was before a 5’4 man that was little more than skin and bones is now a 7ft giant, his body rippling with muscles.

“Excellent, Hoffman, excellent!” General Thrawn exclaims gleefully. But the big man pounds a fist onto the chamber, shattering it completely. “Hoffman!!!” Thrawn yells. “What?? That chamber was 4 inches thick. I assure you it was created with the utmost care!” Hoffman tries to explain himself even as the newly created behemoth attempts escape from the facility. “A bomb could not have cracked that chamber!”

Soldiers rush into the building as alarms sound. They fire upon the big man, but the bullets simply bounce off him. They might as well be throwing rocks at a wall. Raptor swats them aside. He destroys expensive equipment as he goes, the building catches on fire. He punches a large hole in the building, and runs off into the night.

“Hoffman, you idiot!” Thrawn is furious, Hoffman is dumbfounded. “I did not think the compound would be so powerful within a human test subject. What- what are we going to do now?” “We have to keep a lid on this. We’ll silently track him down and bring him back in”, the General answers.

For the first day of his escape, Raptor is confused, running on instinct, eating from garbage and living under a box in an alley way. His darker urges are ever present, he rapes 3 separate women on the first night. His strength is so great that they die easily, left as corpses with destroyed internal organs, his new girth is massive. The poor women are left busted open like a cannonball hit them. The electrical charge did a real number on his brain – but he heals quickly. By the 2nd day, he has the full faculty of his human brain back. More, even. He robs from a convenience store. He kills the clerk – he didn’t need to, but he did it anyway. In his past life, he was a sad man with no power, who took it out on his victims. But now that he has power, he wields it viciously.

By the end of a week, he pays in cash for an apartment, uses his old contacts to set up a new identity. He knows that he must lay low, that the government will be looking for him. But despite this knowledge and his new found intelligence, he cannot deny his sick instincts. For all of the women that the police knew about, there were hundreds more women he left ruined in his past life. In his new life, he goes out each night, using his new power to rip women apart.

It’s a new day for Megan. The day after her greatest victory – 3 super villains behind bars. She stands in the bathroom and removes her bandages gingerly. She feels around her ribs – no sign of anything broken. She guesses that maybe 3 of her ribs had been broken last night. And now it’s as if the bones mended – not just mended, it’s as if they didn’t break in the first place. But there is still bruising, and some internal pain, enough that it hurts when she walks. Her breasts are bruised, she has a black eye she didn’t notice before that really stings at any touch, although the cuts have mostly healed. At this rate, by the end of the day there would be no sign. She takes off the bandages, and dresses in girly pajamas, her generous breasts are large on her thin frame, cleavage showing at the edge of the tank top, her long soft hair draped over her shoulders. On her way down stairs she almost doubles over. Best to take the day off, she thinks. Her parents had already left. Typical. With everything that has happened, she can’t talk to a single soul. Now even writing it in her diary no longer feels private. And it’s not like she can talk to her parents about much of anything, superheroic or just normal. Sighing, she fixes her breakfast and curls up on the sofa. First thing tomorrow, she will check if Ross has quit his job.

Maybe some research into future superhero activities will take her mind off that slob, and the pain. She reads today’s paper. She discovers a disturbing article about a string of murders over the last few days. All women. The murders have been graphic and grotesque to the point that the article states it can’t reveal all the details. 13 murders in all, mostly prostitutes, this week alone, all believed to have been done by the same group. The police believe it’s a group, because no single person could have committed these acts. The murders have taken place in the same 5 block area of the city, every night of the week.

Even the scarce details are revolting to the teenager. “I have to do something...” But when? Leave it until tomorrow, and surely there will be more victims tonight. “Later, I’ll feel better. My body recovers quickly”, she reasons. She spends a good deal of the day trying to relax. Reading, watching a couple of Miyazaki films, preparing a good meal. She watches the clock, then the sky. It’s getting darker. Almost time.

She goes to her bedroom, undressing, standing naked before her mirror, carefully examining. She's right – there is barely any sign of the previous night left. But through the whole day she had felt occasional dizzy spells. The remnants of a concussion? She can’t be sure – and it’s time to go. She dresses up in her spare costume – much the same as her previous. A dark blue wetsuit, red hot pants, black high heeled boots, and black gloves going up to her elbows. She decides to have her hair down – the luscious black hair falling almost down to her ass. Her costume accentuates her body perfectly – her tan, toned legs on display, her tight ass looking as inviting as ever, her breasts pushed out, her flat toned tummy. She admires herself, then a brief look of shame appears on her pretty face. Ross’s attempt to **** her for his own gratification, this gang of rapists... they’re ruining her sense of sexual empowerment. Is it right to be dressing like this, when trying to clean the streets of this perverted scum? A question for another day. She flies into the night.

She comes to the 5 block area the paper spoke of – by now, surely anyone with a little sense would avoid the place like the plague. Examining the streets as she jumps from rooftop to rooftop, she can see the area has seen better times. Streets littered with garbage, buildings boarded up. It looks like a cesspool, the type of place that breeds criminals. It begins to rain. The moon shines down over a large puddle in the dirt covered street – matching the noir mood of the night perfectly.

A scream. The scream of a woman. Several individuals in the street hear it too, they turn and run in the opposite direction. They’re afraid. Teen Girl flies up, the rain crashing into her face and the wind blowing her long hair. She can see the source of the scream, and almost feels herself retching. Down below in a back alley is the large muscular frame of a bald man, **** a poor middle aged woman. Her screaming is cut off...

A flare of anger floods the veins of Teen Girl – she jumps into the air, and hurls herself with all her strength, planting both feet into the back of this man. In her anger she is careless and forgets her strength – the **** is more than enough to splatter a normal man across the floor of the alley. But this is no normal man. Upon the impact he lurches forward, grunting, but seemingly otherwise unaffected. He spins around. He is large, muscle bound, he sneers at her like a monster.

She doesn’t take the time to register that he withstood her best shot – she charges at him, yelling. He is fast and his arms long – he swats her aside like she is nothing, and she crashes into the wet garbage and filth of large trash cans. It’s at this point she realizes there are more corpses. Three of them – all women. Each of them... it's too much for her mind to take in.

The freak is on her – picking her up in the air by her throat. He slams her into the wet brick, shattering the wall completely “oOOffmff”, she muffles. The interior is the decrepit remnants of a long abandoned apartment. She scrambles to her feet only to receive the back of his fist – the blow draws blood from her bottom lip. Before the **** of the blow sends her backwards, before she can even think to react, the same fist makes a return visit – the front of his fist, colliding with her jaw, “uUungh!” there is a sickening thud as it collides, and the sound of something in her jaw popping. Now she does fly backwards at speed – straight through a wall in the back of the apartment, and into the rain soaked street outside. She clears the rubble off herself, quickly jumping to her feet, the fear and adrenaline and instinct all taking over. She quickly leaps under a car to her left – a convertible. She pushes and strains to lift it overhead, but she does it, she waits for her assailant to show himself through the gap in the wall. Even he would have to feel the effects of a car crashing on his head. She’s ready for him, but then her head – a dizzy spell, the ground is swaying beneath her, she can’t keep her composure, she has to let the car down before she lets it fall on top of herself.

Then, CRACK!! “Yeeaaaghhh!!” A big boot straight into the centre of her slender back, sends her flying across the street and straight into the side of another car. She sits within the large indentation she has created. He walks towards her, grinning, confident. “Nobody ever gave enough of a damn about me to give me a name”, he says, his voice full of evil and spite. “So I decided to earn my name. And I earned it through the fear, the predatory fear that I created in my wake – Raptor!”

She tears a car door off as a large fist comes slamming down ontop of her but its barely enough to shield her, the metal of the door breaking in half. She kicks at his shin, making him stumble momentarily, and she runs just out of reach of his grasp. But one handed, he hurls the entire car at her – the full weight of it crashes into her as she tries in vein to fly out of its way. “AGUHH!” She yelps, crashing to the floor below. Crawling from the wreckage she’s on her knees only to receive the full **** of a right hand punch – a trail of blood falls out of her mouth as the momentum sends her face straight to the dirt ground.

WHOOMPF!! His large boot crashes against the back of her skull, breaking her head against the concrete, pushing it deep inside the floor. He picks her up off the floor by her soaked long hair before delivering a wrenching blow straight into her gut – his fist sinking deep into her stomach. “OOOOFGGGGUrrrNN!!” She spits out a large mouthful of blood, she can feel 2 of her ribs snap, the pain making her wide eyed. No normal girl on Earth could stay conscious with that much pain – but she is not a normal girl. He grips tightly on one of her legs and an arm, spinning her around, before hurtling her lithe body into the air. Like a ragdoll her body crashes off the concrete corner of a building. She can’t regain enough control to fly – she falls 10 feet to the floor. She lies in the rubble of some kind of abandoned factory. Then, she can hear him falling from above.

CRAAAAAAAACK!!! Both feet crash into the small of her back, the concrete floor below them shattering. “YAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!” Her scream is guttural, she is sure that something in her back has broken. He picks her up by her hair once again, there is no mercy in his eyes when a fist collides with her small nose.

His fists are like gun fire – one after another, pounding her pretty face into submission, wack wack wack!! The last sends her sprawling to the floor. She forces herself up onto her feet to her own amazement, throwing a lazy dazed punch into nothing – into thin air. She gets another hellacious blow to her stomach – “Ooompfh!!” She falls to her knees, spitting up some of her own sick. THWACCK!! He delivers a large kick to her face, sending her several feet into the air before crashing down again.

Now she scrambles around like a shot dog, struggling to even get to her knees. He’s walking towards her, slowly, toying with her. “Are you going to grovel?”, he mocks. “I so want to hear you beg”. She picks up a handful of dirt. She struggles to talk through her broken jaw. “...mmmy ffather... used t-to...say... never giiiive UP!” she throws the dirt in his face, momentarily blinding him, before launching herself, she screams a war cry, her right fist launching for the centre of his face.

Her fist makes contact, the hardest punch she can muster, and every bone in her hand shatters. “YAGGGGGGGGGNHAAA!” Her scream is loud. He grips her throat with his left hand. “My, my. I barely even felt that. But you have guts – I admire that. There’s not many women who can muster the strength to fight back against me”.

He sends his right fist reeling into the side of her skull. He releases his grip on her, then his fists fire upon her again – his speed incredible. WOOMF! WACK!! CRACK!! With each blow he draws blood, her head flings backwards, her entire neck twisting as it attempts to follow her head. He picks her up and slams her hard into the dirt.