07-29-2012, 12:59 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-29-2012, 01:02 PM by DragonMasterX.)
So, if anybody's even been regularly checking my stories you'll see lots of them have height increase (to macro proportions more often than not!) that go along the transformation. Not this time, I've gone for something different this time... You be the judge of its quality. And please do leave a comment!
Warning: This story contains transformation, growth, butt expansion and breast expansion. You’ve been warned!
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Amazing Fiction #i, by DragonMasterX.
Mid-Asia, the deserts are known to be inhospitable areas for even the toughest animals, save for those naturally adapted to survive its harsh conditions. But humans have overcome so many obstacles in their path to evolution that creating habitats even in these unforgiving sands proved to be just another stepping stone.
While Charlotte Richards toured the resort village she had been assigned to, her eyes stayed sharp for suspicious behavior, even under the brutal heat she had to. As an agent of a well-known branch of Interpol, she had been personally chosen for this mission given her successful arrest record and high regards from her peers.
The mission went as follows: Apparently a group of bio-chemists had developed a special kind of bacteria with DNA-recombinant properties. ‘Charlie’ wasn’t big on science, but as far as she was concerned the bacteria by itself wasn’t dangerous. However, its unique properties made it excel as a bridging agent for developing other compounds, such as super vaccines. By the same token, though, the research on the bacteria could also be used to produce new kinds of biological weapons that could really bring disaster upon mankind were the aforementioned research fall into the wrong hands.
A hot tip nabbed by the Interpol just in time had placed their watchful eyes and ears over a vein of black market dealings that were supposedly dealing with leaked samples of the bacteria in question, and it was Charlie’s assignment to find, apprehend and search suspects, and upon retrieving the samples, bring them back to use as evidence.
Charlie pulled on the collar of her shirt and sighed. The heat was brutal. Everyone was wearing turbans and loose clothes in order to shield themselves from the unforgiving sun and stay fresh. She wished she hadn’t been assigned to this place. She’d never done well on sand. Unpleasant memories of early years at the beach filled her mind, but she quickly dispelled them and returned her focus back to the mission.
As her eyes scanned over the place a second, then third time, she gave up on this particular area of the resort. The normal market was usually a good place to start investigations on a black market, but everyone was especially clammed up in respect to that.
Charlie was the careful one when questioning civvies but the way they appeared to be pretending they knew nothing of illegal dealings in the area made her curse deep down. Sometimes she wished she could just pull out her gun, flash her ID and take the bad guys back. She felt a drop of sweat roll down from her head down her right cheek and then she let out a depressed sigh. It wasn’t going to be easy this time either.
After some more fruitless legwork, the agent decided to turn back and head to her base, a small and cozy hotel but with excellent location for keeping survey in every direction. Charlie was hungry, so she brought some local food back and after a while decided to lie down for an afternoon nap. Investigations in places with extreme temperatures really drained her, but she had also been awake since way early, and hadn’t had much sleep overnight since she had arrived the night before. She would resume her investigation later…
That night…
Deep inside the local market was a particularly run down shack. Agent Richards had paid special attention to it in case it would reveal to be a way into the black market joint earlier. Upon closer inspection however, one would only see a dilapidated house that screamed to be removed from sight, there was no one inside and that was clear from the get-go once one saw through the empty windows. There really didn’t seem anything particularly out of place about this location, and in the dead of night it was all but blended right in with the rest of the closed-up shops.
With no one snooping around, a pair of men dressed in thick black robes approached this particular shack and knocked on its unhinged door a total of five times. Each knock was done on a different spot on the wood surface, and every knock seemed to emit a different sound in response. When the men had finished knocking, they would step back and the floor before them would begin receding into the ground to reveal a long set of stairs heading into pitch black darkness. A small while after the couple had disappeared into the depths of the strange stairs the ground would once more regain its original shape, and all that was left was that small shack.
Over the course of the night, several other figures dressed in black would approach the shack and repeat that particular knocking ritual, sometimes they came alone, sometimes they came in pairs or trios, but the knocking never changed in style.
Each person outfitted in black would, after ‘entering’ the pass code, gain entrance to the mysterious stairs. After enough descent through what seemed to be a narrow passage downwards in the shape of a spiral, they would then enter a shiny, much wider hall way illuminated by fine candelabras and wall torches made of gold. At the end of the hallway awaited the blinding light of a gigantic four-walled room with a very high ceiling from where even more candelabra decorated and lighted the room at the same time.
Fancy tables were arranged before a large stage, several seats were already taken, but none of the patrons were dressed in black. Their coats and turbans had been removed by the guards at the end of the hallway and put away for their commodity. Faces and membership cards would be double checked to ensure they were in the list of bidders. Cameras were placed everywhere, armed guards stationed at every corner with orders to quickly subdue intruders, making it even harder to gain entrance. No one would be able to sneak past that kind of detection system.
No one, unless one was the date of a patron whose notable purchases had earned him the right of exception. One of those would be Godfrey Smith, an English gentleman known to the public as an incredibly successful man of the business world with some extra karma because of his voluptuous donations to the benefaction. His true passion however was not his line of work nor his supposed golden heart, but more frivolous things such as fine women, wine and just about anything of huge value that others craved.
Tonight was no different for Mr. Smith. He’d heard an especially expensive item had hit the market and as such he felt he had to possess it no matter what. He was going to win no matter what. He always did if the object interested him.
Smith was particularly happy that evening. Not only had he made it to the auction, but by the end of the afternoon he had earned the favor of the lady seated by his side. Her name was Lira apparently, a black-haired beauty dressed elegantly and skimpily at the same time, just as he liked. He had to bring her down just to show off how rich he was, and then after he’d claimed his newest possession he’d also claim her as his. The woman was nice, eager to hear him talk about his incredible victories over the other bidders and the grand amount of treasure or investments he’d earned. She was as elegant as she was sensual and as beautiful as she was smart. So different to the flashy sluts he used to pick up; in fact, she seemed to have been tailored just for him! He had no idea.
The auction soon started. The first few items were common junk in Smith’s eyes, nothing that seemed to interest his date either; which was a pity, he had brought some ‘spare change’ in case he wanted to buy more than just the best item, or treat such a nice lady. As a gentleman he offered to buy her pretty jewels or treasure on display, but she politely declined. She had class, he thought, and it made her even more alluring to him.
Eventually came the item he’d been waiting for. Supposedly it would work as the ultimate investment for his company, and generate enough liquid cash to the point nothing would ever escape his greedy hands. It appeared to be a small vial, described as a powerful chemical compound that had not yet been released by any laboratory, thus it was the opportunity to make a fortune off this enterprise. The starting bid was twenty million. There was no buy-out for it, so it was going to be a tough call.
The first five calls raised the bid to a hundred in less than three minutes. Smith had yet to lift his bidder up. His date eyed him curiously, Lira seemed interested in how he was staring at the item, chuckling at the minimum increases in price. It was all an amusing game to him. A game that Mr. Smith won every single time.
“A thousand million,” the bidder stick of the lady situated three tables over Smith was raised up above. A few gasps resonated throughout the auction house, then silence befell the scene; Lira was intently staring at the English gentleman.
He didn’t know who this woman was, her head concealed by a fine silky cloth, a pair of sunglasses adding to the mystery. Smith scoffed at the insolence, insulted even by the small notion of competition. Those kind of exhilarant bids were his trademark. Lifting his bidder he loudly announced: “Five thousand million.”
The prying eyes jumped from the lone woman to Smith then back to her, feasting on the tension of the apparent bid war that was beginning. No other bidder stick was being raised, but the woman’s did, once again, and she declared: “Ten thousand millions.”
Smith grunted. “The folly!” he thought, taking a big gulp off the glass of fine scotch he’d been having. It was on.
“Twelve thousand million!”
“Fifteen thousand.”
“Twenty thousand!”
“Thirty thousand.”
Eyes bounced like ping pong balls, back and forth between the bidders, the offers by the rich competitors deflating egos and inflating anxiety. Just how high would it go? Was it really worth that much? Everyone knew Smith was a compulsive buyer from his frequent visits, but this mystery woman, a supposed newcomer, it was almost mind-baffling how nobody seemed to recognize her in spite of how much money she boasted to have.
Smith strongly set the empty glass after one last gulp and finally stood up with a loud shout, his face red from both his anger and mild inebriation, “A HUNDRED THOUSAND MILLION!”
The atmosphere suddenly turned even more oppressive. The air was so thick you could slice it with a knife. The surprised peoples’ eyes laid upon the lone female, who seemed to smile as she stood up. She turned in the direction of Mr. Smith and, unexpectedly, took a bow at him, as if revering him. She then proceeded to leave.
Everyone was baffled at this behavior, even the auctioneer who hadn’t even begun counting down, having been expecting yet another table-turn. No one was bidding more either. 100,000,000,000 was many zeroes. Eventually, the auctioneer snapped back to reality as the female finally left and then, at the fall of his hammer, so did everyone snap back.
“A-a hundred thousand m-million…” he repeated, stuttering slightly, “One… two…”
Everyone was holding their breath. Lira looked at Smith’s dumbfounded face with amusement. He hadn’t yet registered what had just happened. Usually when anything like this happened he would have the pleasure of humiliating his competition, yet this woman, someone he’d never seen or heard of before had just pushed him and in the end… politely accepted her defeat? Good-sportsmanship in an auction house? Unheard of!
“Three! Sold to Mr. Smith,” the auctioneer loudly announced. A few claps from some tables sparked a huge applause for the winner. It wasn’t often that Greedy ‘ol Smith, as he was known in this kind of circle, got backed into a corner by a rookie. And the way he showed her! Everyone exploded with both ovation and admiration. Smith only came back to Lira’s tugging of his arm, her soft voice soothing his mind back to normal.
“Very good job, Godfrey, I’m so… impressed,” she sensually smiled as she softly stroked his forearm with her fingers, “And I’m not the only one it seems,” she smirked, her eyes suggesting for him to see the well-known bidders in the house. Eventually, Mr. Smith gathered his composure back and stopped at nothing to brag about his victory, to show off his beautiful woman and to shake a couple of hands until eventually he stepped in to emit a check and pick his item. The vial had, after all, been the last one in display.
“Hm, so tell me more about your spoils, dear,” Lira asked as they left through the same stairs they had come in before, their dark robes concealing them as they walked in the deserted market place.
“Ah, I didn’t take you for an enchanting beauty interested in complex sciences…” Godfrey complimented, before producing the coveted metallic vial containing what would repay his investment and with interest. The container was no longer than a middle finger and no thicker than two of them, there was a transparent spot designed to show the contents; all in all a very mundane container vial, yet the value of it skyrocketed due to its contents. “This right here, my darling, is a very powerful agent capable of synthesizing any kind of advanced compound in half, no, three quarters the time it takes for any other bridging component! And here I’ve the only sample out in the market at this moment,” he proudly smirked, showing the vial to Lira for emphasis.
She seemed not only pleased but almost aroused at his description. Lira stepped forwards, chest pressed against his, she placed her hand on the tip of his pectoral region, looking up at him, “Mm, I like a man with a big… vocabulary,” she cooed, making Smith blush. As he was smitten she reached for the vial to examine it closer in her hands, “So this thing is worth a hundred thousand million… worth every penny, am I right?” she sensually asked, waving the vial in front of the large man, who only nodded at the sexy devil of a woman.
“Yes, now be careful, we don’t want such a valuable container to get…” with him raising his arm he clumsily bumped Lira’s, causing her to drop the vial with a small whimper, “Ah! Don’t worry, my dear. The vial is strong enough to withstand that. It was my fault, allow me…” he said, about to reach for the treasured item before she stopped him.
“Please, Godfrey, it was my fault, let me,” Lira said, “Plus it seems like you’re… distracted tonight,” she smirked a bit, the almost half-bent man’s face quite next to her defined chest. The robes were tight enough to mark her breasts. He instantly stood up in order to not seem like a pervert old man and waited, looking elsewhere. Lira giggled and went down to pick up the object by her feet. She then grabbed Smith’s hand, placed it on his hands and gave him a playful bump with her hips, “Come now, Godfrey. I was only joking…” she grinned, “Let’s go to your place, mm?” she pressed her rouge lips to his cheek and kissed.
After being urged to safely put the vial away in his pocket, the couple headed on to Smith’s luxurious hotel to spend the night together…
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Smith woke up as the first ray of morning sun hit his face. He felt at a loss, holding by his head. He didn’t remember much of last night bar the victory over that cocky newbie back at the auction house. As he sat up on the king sized bed he attempted to collect his memories of the night before, but his thoughts stopped at his arrival in the hotel and the subsequent heavy drinking he’d undergone with. “Ow, my poor head… I must’ve drunk too much…” he sighed, shaking his head for clarity as he attempted to remember more. Come to think of it, he’d come to the hotel with someone, hadn’t he…? But Smith was alone in his bed, no one by his side.
He looked around for any indication of company, but it was just his own belongings there. He looked again, nothing. Eventually, he gave up and stood up, headed for his bathroom and tried drinking some cold water in order to get rid of the pounding headache result from the hangover. Smith inspected his face… that’s when he noticed something on his cheek. He felt it to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, but he was sure about it: rouge lipstick. It all quickly came back to him. That woman he’d picked up a couple hours before he left for the auction, her name, everything she’d asked of him. His eyes widened.
Out of fear, he ran right back to the bedroom and jumped over the bed to the sprawled black robe by the night table. He desperately reached into the pocket of the robes and slowly fell to the mattress, relieved to be holding the vial in his hand. Smith rolled it over his palm in order to make sure it was the genuine article, and sure enough it felt just as the vial he’d purchased on the day before, but something was wrong… Something definitely felt wrong about it.
And then he noticed it after looking through the display on the vial. The liquid holding the bacteria, it wasn’t transparent the night before. He was sure of it. And now he was sure his fears hadn’t been unfounded. “Curses, but when did she?!” he grunted, reminding himself of when she had dropped the vial, she must’ve been carrying a spare and switched it when he wasn’t looking!
Quickly, an enraged Godfrey Smith began dialing phone numbers and barking orders as fast as you could imagine. The only airport out of this desert was a couple of miles away from this resort and vehicles were unsuitable for travelling between the airport and there. That wench would need to leave in one of the caravans and they did not leave until eight in the morning. He was going to stop each and every caravan if he had to, and search them all if necessary to get his investment back.
That bitch would pay, too. As he closed the phone, he hurled it against the wall in a fit of rage, fortunately the material of his cell phone made it impervious to moderate impacts. He growled, “No one messes with me. I don’t know who she thinks she is, but no one crosses me.”
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Charlie was hiding in an alley. Her raven hair a mess and the make up she’d been using the night before was all scurried. She’d no time to take a shower after spending the whole night trying to get Smith drunk so she could put him in bed and leave. She was glad she’d had the time to change though, that dress she’d put on in order to seduce the man had been murder on her waist; she was fit, but the corset she had to wear underneath had been a real pain.
As she produced the vial with the bacteria however, she thought: “It was worth it,” with a smile. All she had to do is use the time she’d bought herself with the alcohol on the old man and then make a run for it to the airport, the rendezvous point. With some luck, Smith would sleep the booze off his system until it was too late. She’d been hoping for too much however.
“Empty your cargo.” Armed guards stood by the caravans, groups of two per transport, all of them thoroughly checking for the described female and the missing item. Threatened by the firearms both the patrons and the drivers complied.
Charlie watched with a frown, hoping she could somehow exploit an opening and make a break for it in an unbothered transport. She lay in wait, keeping out of sight, watching intently…
“Now, empty your pockets!” one of the guards yelled. The mother of the child he was staring down walked in front of her little one defensively before the guard could seize him. “You’re in the way, woman!”
“Mommy, I’m scared!”
“Can’t you see he’s terrified? I won’t let you lay a hand on him!”
“We’ve no intention of killing anybody, but I’ll rough you up if we have to!” the guard barked, “Now empty your pockets.”
“He only has toys and candy I bought for him, for the love of god he’s only seven years old. What could he possibly have that YOU want?!”
“That’s of no concern to you. What we’re looking for may’ve been passed along, and if we don’t get it our boss’s gonna be angry with us, and that’s enough for me to get this done as quick as possible!”
“Bastards,” Charlie muttered as she witnessed the commotion. “Smith probably paid them pure gold to get this back. These goons are probably willing to kill to get it back even if they said they wouldn’t…” she groaned, her priorities starting to confuse.
“How about you help us make it quick? That way I won’t have to get rough with a woman and a kid.”
The woman seemed shaken, but the guns in the guard’s hands made her resolve in favor of their lives. “Thomas, please… show them what I bought you earlier,” she said.
Thomas was still frightened, yet with his mother backing him up he felt like he could stand up to the situation. Reaching down to his robe’s pockets he pulled out a bag with artisan-quality sweets and a small silver-plated vial-shaped object. The guard’s eyebrows lifted above his shades, then suddenly he seized the container from the young boy’s little hands. Thomas cried out: “Wait! That’s mine!”
“This… it fits the description,” the guard observed the silver object from every angle. The design was perfect, even if it smelled sweet. There even was a see-through section on the vial with blue liquid inside. “We’ll be confiscating this. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Wait, I said it’s mine!” the child insisted even as the guard nonchalantly turned his back to leave. His mother tried to hold him but the angry kid broke free. Charlie widened her eyes as she saw him strike out and kick the guard in the shins. “Meanie!” he yelled.
The guard winced loudly, having been taken by surprise, the vial flying from his hands and crashing against a stand. Everyone gasped as the sound of the vial bursting and its contents spilling all over the wooden stand elicited a big “No!” from the kneeling guard.
The rest of the guards converged on his location, asking questions and receiving the saddened explanation their target had just been destroyed. One of them left and examined the spot where the vial had burst and upon getting next to it his eyes closed and he braced himself instinctively. “Phew! Man this is some sweet odor. It’s pungent!”
“Sweet odor?” the captain of the group grunted, “The target’s contains odorless substance.”
“What?” the kneeling guard’s jaw dropped in disbelief, “So what was I…?”
“Stealing? My son’s candy, jerk!” the mother quickly went to grab Thomas, cradling him in her arms. “The nerve of some people, stealing a kid’s candy!”
“Phhth!” the kid flagrantly stuck his tongue out at the dumbfounded guard. He was about to get up and go show them a thing or two before their captain stopped him.
“It’s no use, Zeng. We’ve already covered this one. Keep going, and this time make sure you don’t throw out fake alarms.”
With that, Zeng and the rest of the guards went back to their mission, allowing the clean chariots to leave unbothered.
Thomas and her mother made it into their own, and as soon as they found a spot next to a concealed person. The child took out his bag of sweets and began eating with a grumpy look on his face, his mother just glad they had avoided any further conflict. The person beneath them looked down at Thomas and whispered: “Hey kid,” to get Thomas’s attention. “Good kick,” the female said with a light, amused tone in her voice.
“I fight bad guys like that aaaall the time!” the kid bluffed with a proud grin, then offered a candy to his new admirer. She smiled through her muffler and then peered outside through the chariot’s windows. Mr. Smith would have to hope for his bank to reject that check in time, because the slippery agent had just made off with his hard earned prize.
The man himself sat at his hotel room at that moment, thinking hard on how he had deceived himself, and how eager he was to have that woman with her neck surrounded by his hands. He patiently awaited for news until the captain of his enforcers finally showed up. The fellow appeared nervous as if to deliver bad news. “Don’t give up, Captain,” the robust millionaire grunted, not even needing the captain to say a single word to know what had happened. Or rather, what hadn’t. “Stop that caravan.”
“But sir, we’ve searched each and all of them and no one had…”
“You don’t understand, do you? She’s a slippery one, that woman,” Mr. Smith balled up a fast, clutching his fingers together as if in deep anger and humiliation, “This caravan is her only option out. The next one leaves tomorrow, and no one would overstay their welcome like this. Do as I say, man!”
“What if they resist? Sir the tourists were restless at first.”
“Fool! Don’t talk back to me like that, you’re on my payroll, and I OWN this little resort. Now do as I say, and take EVERY precaution necessary to get my investment back. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Now go! Stop wasting time.”
Mr. Smith was red with anger, but he trusted his men.
Only ten minutes of nonstop order barking from the Captain, the guard under Smith’s payroll began gathering in large sand buggies, loaded with weapons on mercy bullets that would be shot if deemed necessary. Two buggies left with the forces. Their target remained unchanged, but their methods had been authorized to become much more forceful.
Unaware of this, the passengers of the desert caravan blissfully continued their ride to the airport, Charlie included. She had mostly kept to herself, only taking quick glances to her PDA. “Shoot, I’m on time but while I slipped through in here during that confusion earlier I forgot to send my message to HQ, and there’s no reception in the middle of nowhere… Well, they should be set for picking me up as soon as I get there,” she mused, looking out of the window as if it was a habit. There was something about the clear skies that always put her at ease even during the most anxious moments.
Agent Richards’s anxiety however would peak if she knew she was being followed. The sand buggies with Smith’s goons were rapidly catching up, and soon enough, one of the passengers noticed the jolly bunch approaching them. “Hey look, dune riders!” one passenger exclaimed.
Another one joined them on the window and added: “That’s awesome, but was there a sand buggy rental shop back at the resort?”
Her interest piqued, Charlie glanced down and her eyes widened as she noticed who were driving the approaching buggies. “Damnit! I might’ve let one of them see my face back then…” she cursed under her breath, standing up and looking around for anything that might help her. She had, after all, only brought a concealed small caliber gun in case she ran into the kind of trouble she could deal with. Charlie hadn’t counted with ten men rushing her vehicles!
There was nothing she could do without giving away her identity. She ran out of time to think of a plan and eventually she decided to allow things to play out. The buggies passed her chariot and went ahead to press the leading one in order to have them all stop at once. As the chariots came to a halt, the passengers became restless. “Why are we stopping?” “What’s going on?”
Those questions and more were answered as the reasons climbed down of their own vehicles. The armed guards began to approach the chariots and this time, without even asking, began to throw people out, forcing them down on their knees. Each and every man, woman or children had their turban removed, their face double and triple checked, and their belongings meticulously registered. This time however, no one would leave until everyone was rounded up.
Before, the operation had been under the cover that an illegal object was being smuggled out of the country. Now, they hadn’t even explained a thing. This caused even more unrest for the tourists, who eventually began to rise up. The first person that did, however…
“We already cooperated. I demand there to be an immediate stop to this bullshit! We have our rights, don’t we?!” the angry tourist shouted, but before he could even see it, the guard he had been yelling to pointed his rifle at his chest and pulled the trigger. The force of the mercy bullet being propelled out of the gun’s barrel was enough to knock the air out of the poor man who slumped on his knees, clutching his stomach in pain and then finally collapsed, unconscious, not that anyone knew that was the case. With that, silence began to pervade the area, everyone simply stared, and the guards continued their search.
“Anyone else would like me to read their rights?” the guard asked without even looking at the terrified eyes of the passengers.
“He killed him!” a woman yelled out.
“Let me at ‘em, mommy!” young Thomas said from far back, but this time the over worried mother clutched her arms around her son tightly, unwilling to let go.
Charlie swallowed. “I can’t allow these people to be involved anymore… this is Interpol’s deal. I might’ve been sent on this mission but its importance can’t come before the well being of these people,” she told herself, almost regretting how she had allowed fate to resolve her issues before. But now, things were quickly escalating out of hand. Her conscience got the better of her.
She was trained in martial arts and high discipline for Close-Quarters Combat, but she couldn’t take out 10 armed men so easily. She couldn’t break out her weapon and go gun-ho either, as the crossfire would put all the civilians in danger. Charlie was certainly in a pickle. “If this doesn’t work, well… Guess I’ll be bouncing unwanted people off that pretty bar up the sky,” she gulped.
With her resolve to save people and her mission at the same time set, Charlie walled herself against the long queue of chariots and began to sneakily make her way to the sand buggies. Fortunately the groups of people had been rounded up and were making a line on one side. Thanks to that she had an easy break making it to the first chariot. Now came the hard part.
She peeked out of cover and made sure there wasn’t anyone looking her way before she managed to skip undetected to the side of the buggy. One of the camels pulling the carriages snorted at that moment, which turned the attention of one of the soldiers, but fortunately Charlie had already made it. That didn’t make it any easier for her as she silently cursed at the animal, but then she glanced at the panel of the buggy and allowed her a smile. “Idiots.”
Agent Richards took a deep breath and then finally jumped onto the vehicle. She turned the key and was relieved that the engine roared to life almost immediately. This turned the attention of at least six guards, but before they could say anything Charlie stepped on the gas, “That one’s trying to get away! After them! We have to…” but before they could finish, the dusty cloud Charlie purposely kicked up blinded them. “Shoot! Shoot damnit!”
They began unloading mercy bullets, but they were highly ineffectual against the plating of the sand buggy. They didn’t even do anything to the tires! “Wong, you guys stay here,” the Captain said to five of his soldiers. Hurrying to the remaining buggy, he brought the engine to life, “The rest of you, come with me! We have a rat to catch.”
Charlie looked at the panel. The speed-o-meter wasn’t going higher than a hundred and twenty kilometers. “Damnit!” she said as she noticed the speeding image on her buggy’s retro visor, “I should’ve sabotaged that one before leaving. This is gonna get rough… Ahh!” she shrieked as a bullet collided against the windshield, shattering it. “The ones before weren’t making a dent because they were mercy bullets, they must’ve switched! Oh goodie!” she sarcastically said.
“I’ve to get to the airport, that’s the only way to contact HQ. I’m on my own out here!” her mind told her, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate both on driving and making sure she was also moving erratically to avoid giving them a clear shot.
“Fools! Do I have to do everything by myself?” The captain growled, switching the driver’s seat with one of his guards, taking his rifle as well. He began to aim.
Charlie became slightly relieved when she began to distinguish the airport not too far away from her current position. She hit the gas as hard as she could, attempting to make it. She also slipped her hand into her robes, using a free hand to quickly dial to HQ, hoping to get signal now that she was nearby. “Yes! I’m getting reception! Finally,” she grinned a bit, but that moment of leisure was one she would soon regret as she heard a loud bang followed by an ominous hissing. “The tank!” she gasped, making a desperate swerve as the next bullet caused one of the rear tires to blow up. “Damnit! I’m losing control!” she gasped, “But I’m so near!”
The buggy was losing speed, and Charlie’s heart was racing as consequence, knowing the leaked gas might ignite with even the slightest spark and send her with a one-way ticket to hell. “But the bacteria… they can’t have it!” she gasped, then as she began noticing a nearby tall rock formation she devised a plan. Maybe her last one.
“Look captain! They’re going off-track! Headed to…”
“No! They’re going to commit suicide! We can’t have the target destroyed with them! GET GOING MAN!”
“It’s as fast as it’s going to get, Cap!”
“D-dang… gotta time it just right…” Charlie fearfully held onto the wheel and forced her foot down on the pedal. The engine let out a small groan as nearly all its fuel had been depleted already. Her persecutors had almost caught up with her too! She was about to make one last swerve before the Captain lined up a last hopeful shot and managed to shoot Charlie in her arm, making her yelp out and also lose focus. Blood gushed from the wound, but Charlie couldn’t allow herself to fail now! She made the swerve just as she had intended… and crashed the side of her buggy on the formations, jumping off at the last moment.
The vehicle exploded against the rocks. The Captain’s buggy came to an abrupt stop a mere 30ft away. The blast blocked the view of everything, even of its driver. There was a minor quake as the force of the explosion cleared some natural supports for the spot, causing the sand to collapse into what seemed to be an all-devouring hole. Rock and smoking debris started falling into the broadening hole that seemed to consume everything.
The goons looked on as the pit widened broader and broader, stopping barely 10ft away from them. “Holy… didja look at that? No way they survived that explosion!” one of the men exclaimed. The Captain was mainly silent, staring at the smoking pit of sand with glaring eyes, as if entirely convinced of the opposite his men had. “Search that pit. We’ll take no chances.”
“We’ll need some rope and a hook. Check the compartments. Hurry up!”
But even as Smith’s agents prepared, they would’ve never been able to foresee what was going on below. The debris had fallen into the sandy abyss but it was by no means endless. A short distance below, the Interpol agent known as Charlie was barely hanging on to life. She was both hurt and confused, her muffler burned off in the explosion, somehow her face had only received minor, stinging burns, the rest of her clothes in bad shape but nothing one couldn’t fix with enough silk. Charlie quickly fished into her robes, her PDA was destroyed, but the vial with the coveted bacteria was without harm, “Tough… little bastard, aint’cha?”
She had miraculously survived the intentional car crash, but she had lost blood from the gunshot wound on her right arm. “Can’t… close eyes. Must… stay awake…” she told herself sternly. This had been some divine providence or something to her. She was alive, alone, and had a chance at escaping. “Where…?” her tired eyes glanced around as she somehow managed to get up on her knees, “A subterranean tunnel- under the desert?” she mused, finally able to stand on her two feet, clutching her sore arm hard as she flinched from the pain. “Ahh! Nggh… Wasn’t too far away from the airport… Maybe I can make it there, somehow.”
Before she could make more than a few dozen feet in distance however, she began hearing the ceiling rattle. Charlie cursed herself, thinking the earlier blast must’ve upset the entire cavern. She couldn’t bring herself down with pessimist predictions however. The rattling insisted, and she couldn’t help but to stop and observe as an intricate set of holes began appearing above her. Charlie narrowed her eyes, trying to make out what was happening, since the holes were too small, and too few in number to signify a cave in. Suddenly one of them abruptly widened and an object fell through, landing on her forehead.
Charlie froze, gulping. She felt the object move on top of her head. It was big, and she couldn’t see it thanks to the position; it was crawling however, with eight disgusting legs, and it was starting to make her legs weak. “O-off… off…” she muttered, before a second creature descended onto her arm, “GET OFF ME!” she screamed as she noticed the creatures falling were big types of black desert scorpions that she’d never seen before in her life. And they were angry, as if disturbed from someone making a ruckus. Charlie shook around as fast as she could, but the scorpions continued to rain down on her from the ceiling.
“Ahhh! Noo! Stop it, stop it!” she began struggling, flailing her arms as attempted to throw the arachnids off her. The scorpions, now feeling threatened, began to attack with their stingers, which Charlie narrowly avoided by pushing them off her limbs and head, swatting them off as if they were oversized ants crawling on her skin. But in her haste she forgot to check below, where another scorpion was emerging, equally disturbed by her screaming and dancing on his home. Angry and annoyed at the same time, the creature climbed onto the girl’s footwear and in an effort to get rid of the intruder drove its venomous stinger into her leg. The pointy tip was strong enough to penetrate human skin, and as a result it injected the venom into Charlie’s bloodstream.
The intrusion of the stinger was, by all means, like an annoying sting to Charlie, who immediately lost her balance as she realized she’d been stung. “Ahhh!” she cried out, knowing that there were certain types of scorpions who carried toxins deadly to even humans. “F-fuck, get off, get off! Nngh!” she fought to get all of them off, falling from the loss of balance and the lack of energy. Charlie had no idea what she would do now that she was not only crippled but also stung, “D-damn… can’t… allow this… to stop me…” she gasped, feeling her legs go numb, and the rest of her body followed suit as the neurotoxin worked to paralyze her.
Satisfied, the victorious scorpion and his brethren prepared to feast upon the giant source of food, conglomerating upon their paralyzed prey. They were about to start feasting immediately, but suddenly they all scattered at once, leaving the crippled woman to her own devices.
Charlie was feeling drowsy. While not strong enough to induce unconsciousness, the venom had worked to its intended purpose and her locomotive system wouldn’t respond to her brain’s commands. She could move her eyes and see, but she couldn’t speak, only breath. Her body felt increasingly weaker, unable to cope with the loss of blood. She was slowly slipping away, but then a blinding light covered her and a strange sound akin to that of a drum kept ringing in her head. Somebody was approaching her, they seemed to be alone.
--------------------
Three of the guards under the Captain’s had made it down to the underground tunnels. They were surprised to find no corpse, not even any sort of remains after searching through the debris. The Captain was still unconvinced, and sent them further along the maze. They weren’t making good progress. The farther they went in, the more they realized the tunnels kept forking and splitting; it was like a massive natural labyrinth. “We ain’t gonna find nobody in here man. Better head back and tell the Cap we found nothing… ‘cause that’s the truth!”
“What’s the use? Boss man has the Cap overclocked. We go back there and he’ll kick us down here again. We either find that suicidal sod or any proof they were successful in buying the farm or we’ll be stuck here ‘til X-mas I tell ya.”
But even as they worked to find who was nowhere in vicinity, the person responsible for their target’s disappearance was carrying Charlie to their safe abode.
“You’re in a pretty rough shape,” the voice of a middle-aged man was the last thing Charlie heard before her eyes closed and she finally lost consciousness. “Well, don’t know who you are or where you come from; heck, why the hell you were down here at all, but I’d be a really bad practitioner if I didn’t treat you.”
The man carried his guest through a metal door that opened with simple set of everyday keys. Walking through the door the resident of the apparently desolate sandy tomb entered into his abode. The self-referred practitioner placed the bruised Charlie upon a metal table that sat in the middle of the large room. If she’d been awake, Charlie would’ve found what seemed to be an underground hall filled with a plethora of medical and scientific equipment, their purpose unknown, but their technology very much to date.
“Now, what do we have here?” the man carefully observed Charlie’s unconscious form, noticing her bleeding arm first, and a red swelling spot on her right leg. “A bullet wound… Whoever you are, someone didn’t like you, eh?” he said to his slumbering patient, expecting no reply. His eyes went down and he grabbed Charlie’s leg, “Nice legs,” he commented, “But I think they can do without the high amount of black scorpion venom they’ve been pumped with… I better get to work.”
The mystery man proceeded to treat Charlie with near unparalleled speed. Even if alone, the man behaved like a professional surgeon capable of operating individually. After preparing his instruments and respective containers, the practitioner began his operation. Charlie would feel nothing thankfully, but the doctor had to extract the bullet and disinfect the open wound in order to prevent infection. The blood loss had been considerable, but the vitals seemed strong on the machine the man was using to monitor his patient. “She must be a fighter… Good for her, I hate dealing with corpses,” he jokingly told himself, and continued his work.
After a while, Charlie’s arm was sutured and her wound was due to heal. The medical expert began the second treatment, which was to purge the venom out of her system. She would need to receive a blood transfusion plus the antidote to the venom if she’d ever want to walk again.
“Done… You’re still stable, but you need that blood transfusion soon,” he said out loud. It was risky to transfuse while he hadn’t yet fabricated or administered a serum to block out the venom’s effects, but if he didn’t give her blood the nutrients and oxygen would be delayed from reaching vital organs. Charlie had no chance if he began working on a cure right now without giving her fresh red cells first. “Any doctor would declare you clinically dead right now. They’d never attempt to do what I’m about to do…” Guessing at blood types was nothing one could effectively do, but the man was ready with his equipment to tell what Charlie’s was after a simple test. A bag was prepared with fresh blood from a container and he proceeded to begin the transfusion. The vitals took a while to begin raising, but the biggest danger had passed. “Good thing I never received my doctorate.”
“Now let’s see what… oh!” The practitioner gasped as he was making sure Charlie was in a comfortable position and clumsily knocked something off her. He quickly crouched and picked up the dropped object, “Hmm? Is this a vial?” he looked down intently, as if trying to take a guess of what was inside. “Well well, what have we here…?”
A minute of mesmerizing himself was all the man needed to realize he was getting nowhere by wasting time. “I can find out later. Must engineer that cure,” he said, but before beginning he carefully undid the lid to the vial and used a syringe to extract a few cubic centimeters of the blue liquid. He put half of it on a sampler and set it on his compound analyzing machine, then went off to a different part of his underground laboratory to get to work on the actual job.
Half an hour later, the scientist was finally done with the batch of the antidote. The compound was a lite blue in color and that meant he had been successful. “Ahhh. Got to say, you’re one tough customer lady, but you sure give a man reason to push his limits! This should’ve taken me two hours,” he laughed a bit, knowing he wouldn’t receive any sort of response from the sleeping girl.
At that same time, a ping from the machine on the far side of the room alerted the mysterious middle aged man, who just couldn’t resist his curiosity. “Well mon petit, you’ll have to forgive me. You can wait a couple minutes longer right? After all I’m doing this free of charge!” he chuckled, sliding with his wheeled chair over to the compound analyzer. He set the syringe with the antidote on the tray next to another syringe and started peeking into the microscope attached to the machine. Scheme-quality feeds and other scientific gibberish started appearing in front of the medical expert, work of his highly advanced lenses which allowed him to both observe and scan compounds at the same time. “This…” he was left speechless. He gasped and looked back at his slumbering patient, “Why were you carrying this?” he grunted suddenly. “The Recombinator. Schmidt’s work… It’s the genuine article. The protein links are perfect, the bonds are entirely malleable, it’s… it’s beautiful…” he trailed off, so distracted in his observation to realize what was happening near the entrance to his lab.
“Hey, ah found somethin’! Look’it dis ‘ere door!” one of the American goons yelled, his gun pointing at a metal door at the end of one of the many tunnels they’d been through. “Bet’cha it’s the exit. In yer ugly mug, Feng!”
“It’s Zeng. Now get out of the way!” the Chinese guard angrily said, pushing his fellow guard before heading over to the metal door. He was surprised to see the rim of the door gleaming with a bit of light. “Whoever lives in here doesn’t count on guests, huh. Time to show them they need to be prepared for any surprise visit.”
The three armed guards busted into the practitioner’s lab, surprising the unarmed man, who turned around and instinctively lifted his hands in surprise. “Mon dieu… What are you gentlemen doing here?”
“Hmm, she could be who we’re looking for. Search her, Maxwells,” Zeng told to the American, moving over to the startled scientist, “Who are you? Where are we?”
“Oh, I’d be no one if by association you’re asking for my profession, mon frère! I’d just be an observer of the world and its natural order!”
Weirded out by the man’s flamboyant words, Zeng just shook his head and uttered “Just your name will do.”
“Pierre! Oh, are you by chance lost?” the jolly one answered and asked at the same time, getting off his chair and approaching the asian, “There’s an exit up there. I usually help people who get trapped in the- how do you call them? Sand vortexes! Hmm, the quicksand! Oui.”
“No quicksand, old man. Just some crazy woman running off with something that didn’t belong to her.” Zeng was losing his patience. He turned around and looked at his partners sternly, “Well?”
“The chick’s empty, Feng,” Maxwells said, “Fits da descripts boss man gave us ‘tho. Ah say we take her anyway!”
“What? Non non, unacceptable! I can’t allow you to remove my patient yet. She’s just survived a bullet wound and I was about to cure her toxin ailed body!” Pierre objected loudly. Zeng turned around and pointed the barrel of his gun right under the medic’s chin.
“Bullet wound, you say?” he asked, getting a quick, exaggerated series of nods from Pierre. Zeng turned once again to look at the female’s arm, noticing a sutured wound where their Captain had sniped the arm of their target, “It’s her alright. We’re taking her.”
“B-but, the toxin! She will never again be able to move if I don’t inject the cure… s’il vous plaît!”
“You might be in cahoots with her, no go, doc.”
“Ahh, no need to call me that, after all I’ve never…”
“Save it! Where is the cure?” Zeng impatiently barked.
“Feng what da heck man? Why we curin’ the broad?”
“The Captain told us she was expendable, but the Boss has a beef with her. A personal beef. Don’t you see? We can get a big, fat bonus if we deliver her just as she escaped him. He’ll want to put his fat british hands on this woman.”
“Ah like how yer thinkin’ cap’s workin’,” Maxwells grinned.
“It’s on that tray… take the lite blue syringe and just inject her right arm with it. Please do be careful not to inject the-”
“Jus’ the blue syringe eh? No big deal! Hoooh? Hey Feng, look’it what ah found!” Maxwells said, shaking the silver vial in his fingers as it had been left on the table.
“So that is what we’ve been looking for eh. Here’s hoping it’s not stupid kid candy again… Go on and give her the cure, man!”
“Yeah yeah, blue syringe…” Maxwells looked down at the tray with two syringes. He took the blue one and went by the metal table where Charlie lie asleep. “Right arm right doc?”
“Indeedly so! Just be sure to apply proper disinfectant after…”
“Quiet!” Zeng growled again. Pierre fell silent but then noticed from afar that the syringe Maxwells was pressing against his patient’s arm only had half the dose he had filled it with. From a distance it couldn’t quite be told apart, but the color didn’t matter to Pierre. There was only one other syringe in use that wasn’t the antidote.
“Non! Non non, you must desist! Do not inject that syringe!”
“Say wha?” Maxwells blinked, he already was pumping the blue solution into Charlie.
“Mon dieu! You nincompoop! I said lite-blue!”
“Whut’s the difference? You said blue, there were two blues.”
“Mindless brute, you’ve injected the wrong one! Surely you’ve killed the poor girl!” Pierre exclaimed.
“First ah hear of an antidote that kills patients. Ya sure yer a doctor mate?”
“Maxwells, you better not have snuffed her, because I’d been expecting a bonus after this trek!” Zeng groaned, looking at the slumbering patient. Pierre fearfully looked at the vitals scanner, but was surprised to see vitals raising instead of dropping.
Unaware to anybody in that room, there was something going on inside of Charlie, something unnatural, something which hadn’t been planned by none of the men inside that room. Charlie’s toxic blood was on a sub-level of being fatal to her nervous system, the antidote had been made in order to purge the residuals, but no antidote had been administered to the female.
Instead, there was something else working in her body now. The recombinator bacteria was running rampant within a human being’s body, assimilating tissue and reworking it to the genetic level, harmonizing protein chains and optimizing the performance of all the cells in Charlie’s body. The venom was meant to be repelled, but its negative properties had been recycled by the bacteria working at uncanny speed, breaking apart the basic components of the toxin’s compounds and reworking them to not only not damage Charlie’s body but to mix with it down with her own genetic pattern.
Nobody was aware any of this was happening, and nobody, not even Pierre, would’ve been able to guess what was about to happen. The vitals scanner seemed to stabilize finally after a peak in heartbeat rate before Charlie’s eyes suddenly opened wide and she let out a loud gasp, taking in a generous gulp of much needed air. Three rifles pointed her way as soon as her vision cleared and she realized she wasn’t in the arachnid nightmare her brain had machinated for her during her sleep.
“Bad day, bad day, bad day,” Charlie told herself in defeat as she glanced left and right, even behind. She was surrounded!
“Oh merci! Merci the heavens, merci mon dieu! The lady lives! It’s… how do you call it? A miracle!” Pierre cheerfully exclaimed, although no one else joined in the festivities.
“Good, now I don’t have a reason to shoot a hole through your head Maxwells,” Zeng merely smirked.
“Bah, who needs dem quack doctors. Call me Doc Max from now on, Feng! Way bettah than dis one,” he swung his arm in victory, his rifle accidentally knocking down a small metal backpack that crashed loudly against the ground, which set in on. Suddenly a small drum-like sound started beating with a certain rhythm. It was nothing special, it just seemed to loop the same tune again and again without change. “Whoops. Mah bad, doc.”
“Oww, my head…” Charlie groaned slightly as she noticed the more she focused her hearing into the rhythm the worse it felt for her. “Shut that thing off!” she suddenly shouted, the headache only making her feel more aggressive, as if wanting to either crush what was making that sound or run away from its source.
Pierre’s eyes widened, “That’s… not possible, that gadget uses a certain sound frequency which only arachnids are susceptible to… It shouldn’t work on humans unless…” his train of thought suddenly stopped, his jaw dropped, and he just couldn’t begin to put together anymore words.
Charlie continued to scream, holding by her head. The pain was unbearable. She felt herself leap forwards at Maxwells.
“Oh, so you want sum, bitch? C’mon then, I ain’t afraid of no dumb broad!” the confident man said, ready to punch the stuffing out of the aggressive girl, but she ducked right before his fist could connect with her. This act alone sent everyone into a trance as they watched Charlie move too fast for them to make sense of how she had managed to duck after she had dove with such momentum at the large man. In fact, Maxwells hadn’t been Charlie’s target. She balled her fists and suddenly drove them down like a gorilla would when wanting to smash a particularly tough coconut, and like a coconut smashed by a gorilla the gadget on the floor was reduced to a pile of scrap and debris.
With that display of brute strength, even Maxwells was left speechless. But the silence was cut short as Charlie grabbed herself by the head and began thrashing around. “Grrr!” she growled in pain, screaming. The pain was slowly leaving her head but now it was spreading all over her body! It wasn’t the sharp pain anyone would expect however, instead of sharp pain stemming from an internal wound this was more of an annoyance, a constant subtle pounding, a tickling in her insides. Something that Charlie had no control of was happening within her, and she wanted it out! She was irritated, she had to get out!
Taking the time to look at a set of stairs going up she didn’t even stop to ask, she just with uncanny agility over the large man blocking her path and began running out of the lab, paying no heed to any of the men, savior or persecutors. Their daze finally broken by her escape, Zeng ordered Maxwells and Jacks to give chase. “We can’t let her escape, not now!”
But Charlie had no plans of staying behind. She felt cramped even though the place was humongous in scope, she was able to fully exert newfound agility and strength as well as speed. She felt good when she ran, jumped, bounced off the many walls. It felt amazing, as if she was drawing power and energy from some untapped well within herself! But she still wanted out. The cozy madeshift living room she had made it out to wasn’t enough for her.
Wanting to escape through the nearest door she found, Charlie didn’t notice, or didn’t care, that as soon as she pulled the locked metal door in her way, the raw strength coming out and into her arm was just enough to pull the door off its hinges. Unaware or uncaring, she flung the door away as if it was a baseball bat held by the batter who just hit a home-run, and just like one she began making the speediest run of her life, her destination: freedom.
But as Charlie made it into one the darkest, dampest caves she’d ever seen before, she realized something. At the end of the tunnel she saw light, and her eyes weren’t agreeing with it. She had to stay in this cave, where it was nice and cozy, where she had room to move and do as she wished, but she didn’t want the light. It wasn’t hurting her, but there was this new feeling of preference which made her feel attached with the sight.
“What the hell? She forced a door…” Jacks commented as the guards made it to the upper level of Pierre’s concealed abode.
“Scratch that Jacks, she didn’t just force a door, she TORE it off its hinges! What’s going on here…?”
“Bah! So she’s fit! Ah ain’t afraid of no butch broad!” Maxwells said, charging into the passage Charlie had taken.
Charlie looked around curiously, soothed by the place she found herself in. It felt like she finally could afford to feel free, the annoying feeling of light, irritating pain was almost gone… She just needed time to herself. “I just need a little rest…” she told herself, and as if suddenly affected by what seemed to be months of unrest she began heading nearby a wall, where her fingers began carving a tunnel. Strength beyond her wildest dreams allowed her to dig through crust and hardened minerals, allowing herself a small alcove where she would take residence. Wobbling a bit, she suddenly made it into the hole and proceeded to cover after herself. She wanted to be undisturbed.
But just as Charlie was beginning to relax, her body suddenly began to react wildly again. Something was inside her, causing the tingling, changing her from the inside out, adding, mixing, changing, becoming.
She noticed how the pain in her right arm was beginning to shoot up again, but before she could even complain she noticed the sutures being pushed off as her flesh seemed to regenerate the damaged tissue in record time. The swelling in her leg had long disappeared, not that it had mattered to her earlier. Charlie became scared at first, “What’s happening to me? This was going to be an easy mission… Am I feeling guilty over my failure…?” she asked herself, unaware that part of the very thing she had been sent to extract was now in her body, stimulating every cell in her body, rewriting information, subverting its normal routines and protocols to satisfy the recombinator bacteria’s whims. It had to optimize, it had to mix, it had to perfect. It had to recreate. That was its sole purpose behind its creation.
But Charlie didn’t know that, nor what was about to happen to her. She was filled with anxiety all of a sudden, the tingling in her body beginning to spread all over her form. Without being able to react in any other way she just moaned as she felt pressure in her back, her feet and her chest. The first thing she did was to bring a hand down at her chest, which felt tight against the tattered robes she had been wearing. “It’s… what’s this? My breasts, they…” she gasped, moaning again as the feeling intensified with her touch. All of a sudden the tingling began to concentrate into one blast of pure bliss as she felt her natural C cups to suddenly begin swelling, pushing her bra and the fabric of her clothes away. The bra was putting on a valiant effort, but the rate at which Charlie’s bosom was enlarging was too much, and with the stretching sound of fabric tearing off, her boob flesh won the tugging competition. Her bra’s straps broke off and then her palm felt as her huge bosom spilled onto her palm. She could feel their size and weight had increased as she felt them through the robes. “It’s… ahhh! It’s gotten bigger, my chest! It’s so big now!” she moaned to herself as her D cups continued to swell. She felt an irresistible urge to grope herself, and thus she moved both hands to her immense orbs and began squeezing the growing mounds.
She was so busy playing with her growing mounds that she didn’t notice how her feet were undergoing a certain change. A small bump started to push against her sneakers, which was in fact something growing out of the back of her feet. The stretching sound was only muffled by Charlie’s moans of pleasure as she played with herself, but the sneakers wouldn’t resist. They busted from behind as her feet sprouted a sharp yet short talon that grazed flint and roused a few sparks. Its sharpness was great enough, but that wasn’t all that was granted to Charlie. Her feet continued their metamorphosis, her toes seemingly melting and then melding together, bones shifting and fusing into what seemed to be two extra talons, these a bit longer than the one behind her ankle.
Then came her back. Charlie’s tailbone was beginning to elongate, but only enough for what seemed to be a mound of gooey material to protrude from her coccyx, which began to solidify and form into a solid appendage. A second, much smaller mound grew atop the first one, repeating the process of molding and solidification. Four extra mounds of the same size followed, the tail-like appendage folding to fit inside the confined room neatly. It looked like the segmented tail of any scorpion, and to complete its appearance the tip formed a curved stinger from where pink liquid finely excreted, making a sizzling sound as it touched the ground nearby.
But Charlie was too into her new set of knockers to pay attention to this. Her growing double Ds were still getting larger, and with the robes stuck under her weight their elasticity was engaged in a losing battle with her great boobies. Eventually, the weight and pressure were so great that the flesh began popping through the seams that were being opened by Charlie’s needy fingers. She needed to feel her sweater meat, she had to squeeze and feel her endowments! And so she did when her breasts reached a size of two large softballs, tearing through the front of her outfit. “Mmmm… so big, so sensitive. Oh, whatever’s happening to me don’t sto-” but before she could finish her sentence she noticed the little light filtering through the cracks of her hidey hole was showing her the humongous tail by her front, “Oh god, oh god! Giant scorpion, AHHH!” she screamed out in a panic, not that it could be heard outside…
Much.
“Hey! Did you hear anything?” Jacks said, the group already outside the tunnel and into the same cave where Charlie had decided to hide to ‘rest’. “Sounded like a girl screaming…”
“The hell, you think she hid in here? When she could’ve just bailed? I say we contact the Cap, look at that exit. I bet she’s on her way to the airport as we speak! She’ll be laughing all the way back to wherever she’s headed to!” Zeng growled.
But Charlie wasn’t in the mood to laugh. In fact, she was so terrified it was a incredible she hadn’t started screaming again. She held the segmented tail that was protruding from her back just as she would try to move a heavy hose from one side to another. “This… this is mine!” she gasped, then felt her toes wiggle… or what were left of them anyway. “What? My feet, I… I lost my feet!” she panicked again, trying to move her new claw-like feet to experiment, “Oh god, what’s happened to me? I have a scorpion’s tail, clawed feet and… cow udders?” she semi-jokingly told herself, bouncing her basically unchanged but larg
Warning: This story contains transformation, growth, butt expansion and breast expansion. You’ve been warned!
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Amazing Fiction #i, by DragonMasterX.
Mid-Asia, the deserts are known to be inhospitable areas for even the toughest animals, save for those naturally adapted to survive its harsh conditions. But humans have overcome so many obstacles in their path to evolution that creating habitats even in these unforgiving sands proved to be just another stepping stone.
While Charlotte Richards toured the resort village she had been assigned to, her eyes stayed sharp for suspicious behavior, even under the brutal heat she had to. As an agent of a well-known branch of Interpol, she had been personally chosen for this mission given her successful arrest record and high regards from her peers.
The mission went as follows: Apparently a group of bio-chemists had developed a special kind of bacteria with DNA-recombinant properties. ‘Charlie’ wasn’t big on science, but as far as she was concerned the bacteria by itself wasn’t dangerous. However, its unique properties made it excel as a bridging agent for developing other compounds, such as super vaccines. By the same token, though, the research on the bacteria could also be used to produce new kinds of biological weapons that could really bring disaster upon mankind were the aforementioned research fall into the wrong hands.
A hot tip nabbed by the Interpol just in time had placed their watchful eyes and ears over a vein of black market dealings that were supposedly dealing with leaked samples of the bacteria in question, and it was Charlie’s assignment to find, apprehend and search suspects, and upon retrieving the samples, bring them back to use as evidence.
Charlie pulled on the collar of her shirt and sighed. The heat was brutal. Everyone was wearing turbans and loose clothes in order to shield themselves from the unforgiving sun and stay fresh. She wished she hadn’t been assigned to this place. She’d never done well on sand. Unpleasant memories of early years at the beach filled her mind, but she quickly dispelled them and returned her focus back to the mission.
As her eyes scanned over the place a second, then third time, she gave up on this particular area of the resort. The normal market was usually a good place to start investigations on a black market, but everyone was especially clammed up in respect to that.
Charlie was the careful one when questioning civvies but the way they appeared to be pretending they knew nothing of illegal dealings in the area made her curse deep down. Sometimes she wished she could just pull out her gun, flash her ID and take the bad guys back. She felt a drop of sweat roll down from her head down her right cheek and then she let out a depressed sigh. It wasn’t going to be easy this time either.
After some more fruitless legwork, the agent decided to turn back and head to her base, a small and cozy hotel but with excellent location for keeping survey in every direction. Charlie was hungry, so she brought some local food back and after a while decided to lie down for an afternoon nap. Investigations in places with extreme temperatures really drained her, but she had also been awake since way early, and hadn’t had much sleep overnight since she had arrived the night before. She would resume her investigation later…
That night…
Deep inside the local market was a particularly run down shack. Agent Richards had paid special attention to it in case it would reveal to be a way into the black market joint earlier. Upon closer inspection however, one would only see a dilapidated house that screamed to be removed from sight, there was no one inside and that was clear from the get-go once one saw through the empty windows. There really didn’t seem anything particularly out of place about this location, and in the dead of night it was all but blended right in with the rest of the closed-up shops.
With no one snooping around, a pair of men dressed in thick black robes approached this particular shack and knocked on its unhinged door a total of five times. Each knock was done on a different spot on the wood surface, and every knock seemed to emit a different sound in response. When the men had finished knocking, they would step back and the floor before them would begin receding into the ground to reveal a long set of stairs heading into pitch black darkness. A small while after the couple had disappeared into the depths of the strange stairs the ground would once more regain its original shape, and all that was left was that small shack.
Over the course of the night, several other figures dressed in black would approach the shack and repeat that particular knocking ritual, sometimes they came alone, sometimes they came in pairs or trios, but the knocking never changed in style.
Each person outfitted in black would, after ‘entering’ the pass code, gain entrance to the mysterious stairs. After enough descent through what seemed to be a narrow passage downwards in the shape of a spiral, they would then enter a shiny, much wider hall way illuminated by fine candelabras and wall torches made of gold. At the end of the hallway awaited the blinding light of a gigantic four-walled room with a very high ceiling from where even more candelabra decorated and lighted the room at the same time.
Fancy tables were arranged before a large stage, several seats were already taken, but none of the patrons were dressed in black. Their coats and turbans had been removed by the guards at the end of the hallway and put away for their commodity. Faces and membership cards would be double checked to ensure they were in the list of bidders. Cameras were placed everywhere, armed guards stationed at every corner with orders to quickly subdue intruders, making it even harder to gain entrance. No one would be able to sneak past that kind of detection system.
No one, unless one was the date of a patron whose notable purchases had earned him the right of exception. One of those would be Godfrey Smith, an English gentleman known to the public as an incredibly successful man of the business world with some extra karma because of his voluptuous donations to the benefaction. His true passion however was not his line of work nor his supposed golden heart, but more frivolous things such as fine women, wine and just about anything of huge value that others craved.
Tonight was no different for Mr. Smith. He’d heard an especially expensive item had hit the market and as such he felt he had to possess it no matter what. He was going to win no matter what. He always did if the object interested him.
Smith was particularly happy that evening. Not only had he made it to the auction, but by the end of the afternoon he had earned the favor of the lady seated by his side. Her name was Lira apparently, a black-haired beauty dressed elegantly and skimpily at the same time, just as he liked. He had to bring her down just to show off how rich he was, and then after he’d claimed his newest possession he’d also claim her as his. The woman was nice, eager to hear him talk about his incredible victories over the other bidders and the grand amount of treasure or investments he’d earned. She was as elegant as she was sensual and as beautiful as she was smart. So different to the flashy sluts he used to pick up; in fact, she seemed to have been tailored just for him! He had no idea.
The auction soon started. The first few items were common junk in Smith’s eyes, nothing that seemed to interest his date either; which was a pity, he had brought some ‘spare change’ in case he wanted to buy more than just the best item, or treat such a nice lady. As a gentleman he offered to buy her pretty jewels or treasure on display, but she politely declined. She had class, he thought, and it made her even more alluring to him.
Eventually came the item he’d been waiting for. Supposedly it would work as the ultimate investment for his company, and generate enough liquid cash to the point nothing would ever escape his greedy hands. It appeared to be a small vial, described as a powerful chemical compound that had not yet been released by any laboratory, thus it was the opportunity to make a fortune off this enterprise. The starting bid was twenty million. There was no buy-out for it, so it was going to be a tough call.
The first five calls raised the bid to a hundred in less than three minutes. Smith had yet to lift his bidder up. His date eyed him curiously, Lira seemed interested in how he was staring at the item, chuckling at the minimum increases in price. It was all an amusing game to him. A game that Mr. Smith won every single time.
“A thousand million,” the bidder stick of the lady situated three tables over Smith was raised up above. A few gasps resonated throughout the auction house, then silence befell the scene; Lira was intently staring at the English gentleman.
He didn’t know who this woman was, her head concealed by a fine silky cloth, a pair of sunglasses adding to the mystery. Smith scoffed at the insolence, insulted even by the small notion of competition. Those kind of exhilarant bids were his trademark. Lifting his bidder he loudly announced: “Five thousand million.”
The prying eyes jumped from the lone woman to Smith then back to her, feasting on the tension of the apparent bid war that was beginning. No other bidder stick was being raised, but the woman’s did, once again, and she declared: “Ten thousand millions.”
Smith grunted. “The folly!” he thought, taking a big gulp off the glass of fine scotch he’d been having. It was on.
“Twelve thousand million!”
“Fifteen thousand.”
“Twenty thousand!”
“Thirty thousand.”
Eyes bounced like ping pong balls, back and forth between the bidders, the offers by the rich competitors deflating egos and inflating anxiety. Just how high would it go? Was it really worth that much? Everyone knew Smith was a compulsive buyer from his frequent visits, but this mystery woman, a supposed newcomer, it was almost mind-baffling how nobody seemed to recognize her in spite of how much money she boasted to have.
Smith strongly set the empty glass after one last gulp and finally stood up with a loud shout, his face red from both his anger and mild inebriation, “A HUNDRED THOUSAND MILLION!”
The atmosphere suddenly turned even more oppressive. The air was so thick you could slice it with a knife. The surprised peoples’ eyes laid upon the lone female, who seemed to smile as she stood up. She turned in the direction of Mr. Smith and, unexpectedly, took a bow at him, as if revering him. She then proceeded to leave.
Everyone was baffled at this behavior, even the auctioneer who hadn’t even begun counting down, having been expecting yet another table-turn. No one was bidding more either. 100,000,000,000 was many zeroes. Eventually, the auctioneer snapped back to reality as the female finally left and then, at the fall of his hammer, so did everyone snap back.
“A-a hundred thousand m-million…” he repeated, stuttering slightly, “One… two…”
Everyone was holding their breath. Lira looked at Smith’s dumbfounded face with amusement. He hadn’t yet registered what had just happened. Usually when anything like this happened he would have the pleasure of humiliating his competition, yet this woman, someone he’d never seen or heard of before had just pushed him and in the end… politely accepted her defeat? Good-sportsmanship in an auction house? Unheard of!
“Three! Sold to Mr. Smith,” the auctioneer loudly announced. A few claps from some tables sparked a huge applause for the winner. It wasn’t often that Greedy ‘ol Smith, as he was known in this kind of circle, got backed into a corner by a rookie. And the way he showed her! Everyone exploded with both ovation and admiration. Smith only came back to Lira’s tugging of his arm, her soft voice soothing his mind back to normal.
“Very good job, Godfrey, I’m so… impressed,” she sensually smiled as she softly stroked his forearm with her fingers, “And I’m not the only one it seems,” she smirked, her eyes suggesting for him to see the well-known bidders in the house. Eventually, Mr. Smith gathered his composure back and stopped at nothing to brag about his victory, to show off his beautiful woman and to shake a couple of hands until eventually he stepped in to emit a check and pick his item. The vial had, after all, been the last one in display.
“Hm, so tell me more about your spoils, dear,” Lira asked as they left through the same stairs they had come in before, their dark robes concealing them as they walked in the deserted market place.
“Ah, I didn’t take you for an enchanting beauty interested in complex sciences…” Godfrey complimented, before producing the coveted metallic vial containing what would repay his investment and with interest. The container was no longer than a middle finger and no thicker than two of them, there was a transparent spot designed to show the contents; all in all a very mundane container vial, yet the value of it skyrocketed due to its contents. “This right here, my darling, is a very powerful agent capable of synthesizing any kind of advanced compound in half, no, three quarters the time it takes for any other bridging component! And here I’ve the only sample out in the market at this moment,” he proudly smirked, showing the vial to Lira for emphasis.
She seemed not only pleased but almost aroused at his description. Lira stepped forwards, chest pressed against his, she placed her hand on the tip of his pectoral region, looking up at him, “Mm, I like a man with a big… vocabulary,” she cooed, making Smith blush. As he was smitten she reached for the vial to examine it closer in her hands, “So this thing is worth a hundred thousand million… worth every penny, am I right?” she sensually asked, waving the vial in front of the large man, who only nodded at the sexy devil of a woman.
“Yes, now be careful, we don’t want such a valuable container to get…” with him raising his arm he clumsily bumped Lira’s, causing her to drop the vial with a small whimper, “Ah! Don’t worry, my dear. The vial is strong enough to withstand that. It was my fault, allow me…” he said, about to reach for the treasured item before she stopped him.
“Please, Godfrey, it was my fault, let me,” Lira said, “Plus it seems like you’re… distracted tonight,” she smirked a bit, the almost half-bent man’s face quite next to her defined chest. The robes were tight enough to mark her breasts. He instantly stood up in order to not seem like a pervert old man and waited, looking elsewhere. Lira giggled and went down to pick up the object by her feet. She then grabbed Smith’s hand, placed it on his hands and gave him a playful bump with her hips, “Come now, Godfrey. I was only joking…” she grinned, “Let’s go to your place, mm?” she pressed her rouge lips to his cheek and kissed.
After being urged to safely put the vial away in his pocket, the couple headed on to Smith’s luxurious hotel to spend the night together…
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Smith woke up as the first ray of morning sun hit his face. He felt at a loss, holding by his head. He didn’t remember much of last night bar the victory over that cocky newbie back at the auction house. As he sat up on the king sized bed he attempted to collect his memories of the night before, but his thoughts stopped at his arrival in the hotel and the subsequent heavy drinking he’d undergone with. “Ow, my poor head… I must’ve drunk too much…” he sighed, shaking his head for clarity as he attempted to remember more. Come to think of it, he’d come to the hotel with someone, hadn’t he…? But Smith was alone in his bed, no one by his side.
He looked around for any indication of company, but it was just his own belongings there. He looked again, nothing. Eventually, he gave up and stood up, headed for his bathroom and tried drinking some cold water in order to get rid of the pounding headache result from the hangover. Smith inspected his face… that’s when he noticed something on his cheek. He felt it to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, but he was sure about it: rouge lipstick. It all quickly came back to him. That woman he’d picked up a couple hours before he left for the auction, her name, everything she’d asked of him. His eyes widened.
Out of fear, he ran right back to the bedroom and jumped over the bed to the sprawled black robe by the night table. He desperately reached into the pocket of the robes and slowly fell to the mattress, relieved to be holding the vial in his hand. Smith rolled it over his palm in order to make sure it was the genuine article, and sure enough it felt just as the vial he’d purchased on the day before, but something was wrong… Something definitely felt wrong about it.
And then he noticed it after looking through the display on the vial. The liquid holding the bacteria, it wasn’t transparent the night before. He was sure of it. And now he was sure his fears hadn’t been unfounded. “Curses, but when did she?!” he grunted, reminding himself of when she had dropped the vial, she must’ve been carrying a spare and switched it when he wasn’t looking!
Quickly, an enraged Godfrey Smith began dialing phone numbers and barking orders as fast as you could imagine. The only airport out of this desert was a couple of miles away from this resort and vehicles were unsuitable for travelling between the airport and there. That wench would need to leave in one of the caravans and they did not leave until eight in the morning. He was going to stop each and every caravan if he had to, and search them all if necessary to get his investment back.
That bitch would pay, too. As he closed the phone, he hurled it against the wall in a fit of rage, fortunately the material of his cell phone made it impervious to moderate impacts. He growled, “No one messes with me. I don’t know who she thinks she is, but no one crosses me.”
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Charlie was hiding in an alley. Her raven hair a mess and the make up she’d been using the night before was all scurried. She’d no time to take a shower after spending the whole night trying to get Smith drunk so she could put him in bed and leave. She was glad she’d had the time to change though, that dress she’d put on in order to seduce the man had been murder on her waist; she was fit, but the corset she had to wear underneath had been a real pain.
As she produced the vial with the bacteria however, she thought: “It was worth it,” with a smile. All she had to do is use the time she’d bought herself with the alcohol on the old man and then make a run for it to the airport, the rendezvous point. With some luck, Smith would sleep the booze off his system until it was too late. She’d been hoping for too much however.
“Empty your cargo.” Armed guards stood by the caravans, groups of two per transport, all of them thoroughly checking for the described female and the missing item. Threatened by the firearms both the patrons and the drivers complied.
Charlie watched with a frown, hoping she could somehow exploit an opening and make a break for it in an unbothered transport. She lay in wait, keeping out of sight, watching intently…
“Now, empty your pockets!” one of the guards yelled. The mother of the child he was staring down walked in front of her little one defensively before the guard could seize him. “You’re in the way, woman!”
“Mommy, I’m scared!”
“Can’t you see he’s terrified? I won’t let you lay a hand on him!”
“We’ve no intention of killing anybody, but I’ll rough you up if we have to!” the guard barked, “Now empty your pockets.”
“He only has toys and candy I bought for him, for the love of god he’s only seven years old. What could he possibly have that YOU want?!”
“That’s of no concern to you. What we’re looking for may’ve been passed along, and if we don’t get it our boss’s gonna be angry with us, and that’s enough for me to get this done as quick as possible!”
“Bastards,” Charlie muttered as she witnessed the commotion. “Smith probably paid them pure gold to get this back. These goons are probably willing to kill to get it back even if they said they wouldn’t…” she groaned, her priorities starting to confuse.
“How about you help us make it quick? That way I won’t have to get rough with a woman and a kid.”
The woman seemed shaken, but the guns in the guard’s hands made her resolve in favor of their lives. “Thomas, please… show them what I bought you earlier,” she said.
Thomas was still frightened, yet with his mother backing him up he felt like he could stand up to the situation. Reaching down to his robe’s pockets he pulled out a bag with artisan-quality sweets and a small silver-plated vial-shaped object. The guard’s eyebrows lifted above his shades, then suddenly he seized the container from the young boy’s little hands. Thomas cried out: “Wait! That’s mine!”
“This… it fits the description,” the guard observed the silver object from every angle. The design was perfect, even if it smelled sweet. There even was a see-through section on the vial with blue liquid inside. “We’ll be confiscating this. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Wait, I said it’s mine!” the child insisted even as the guard nonchalantly turned his back to leave. His mother tried to hold him but the angry kid broke free. Charlie widened her eyes as she saw him strike out and kick the guard in the shins. “Meanie!” he yelled.
The guard winced loudly, having been taken by surprise, the vial flying from his hands and crashing against a stand. Everyone gasped as the sound of the vial bursting and its contents spilling all over the wooden stand elicited a big “No!” from the kneeling guard.
The rest of the guards converged on his location, asking questions and receiving the saddened explanation their target had just been destroyed. One of them left and examined the spot where the vial had burst and upon getting next to it his eyes closed and he braced himself instinctively. “Phew! Man this is some sweet odor. It’s pungent!”
“Sweet odor?” the captain of the group grunted, “The target’s contains odorless substance.”
“What?” the kneeling guard’s jaw dropped in disbelief, “So what was I…?”
“Stealing? My son’s candy, jerk!” the mother quickly went to grab Thomas, cradling him in her arms. “The nerve of some people, stealing a kid’s candy!”
“Phhth!” the kid flagrantly stuck his tongue out at the dumbfounded guard. He was about to get up and go show them a thing or two before their captain stopped him.
“It’s no use, Zeng. We’ve already covered this one. Keep going, and this time make sure you don’t throw out fake alarms.”
With that, Zeng and the rest of the guards went back to their mission, allowing the clean chariots to leave unbothered.
Thomas and her mother made it into their own, and as soon as they found a spot next to a concealed person. The child took out his bag of sweets and began eating with a grumpy look on his face, his mother just glad they had avoided any further conflict. The person beneath them looked down at Thomas and whispered: “Hey kid,” to get Thomas’s attention. “Good kick,” the female said with a light, amused tone in her voice.
“I fight bad guys like that aaaall the time!” the kid bluffed with a proud grin, then offered a candy to his new admirer. She smiled through her muffler and then peered outside through the chariot’s windows. Mr. Smith would have to hope for his bank to reject that check in time, because the slippery agent had just made off with his hard earned prize.
The man himself sat at his hotel room at that moment, thinking hard on how he had deceived himself, and how eager he was to have that woman with her neck surrounded by his hands. He patiently awaited for news until the captain of his enforcers finally showed up. The fellow appeared nervous as if to deliver bad news. “Don’t give up, Captain,” the robust millionaire grunted, not even needing the captain to say a single word to know what had happened. Or rather, what hadn’t. “Stop that caravan.”
“But sir, we’ve searched each and all of them and no one had…”
“You don’t understand, do you? She’s a slippery one, that woman,” Mr. Smith balled up a fast, clutching his fingers together as if in deep anger and humiliation, “This caravan is her only option out. The next one leaves tomorrow, and no one would overstay their welcome like this. Do as I say, man!”
“What if they resist? Sir the tourists were restless at first.”
“Fool! Don’t talk back to me like that, you’re on my payroll, and I OWN this little resort. Now do as I say, and take EVERY precaution necessary to get my investment back. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Now go! Stop wasting time.”
Mr. Smith was red with anger, but he trusted his men.
Only ten minutes of nonstop order barking from the Captain, the guard under Smith’s payroll began gathering in large sand buggies, loaded with weapons on mercy bullets that would be shot if deemed necessary. Two buggies left with the forces. Their target remained unchanged, but their methods had been authorized to become much more forceful.
Unaware of this, the passengers of the desert caravan blissfully continued their ride to the airport, Charlie included. She had mostly kept to herself, only taking quick glances to her PDA. “Shoot, I’m on time but while I slipped through in here during that confusion earlier I forgot to send my message to HQ, and there’s no reception in the middle of nowhere… Well, they should be set for picking me up as soon as I get there,” she mused, looking out of the window as if it was a habit. There was something about the clear skies that always put her at ease even during the most anxious moments.
Agent Richards’s anxiety however would peak if she knew she was being followed. The sand buggies with Smith’s goons were rapidly catching up, and soon enough, one of the passengers noticed the jolly bunch approaching them. “Hey look, dune riders!” one passenger exclaimed.
Another one joined them on the window and added: “That’s awesome, but was there a sand buggy rental shop back at the resort?”
Her interest piqued, Charlie glanced down and her eyes widened as she noticed who were driving the approaching buggies. “Damnit! I might’ve let one of them see my face back then…” she cursed under her breath, standing up and looking around for anything that might help her. She had, after all, only brought a concealed small caliber gun in case she ran into the kind of trouble she could deal with. Charlie hadn’t counted with ten men rushing her vehicles!
There was nothing she could do without giving away her identity. She ran out of time to think of a plan and eventually she decided to allow things to play out. The buggies passed her chariot and went ahead to press the leading one in order to have them all stop at once. As the chariots came to a halt, the passengers became restless. “Why are we stopping?” “What’s going on?”
Those questions and more were answered as the reasons climbed down of their own vehicles. The armed guards began to approach the chariots and this time, without even asking, began to throw people out, forcing them down on their knees. Each and every man, woman or children had their turban removed, their face double and triple checked, and their belongings meticulously registered. This time however, no one would leave until everyone was rounded up.
Before, the operation had been under the cover that an illegal object was being smuggled out of the country. Now, they hadn’t even explained a thing. This caused even more unrest for the tourists, who eventually began to rise up. The first person that did, however…
“We already cooperated. I demand there to be an immediate stop to this bullshit! We have our rights, don’t we?!” the angry tourist shouted, but before he could even see it, the guard he had been yelling to pointed his rifle at his chest and pulled the trigger. The force of the mercy bullet being propelled out of the gun’s barrel was enough to knock the air out of the poor man who slumped on his knees, clutching his stomach in pain and then finally collapsed, unconscious, not that anyone knew that was the case. With that, silence began to pervade the area, everyone simply stared, and the guards continued their search.
“Anyone else would like me to read their rights?” the guard asked without even looking at the terrified eyes of the passengers.
“He killed him!” a woman yelled out.
“Let me at ‘em, mommy!” young Thomas said from far back, but this time the over worried mother clutched her arms around her son tightly, unwilling to let go.
Charlie swallowed. “I can’t allow these people to be involved anymore… this is Interpol’s deal. I might’ve been sent on this mission but its importance can’t come before the well being of these people,” she told herself, almost regretting how she had allowed fate to resolve her issues before. But now, things were quickly escalating out of hand. Her conscience got the better of her.
She was trained in martial arts and high discipline for Close-Quarters Combat, but she couldn’t take out 10 armed men so easily. She couldn’t break out her weapon and go gun-ho either, as the crossfire would put all the civilians in danger. Charlie was certainly in a pickle. “If this doesn’t work, well… Guess I’ll be bouncing unwanted people off that pretty bar up the sky,” she gulped.
With her resolve to save people and her mission at the same time set, Charlie walled herself against the long queue of chariots and began to sneakily make her way to the sand buggies. Fortunately the groups of people had been rounded up and were making a line on one side. Thanks to that she had an easy break making it to the first chariot. Now came the hard part.
She peeked out of cover and made sure there wasn’t anyone looking her way before she managed to skip undetected to the side of the buggy. One of the camels pulling the carriages snorted at that moment, which turned the attention of one of the soldiers, but fortunately Charlie had already made it. That didn’t make it any easier for her as she silently cursed at the animal, but then she glanced at the panel of the buggy and allowed her a smile. “Idiots.”
Agent Richards took a deep breath and then finally jumped onto the vehicle. She turned the key and was relieved that the engine roared to life almost immediately. This turned the attention of at least six guards, but before they could say anything Charlie stepped on the gas, “That one’s trying to get away! After them! We have to…” but before they could finish, the dusty cloud Charlie purposely kicked up blinded them. “Shoot! Shoot damnit!”
They began unloading mercy bullets, but they were highly ineffectual against the plating of the sand buggy. They didn’t even do anything to the tires! “Wong, you guys stay here,” the Captain said to five of his soldiers. Hurrying to the remaining buggy, he brought the engine to life, “The rest of you, come with me! We have a rat to catch.”
Charlie looked at the panel. The speed-o-meter wasn’t going higher than a hundred and twenty kilometers. “Damnit!” she said as she noticed the speeding image on her buggy’s retro visor, “I should’ve sabotaged that one before leaving. This is gonna get rough… Ahh!” she shrieked as a bullet collided against the windshield, shattering it. “The ones before weren’t making a dent because they were mercy bullets, they must’ve switched! Oh goodie!” she sarcastically said.
“I’ve to get to the airport, that’s the only way to contact HQ. I’m on my own out here!” her mind told her, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate both on driving and making sure she was also moving erratically to avoid giving them a clear shot.
“Fools! Do I have to do everything by myself?” The captain growled, switching the driver’s seat with one of his guards, taking his rifle as well. He began to aim.
Charlie became slightly relieved when she began to distinguish the airport not too far away from her current position. She hit the gas as hard as she could, attempting to make it. She also slipped her hand into her robes, using a free hand to quickly dial to HQ, hoping to get signal now that she was nearby. “Yes! I’m getting reception! Finally,” she grinned a bit, but that moment of leisure was one she would soon regret as she heard a loud bang followed by an ominous hissing. “The tank!” she gasped, making a desperate swerve as the next bullet caused one of the rear tires to blow up. “Damnit! I’m losing control!” she gasped, “But I’m so near!”
The buggy was losing speed, and Charlie’s heart was racing as consequence, knowing the leaked gas might ignite with even the slightest spark and send her with a one-way ticket to hell. “But the bacteria… they can’t have it!” she gasped, then as she began noticing a nearby tall rock formation she devised a plan. Maybe her last one.
“Look captain! They’re going off-track! Headed to…”
“No! They’re going to commit suicide! We can’t have the target destroyed with them! GET GOING MAN!”
“It’s as fast as it’s going to get, Cap!”
“D-dang… gotta time it just right…” Charlie fearfully held onto the wheel and forced her foot down on the pedal. The engine let out a small groan as nearly all its fuel had been depleted already. Her persecutors had almost caught up with her too! She was about to make one last swerve before the Captain lined up a last hopeful shot and managed to shoot Charlie in her arm, making her yelp out and also lose focus. Blood gushed from the wound, but Charlie couldn’t allow herself to fail now! She made the swerve just as she had intended… and crashed the side of her buggy on the formations, jumping off at the last moment.
The vehicle exploded against the rocks. The Captain’s buggy came to an abrupt stop a mere 30ft away. The blast blocked the view of everything, even of its driver. There was a minor quake as the force of the explosion cleared some natural supports for the spot, causing the sand to collapse into what seemed to be an all-devouring hole. Rock and smoking debris started falling into the broadening hole that seemed to consume everything.
The goons looked on as the pit widened broader and broader, stopping barely 10ft away from them. “Holy… didja look at that? No way they survived that explosion!” one of the men exclaimed. The Captain was mainly silent, staring at the smoking pit of sand with glaring eyes, as if entirely convinced of the opposite his men had. “Search that pit. We’ll take no chances.”
“We’ll need some rope and a hook. Check the compartments. Hurry up!”
But even as Smith’s agents prepared, they would’ve never been able to foresee what was going on below. The debris had fallen into the sandy abyss but it was by no means endless. A short distance below, the Interpol agent known as Charlie was barely hanging on to life. She was both hurt and confused, her muffler burned off in the explosion, somehow her face had only received minor, stinging burns, the rest of her clothes in bad shape but nothing one couldn’t fix with enough silk. Charlie quickly fished into her robes, her PDA was destroyed, but the vial with the coveted bacteria was without harm, “Tough… little bastard, aint’cha?”
She had miraculously survived the intentional car crash, but she had lost blood from the gunshot wound on her right arm. “Can’t… close eyes. Must… stay awake…” she told herself sternly. This had been some divine providence or something to her. She was alive, alone, and had a chance at escaping. “Where…?” her tired eyes glanced around as she somehow managed to get up on her knees, “A subterranean tunnel- under the desert?” she mused, finally able to stand on her two feet, clutching her sore arm hard as she flinched from the pain. “Ahh! Nggh… Wasn’t too far away from the airport… Maybe I can make it there, somehow.”
Before she could make more than a few dozen feet in distance however, she began hearing the ceiling rattle. Charlie cursed herself, thinking the earlier blast must’ve upset the entire cavern. She couldn’t bring herself down with pessimist predictions however. The rattling insisted, and she couldn’t help but to stop and observe as an intricate set of holes began appearing above her. Charlie narrowed her eyes, trying to make out what was happening, since the holes were too small, and too few in number to signify a cave in. Suddenly one of them abruptly widened and an object fell through, landing on her forehead.
Charlie froze, gulping. She felt the object move on top of her head. It was big, and she couldn’t see it thanks to the position; it was crawling however, with eight disgusting legs, and it was starting to make her legs weak. “O-off… off…” she muttered, before a second creature descended onto her arm, “GET OFF ME!” she screamed as she noticed the creatures falling were big types of black desert scorpions that she’d never seen before in her life. And they were angry, as if disturbed from someone making a ruckus. Charlie shook around as fast as she could, but the scorpions continued to rain down on her from the ceiling.
“Ahhh! Noo! Stop it, stop it!” she began struggling, flailing her arms as attempted to throw the arachnids off her. The scorpions, now feeling threatened, began to attack with their stingers, which Charlie narrowly avoided by pushing them off her limbs and head, swatting them off as if they were oversized ants crawling on her skin. But in her haste she forgot to check below, where another scorpion was emerging, equally disturbed by her screaming and dancing on his home. Angry and annoyed at the same time, the creature climbed onto the girl’s footwear and in an effort to get rid of the intruder drove its venomous stinger into her leg. The pointy tip was strong enough to penetrate human skin, and as a result it injected the venom into Charlie’s bloodstream.
The intrusion of the stinger was, by all means, like an annoying sting to Charlie, who immediately lost her balance as she realized she’d been stung. “Ahhh!” she cried out, knowing that there were certain types of scorpions who carried toxins deadly to even humans. “F-fuck, get off, get off! Nngh!” she fought to get all of them off, falling from the loss of balance and the lack of energy. Charlie had no idea what she would do now that she was not only crippled but also stung, “D-damn… can’t… allow this… to stop me…” she gasped, feeling her legs go numb, and the rest of her body followed suit as the neurotoxin worked to paralyze her.
Satisfied, the victorious scorpion and his brethren prepared to feast upon the giant source of food, conglomerating upon their paralyzed prey. They were about to start feasting immediately, but suddenly they all scattered at once, leaving the crippled woman to her own devices.
Charlie was feeling drowsy. While not strong enough to induce unconsciousness, the venom had worked to its intended purpose and her locomotive system wouldn’t respond to her brain’s commands. She could move her eyes and see, but she couldn’t speak, only breath. Her body felt increasingly weaker, unable to cope with the loss of blood. She was slowly slipping away, but then a blinding light covered her and a strange sound akin to that of a drum kept ringing in her head. Somebody was approaching her, they seemed to be alone.
--------------------
Three of the guards under the Captain’s had made it down to the underground tunnels. They were surprised to find no corpse, not even any sort of remains after searching through the debris. The Captain was still unconvinced, and sent them further along the maze. They weren’t making good progress. The farther they went in, the more they realized the tunnels kept forking and splitting; it was like a massive natural labyrinth. “We ain’t gonna find nobody in here man. Better head back and tell the Cap we found nothing… ‘cause that’s the truth!”
“What’s the use? Boss man has the Cap overclocked. We go back there and he’ll kick us down here again. We either find that suicidal sod or any proof they were successful in buying the farm or we’ll be stuck here ‘til X-mas I tell ya.”
But even as they worked to find who was nowhere in vicinity, the person responsible for their target’s disappearance was carrying Charlie to their safe abode.
“You’re in a pretty rough shape,” the voice of a middle-aged man was the last thing Charlie heard before her eyes closed and she finally lost consciousness. “Well, don’t know who you are or where you come from; heck, why the hell you were down here at all, but I’d be a really bad practitioner if I didn’t treat you.”
The man carried his guest through a metal door that opened with simple set of everyday keys. Walking through the door the resident of the apparently desolate sandy tomb entered into his abode. The self-referred practitioner placed the bruised Charlie upon a metal table that sat in the middle of the large room. If she’d been awake, Charlie would’ve found what seemed to be an underground hall filled with a plethora of medical and scientific equipment, their purpose unknown, but their technology very much to date.
“Now, what do we have here?” the man carefully observed Charlie’s unconscious form, noticing her bleeding arm first, and a red swelling spot on her right leg. “A bullet wound… Whoever you are, someone didn’t like you, eh?” he said to his slumbering patient, expecting no reply. His eyes went down and he grabbed Charlie’s leg, “Nice legs,” he commented, “But I think they can do without the high amount of black scorpion venom they’ve been pumped with… I better get to work.”
The mystery man proceeded to treat Charlie with near unparalleled speed. Even if alone, the man behaved like a professional surgeon capable of operating individually. After preparing his instruments and respective containers, the practitioner began his operation. Charlie would feel nothing thankfully, but the doctor had to extract the bullet and disinfect the open wound in order to prevent infection. The blood loss had been considerable, but the vitals seemed strong on the machine the man was using to monitor his patient. “She must be a fighter… Good for her, I hate dealing with corpses,” he jokingly told himself, and continued his work.
After a while, Charlie’s arm was sutured and her wound was due to heal. The medical expert began the second treatment, which was to purge the venom out of her system. She would need to receive a blood transfusion plus the antidote to the venom if she’d ever want to walk again.
“Done… You’re still stable, but you need that blood transfusion soon,” he said out loud. It was risky to transfuse while he hadn’t yet fabricated or administered a serum to block out the venom’s effects, but if he didn’t give her blood the nutrients and oxygen would be delayed from reaching vital organs. Charlie had no chance if he began working on a cure right now without giving her fresh red cells first. “Any doctor would declare you clinically dead right now. They’d never attempt to do what I’m about to do…” Guessing at blood types was nothing one could effectively do, but the man was ready with his equipment to tell what Charlie’s was after a simple test. A bag was prepared with fresh blood from a container and he proceeded to begin the transfusion. The vitals took a while to begin raising, but the biggest danger had passed. “Good thing I never received my doctorate.”
“Now let’s see what… oh!” The practitioner gasped as he was making sure Charlie was in a comfortable position and clumsily knocked something off her. He quickly crouched and picked up the dropped object, “Hmm? Is this a vial?” he looked down intently, as if trying to take a guess of what was inside. “Well well, what have we here…?”
A minute of mesmerizing himself was all the man needed to realize he was getting nowhere by wasting time. “I can find out later. Must engineer that cure,” he said, but before beginning he carefully undid the lid to the vial and used a syringe to extract a few cubic centimeters of the blue liquid. He put half of it on a sampler and set it on his compound analyzing machine, then went off to a different part of his underground laboratory to get to work on the actual job.
Half an hour later, the scientist was finally done with the batch of the antidote. The compound was a lite blue in color and that meant he had been successful. “Ahhh. Got to say, you’re one tough customer lady, but you sure give a man reason to push his limits! This should’ve taken me two hours,” he laughed a bit, knowing he wouldn’t receive any sort of response from the sleeping girl.
At that same time, a ping from the machine on the far side of the room alerted the mysterious middle aged man, who just couldn’t resist his curiosity. “Well mon petit, you’ll have to forgive me. You can wait a couple minutes longer right? After all I’m doing this free of charge!” he chuckled, sliding with his wheeled chair over to the compound analyzer. He set the syringe with the antidote on the tray next to another syringe and started peeking into the microscope attached to the machine. Scheme-quality feeds and other scientific gibberish started appearing in front of the medical expert, work of his highly advanced lenses which allowed him to both observe and scan compounds at the same time. “This…” he was left speechless. He gasped and looked back at his slumbering patient, “Why were you carrying this?” he grunted suddenly. “The Recombinator. Schmidt’s work… It’s the genuine article. The protein links are perfect, the bonds are entirely malleable, it’s… it’s beautiful…” he trailed off, so distracted in his observation to realize what was happening near the entrance to his lab.
“Hey, ah found somethin’! Look’it dis ‘ere door!” one of the American goons yelled, his gun pointing at a metal door at the end of one of the many tunnels they’d been through. “Bet’cha it’s the exit. In yer ugly mug, Feng!”
“It’s Zeng. Now get out of the way!” the Chinese guard angrily said, pushing his fellow guard before heading over to the metal door. He was surprised to see the rim of the door gleaming with a bit of light. “Whoever lives in here doesn’t count on guests, huh. Time to show them they need to be prepared for any surprise visit.”
The three armed guards busted into the practitioner’s lab, surprising the unarmed man, who turned around and instinctively lifted his hands in surprise. “Mon dieu… What are you gentlemen doing here?”
“Hmm, she could be who we’re looking for. Search her, Maxwells,” Zeng told to the American, moving over to the startled scientist, “Who are you? Where are we?”
“Oh, I’d be no one if by association you’re asking for my profession, mon frère! I’d just be an observer of the world and its natural order!”
Weirded out by the man’s flamboyant words, Zeng just shook his head and uttered “Just your name will do.”
“Pierre! Oh, are you by chance lost?” the jolly one answered and asked at the same time, getting off his chair and approaching the asian, “There’s an exit up there. I usually help people who get trapped in the- how do you call them? Sand vortexes! Hmm, the quicksand! Oui.”
“No quicksand, old man. Just some crazy woman running off with something that didn’t belong to her.” Zeng was losing his patience. He turned around and looked at his partners sternly, “Well?”
“The chick’s empty, Feng,” Maxwells said, “Fits da descripts boss man gave us ‘tho. Ah say we take her anyway!”
“What? Non non, unacceptable! I can’t allow you to remove my patient yet. She’s just survived a bullet wound and I was about to cure her toxin ailed body!” Pierre objected loudly. Zeng turned around and pointed the barrel of his gun right under the medic’s chin.
“Bullet wound, you say?” he asked, getting a quick, exaggerated series of nods from Pierre. Zeng turned once again to look at the female’s arm, noticing a sutured wound where their Captain had sniped the arm of their target, “It’s her alright. We’re taking her.”
“B-but, the toxin! She will never again be able to move if I don’t inject the cure… s’il vous plaît!”
“You might be in cahoots with her, no go, doc.”
“Ahh, no need to call me that, after all I’ve never…”
“Save it! Where is the cure?” Zeng impatiently barked.
“Feng what da heck man? Why we curin’ the broad?”
“The Captain told us she was expendable, but the Boss has a beef with her. A personal beef. Don’t you see? We can get a big, fat bonus if we deliver her just as she escaped him. He’ll want to put his fat british hands on this woman.”
“Ah like how yer thinkin’ cap’s workin’,” Maxwells grinned.
“It’s on that tray… take the lite blue syringe and just inject her right arm with it. Please do be careful not to inject the-”
“Jus’ the blue syringe eh? No big deal! Hoooh? Hey Feng, look’it what ah found!” Maxwells said, shaking the silver vial in his fingers as it had been left on the table.
“So that is what we’ve been looking for eh. Here’s hoping it’s not stupid kid candy again… Go on and give her the cure, man!”
“Yeah yeah, blue syringe…” Maxwells looked down at the tray with two syringes. He took the blue one and went by the metal table where Charlie lie asleep. “Right arm right doc?”
“Indeedly so! Just be sure to apply proper disinfectant after…”
“Quiet!” Zeng growled again. Pierre fell silent but then noticed from afar that the syringe Maxwells was pressing against his patient’s arm only had half the dose he had filled it with. From a distance it couldn’t quite be told apart, but the color didn’t matter to Pierre. There was only one other syringe in use that wasn’t the antidote.
“Non! Non non, you must desist! Do not inject that syringe!”
“Say wha?” Maxwells blinked, he already was pumping the blue solution into Charlie.
“Mon dieu! You nincompoop! I said lite-blue!”
“Whut’s the difference? You said blue, there were two blues.”
“Mindless brute, you’ve injected the wrong one! Surely you’ve killed the poor girl!” Pierre exclaimed.
“First ah hear of an antidote that kills patients. Ya sure yer a doctor mate?”
“Maxwells, you better not have snuffed her, because I’d been expecting a bonus after this trek!” Zeng groaned, looking at the slumbering patient. Pierre fearfully looked at the vitals scanner, but was surprised to see vitals raising instead of dropping.
Unaware to anybody in that room, there was something going on inside of Charlie, something unnatural, something which hadn’t been planned by none of the men inside that room. Charlie’s toxic blood was on a sub-level of being fatal to her nervous system, the antidote had been made in order to purge the residuals, but no antidote had been administered to the female.
Instead, there was something else working in her body now. The recombinator bacteria was running rampant within a human being’s body, assimilating tissue and reworking it to the genetic level, harmonizing protein chains and optimizing the performance of all the cells in Charlie’s body. The venom was meant to be repelled, but its negative properties had been recycled by the bacteria working at uncanny speed, breaking apart the basic components of the toxin’s compounds and reworking them to not only not damage Charlie’s body but to mix with it down with her own genetic pattern.
Nobody was aware any of this was happening, and nobody, not even Pierre, would’ve been able to guess what was about to happen. The vitals scanner seemed to stabilize finally after a peak in heartbeat rate before Charlie’s eyes suddenly opened wide and she let out a loud gasp, taking in a generous gulp of much needed air. Three rifles pointed her way as soon as her vision cleared and she realized she wasn’t in the arachnid nightmare her brain had machinated for her during her sleep.
“Bad day, bad day, bad day,” Charlie told herself in defeat as she glanced left and right, even behind. She was surrounded!
“Oh merci! Merci the heavens, merci mon dieu! The lady lives! It’s… how do you call it? A miracle!” Pierre cheerfully exclaimed, although no one else joined in the festivities.
“Good, now I don’t have a reason to shoot a hole through your head Maxwells,” Zeng merely smirked.
“Bah, who needs dem quack doctors. Call me Doc Max from now on, Feng! Way bettah than dis one,” he swung his arm in victory, his rifle accidentally knocking down a small metal backpack that crashed loudly against the ground, which set in on. Suddenly a small drum-like sound started beating with a certain rhythm. It was nothing special, it just seemed to loop the same tune again and again without change. “Whoops. Mah bad, doc.”
“Oww, my head…” Charlie groaned slightly as she noticed the more she focused her hearing into the rhythm the worse it felt for her. “Shut that thing off!” she suddenly shouted, the headache only making her feel more aggressive, as if wanting to either crush what was making that sound or run away from its source.
Pierre’s eyes widened, “That’s… not possible, that gadget uses a certain sound frequency which only arachnids are susceptible to… It shouldn’t work on humans unless…” his train of thought suddenly stopped, his jaw dropped, and he just couldn’t begin to put together anymore words.
Charlie continued to scream, holding by her head. The pain was unbearable. She felt herself leap forwards at Maxwells.
“Oh, so you want sum, bitch? C’mon then, I ain’t afraid of no dumb broad!” the confident man said, ready to punch the stuffing out of the aggressive girl, but she ducked right before his fist could connect with her. This act alone sent everyone into a trance as they watched Charlie move too fast for them to make sense of how she had managed to duck after she had dove with such momentum at the large man. In fact, Maxwells hadn’t been Charlie’s target. She balled her fists and suddenly drove them down like a gorilla would when wanting to smash a particularly tough coconut, and like a coconut smashed by a gorilla the gadget on the floor was reduced to a pile of scrap and debris.
With that display of brute strength, even Maxwells was left speechless. But the silence was cut short as Charlie grabbed herself by the head and began thrashing around. “Grrr!” she growled in pain, screaming. The pain was slowly leaving her head but now it was spreading all over her body! It wasn’t the sharp pain anyone would expect however, instead of sharp pain stemming from an internal wound this was more of an annoyance, a constant subtle pounding, a tickling in her insides. Something that Charlie had no control of was happening within her, and she wanted it out! She was irritated, she had to get out!
Taking the time to look at a set of stairs going up she didn’t even stop to ask, she just with uncanny agility over the large man blocking her path and began running out of the lab, paying no heed to any of the men, savior or persecutors. Their daze finally broken by her escape, Zeng ordered Maxwells and Jacks to give chase. “We can’t let her escape, not now!”
But Charlie had no plans of staying behind. She felt cramped even though the place was humongous in scope, she was able to fully exert newfound agility and strength as well as speed. She felt good when she ran, jumped, bounced off the many walls. It felt amazing, as if she was drawing power and energy from some untapped well within herself! But she still wanted out. The cozy madeshift living room she had made it out to wasn’t enough for her.
Wanting to escape through the nearest door she found, Charlie didn’t notice, or didn’t care, that as soon as she pulled the locked metal door in her way, the raw strength coming out and into her arm was just enough to pull the door off its hinges. Unaware or uncaring, she flung the door away as if it was a baseball bat held by the batter who just hit a home-run, and just like one she began making the speediest run of her life, her destination: freedom.
But as Charlie made it into one the darkest, dampest caves she’d ever seen before, she realized something. At the end of the tunnel she saw light, and her eyes weren’t agreeing with it. She had to stay in this cave, where it was nice and cozy, where she had room to move and do as she wished, but she didn’t want the light. It wasn’t hurting her, but there was this new feeling of preference which made her feel attached with the sight.
“What the hell? She forced a door…” Jacks commented as the guards made it to the upper level of Pierre’s concealed abode.
“Scratch that Jacks, she didn’t just force a door, she TORE it off its hinges! What’s going on here…?”
“Bah! So she’s fit! Ah ain’t afraid of no butch broad!” Maxwells said, charging into the passage Charlie had taken.
Charlie looked around curiously, soothed by the place she found herself in. It felt like she finally could afford to feel free, the annoying feeling of light, irritating pain was almost gone… She just needed time to herself. “I just need a little rest…” she told herself, and as if suddenly affected by what seemed to be months of unrest she began heading nearby a wall, where her fingers began carving a tunnel. Strength beyond her wildest dreams allowed her to dig through crust and hardened minerals, allowing herself a small alcove where she would take residence. Wobbling a bit, she suddenly made it into the hole and proceeded to cover after herself. She wanted to be undisturbed.
But just as Charlie was beginning to relax, her body suddenly began to react wildly again. Something was inside her, causing the tingling, changing her from the inside out, adding, mixing, changing, becoming.
She noticed how the pain in her right arm was beginning to shoot up again, but before she could even complain she noticed the sutures being pushed off as her flesh seemed to regenerate the damaged tissue in record time. The swelling in her leg had long disappeared, not that it had mattered to her earlier. Charlie became scared at first, “What’s happening to me? This was going to be an easy mission… Am I feeling guilty over my failure…?” she asked herself, unaware that part of the very thing she had been sent to extract was now in her body, stimulating every cell in her body, rewriting information, subverting its normal routines and protocols to satisfy the recombinator bacteria’s whims. It had to optimize, it had to mix, it had to perfect. It had to recreate. That was its sole purpose behind its creation.
But Charlie didn’t know that, nor what was about to happen to her. She was filled with anxiety all of a sudden, the tingling in her body beginning to spread all over her form. Without being able to react in any other way she just moaned as she felt pressure in her back, her feet and her chest. The first thing she did was to bring a hand down at her chest, which felt tight against the tattered robes she had been wearing. “It’s… what’s this? My breasts, they…” she gasped, moaning again as the feeling intensified with her touch. All of a sudden the tingling began to concentrate into one blast of pure bliss as she felt her natural C cups to suddenly begin swelling, pushing her bra and the fabric of her clothes away. The bra was putting on a valiant effort, but the rate at which Charlie’s bosom was enlarging was too much, and with the stretching sound of fabric tearing off, her boob flesh won the tugging competition. Her bra’s straps broke off and then her palm felt as her huge bosom spilled onto her palm. She could feel their size and weight had increased as she felt them through the robes. “It’s… ahhh! It’s gotten bigger, my chest! It’s so big now!” she moaned to herself as her D cups continued to swell. She felt an irresistible urge to grope herself, and thus she moved both hands to her immense orbs and began squeezing the growing mounds.
She was so busy playing with her growing mounds that she didn’t notice how her feet were undergoing a certain change. A small bump started to push against her sneakers, which was in fact something growing out of the back of her feet. The stretching sound was only muffled by Charlie’s moans of pleasure as she played with herself, but the sneakers wouldn’t resist. They busted from behind as her feet sprouted a sharp yet short talon that grazed flint and roused a few sparks. Its sharpness was great enough, but that wasn’t all that was granted to Charlie. Her feet continued their metamorphosis, her toes seemingly melting and then melding together, bones shifting and fusing into what seemed to be two extra talons, these a bit longer than the one behind her ankle.
Then came her back. Charlie’s tailbone was beginning to elongate, but only enough for what seemed to be a mound of gooey material to protrude from her coccyx, which began to solidify and form into a solid appendage. A second, much smaller mound grew atop the first one, repeating the process of molding and solidification. Four extra mounds of the same size followed, the tail-like appendage folding to fit inside the confined room neatly. It looked like the segmented tail of any scorpion, and to complete its appearance the tip formed a curved stinger from where pink liquid finely excreted, making a sizzling sound as it touched the ground nearby.
But Charlie was too into her new set of knockers to pay attention to this. Her growing double Ds were still getting larger, and with the robes stuck under her weight their elasticity was engaged in a losing battle with her great boobies. Eventually, the weight and pressure were so great that the flesh began popping through the seams that were being opened by Charlie’s needy fingers. She needed to feel her sweater meat, she had to squeeze and feel her endowments! And so she did when her breasts reached a size of two large softballs, tearing through the front of her outfit. “Mmmm… so big, so sensitive. Oh, whatever’s happening to me don’t sto-” but before she could finish her sentence she noticed the little light filtering through the cracks of her hidey hole was showing her the humongous tail by her front, “Oh god, oh god! Giant scorpion, AHHH!” she screamed out in a panic, not that it could be heard outside…
Much.
“Hey! Did you hear anything?” Jacks said, the group already outside the tunnel and into the same cave where Charlie had decided to hide to ‘rest’. “Sounded like a girl screaming…”
“The hell, you think she hid in here? When she could’ve just bailed? I say we contact the Cap, look at that exit. I bet she’s on her way to the airport as we speak! She’ll be laughing all the way back to wherever she’s headed to!” Zeng growled.
But Charlie wasn’t in the mood to laugh. In fact, she was so terrified it was a incredible she hadn’t started screaming again. She held the segmented tail that was protruding from her back just as she would try to move a heavy hose from one side to another. “This… this is mine!” she gasped, then felt her toes wiggle… or what were left of them anyway. “What? My feet, I… I lost my feet!” she panicked again, trying to move her new claw-like feet to experiment, “Oh god, what’s happened to me? I have a scorpion’s tail, clawed feet and… cow udders?” she semi-jokingly told herself, bouncing her basically unchanged but larg
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