Subject: Gun Dreams (part 5)
From: Harvey Torrance Griffin
Date: 4/20/1996, 12:26 AM
To: fanfic@tendo-dojo.ranma.net

        As before, all praise/blame goes to Marco de la Cruz
<marco@chinook.physics.utoronto.ca>
        Don't worry, X-Change Students is alive and well.
 
HTG
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----

Shumira woke up, startled by her dream. She routinely had
nightmares about her brother's death, but this had been much
worse, and much more vivid. And yet the strange way it had
ended had left her more confused than anything else. But
Shumira's simple train of thought quickly diminished her
preoccupation about the events she had envisioned, and after
stretching her arms high in the air as she let out a big yawn
the dream soon became a vague memory. She looked around and
was surprised to find her friend sleeping next to her, leaning
against the wall.

She winced uncomfortably when she heard her stomach growl. She
hadn't eaten in over two days, and there was no food at all in
the small cave she lived in.

    "Nee-san," she whispered, "are you awake?"

The small girl opened her right eye to see Shumira's face mere
centimeters away from hers.

    "I am now" she whispered back, opening both eyes.

    "We go out now, eh? Get money for food, O.K.?"

    "O.K.!" replied the girl, giving her a smile. She really
did not feel hungry, she never did, but the prospect of having
breakfast did seem quite attractive.

Both girls quickly changed, picking up some tattered clothes
from the various garments strewn on the floor. The little
girl, however, made sure to put on her overcoat and hide
within it the blade she always carried. Shumira watched her as
she carefully hid the knife, but not a word did she utter.

They left the cave and were greeted by a cloudy day. The skies
were overcast, and although last night's storm had ceased it
would be only a matter of time before it would start to rain
again. As they walked along the deserted streets Shumira
pointed out some of the semi-destroyed buildings they passed
by and promptly gave an overview of their history, or at least
her version of it.

    "That was Shumira's first home after getting here."

The small building she showed the girl was in very bad
condition, the roof severely damaged, on the verge of
collapsing, the cracked stone walls covered with graffiti. The
architecture, however, was quite distinct from that of other
ruins, the entrance a large arch under an empty bell tower.

    "Shumira didn't stay there long. It is a bad place."

The girl turned towards Shumira, an inquisitive look on her
face.

    "Bad place?"

Shumira gave her a nervous glance, and lowered her voice, even
though no one was around to hear them.

    "See how the building looks funny? It is also strange
inside. When Shumira first went in it was almost empty, just
lots of benches and a creepy statue at one end. There were
also little rooms against the walls. Shumira slept in one of
those, in a big red chair."

The girl was by now almost whispering.

    "One night a noise woke up Shumira. Five guys came in with
a pretty girl, little like Nee-san. The girl was screaming
because they hit her a lot and shouted at her. It made Shumira
very scared. Especially one guy who didn't shout much but
carried a large hammer in his hand. Two guys holded the girl's
arms and legs when another one of them saw the statue, and
they threw it on the floor. The statue was very large and
scary. It had a guy hanging from his arms and feet, and he had
thorns on his head.  The guy smashed the statue into little
pieces with his large, black hammer and left only the cross."

    "The guys then took the girl's dress off and put her on
the cross, but upside down, with her hands together and her
legs apart."

Shumira glanced apprehensively towards the building, fear
swelling within her even as she spoke.

    "Shumira was almost crying, but was so scared she did not
make even a little sound. The girl kept screaming and
screaming. The guys held the girl and the guy with the hammer
took out some large nails from a bag he had. He grabbed one of
the girl's feet and started to hit a nail with the hammer
through her foot, until it was nailed to the cross. The guy
did the same to her other foot and then put her hands one over
the other and nailed them both and there was a lot of blood
and the girl screamed and screamed and Shumira was more and
more frightened."

Shumira began to tremble a bit, but seemed to be mesmerized by
the ruins as she continued her account.

    "When the girl was nailed each guy got on top of her and
between her legs and made love to her. It was the first time
Shumira saw a boy and a girl do it. But the poor girl just
screamed and screamed and screamed.  After a while they all
finished and the girl still screamed. The guy with the hammer
then took a nail and put it on her head. He hit it into her
head and the girl screamed so loud it hurt Shumira's ears. He
took another nail and put in into her head and the girl opened
her mouth very wide but did not scream anymore. He put in some
more and the girl looked like the statue upside down, with
nails instead of thorns, and a lot of blood. Shumira never saw
so much blood, and was very, very scared, but was very, very
quiet."

    "The guys left but Shumira did not move for a long, long
time. By morning the floor was covered with blood and the girl
had become white like the statue, her eyes and mouth were wide
open and had the same scary stare. Shumira got out and quickly
ran and ran and ran and never went back inside again."

Shumira looked at the girl, an expression of fright on her
face, but soon her features softened and she gave her a little
smile.

    "But that was long ago and Shumira never saw the bad guys
again. Now that Nee-san came Shumira is not afraid anymore,
Nee-san can beat the biggest meanie guy, ne?"

The little girl looked at Shumira, uncertain of what to
respond. Before she could say anything, Shumira grabbed her
arm and started to drag her down the street.

-----

After a while the landscape which surrounded the girls began
to change.  A few warehouses and old buildings surfaced among
the rubble and garbage. In spite of the damage and filth, the
structures were clearly in use, and some apartments were
inhabited. A few shops were soon evident and many people could
be seen on the streets. About twenty minutes later they
reached the outskirts of the "new" MegaTokyo. The sidewalks
were now bristling with commuters, thousands of cars jamming
the streets. All around them enormous skyscrapers breached the
skies, goliaths of metal and plastic with people continuously
pouring in and out of them. They marveled at the never-ending
window displays of the shops that lined Ginza, which offered
everything a citizen of the world's most powerful economy
could ever want. From the most luxurious jewels to the
ultimate in home robotics, everything was there for the take
of those who could afford it. Shumira "ooohh"-ed and
"aaahh"-ed at almost everything she saw, but stood silently in
front of the largest and most colourful window dressing they
had come across so far. The toy store had obviously spared no
expense in constructing this lavish display, but the crowd of
people, both children and adults, which stood fascinated in
front of it clearly proved it had been well worth the
cost. The layout was truly impressive. It showed an
exquisitely constructed miniature castle on a large, blue
lake, with dozens of towers and an aqueduct which crossed from
one of end of the maquette to the other, where a tower clock
stood. Tiny figures scurried around the large scenario: a
long-faced man running across the rooftops, a pretty girl
dressed in white on a balcony, a police inspector surrounded
by policemen on a patio. But the action was not constrained to
the building. Above the lake and over the castle more things
were happening.  There was a girl in a bright blue dress,
flying on a glider close to the surface of the water. Above
her and to the right a rather large animal, like a cross
between an owl and a bear, flew over the aqueduct on a top
with the help of his umbrella, a large grin on his face. A few
centimetres to his left a blue plane chased a beautiful red
aircraft piloted by a pig, while a cute young witch and her
cat flew past them.  Other strange looking artifacts floated
among the large cotton clouds that clothed the skies. But what
caught both girls' attention above everything else was the
second palace which crowned the scene. This castle, however,
was much lovelier than the other one. It was covered with
gardens and vines which fell from the top of its towers to its
metallic underside. Pools and fountains in which tiny fish
could be seen surrounded the building, and an enormous tree
sprouted from the centre of the castle. In one of the gardens
two children stood in front of a robot which was covered with
moss, offering them a minuscule flower which was so finely
detailed that even at this scale one could make out its
petals. But what made this structure all the more surrealistic
and astounding was that the castle, along with its towers,
gardens, pools and trees, was somehow hovering above the lake,
suspended in the air by some unknown force. Both girls gazed
at the floating castle for quite while, ignoring the multitude
around them. The reminiscence of two dreams, one much dimmer
than the other, although equally persistent, stirred within
each of their minds. The shadows of vague memories formed and
faded away, leaving them with a sensation of loss and a bit of
sadness. An old man beside them who was also admiring the
display looked on with a melancholy not unlike the one drawn
on the girls' faces. His, however, were not memories of the
future, but of the past, of a time when a young boy's
imagination would take him above the clouds to rescue the girl
he loved, and save the world from the tyrannical ruler of
Laputa, the castle in the sky.

-----

    "Here!"

Shumira sat down, legs crossed, on the street, her back
against a wall.  She took a small white handkerchief from her
pocket, carefully unfolding it and placing it on the ground in
front of her. Inside were three necklaces, which basically
consisted of a little face hanging from a string. They were
made of small bits and pieces of leather, clumsily sewn
together, the rather disconsolate product of Shumira's many
hours of work.

    "Shumira didn't have more spares," she told her friend,
"but maybe we can charge a bit extra, ne?"

The little girl gave Shumira a small smile. The floor was less
dirty than usual, the heavy rains having cleaned away most of
the filth, but she could still detect the vague stench of
urine, the traces no doubt of one of MegaTokyo's countless
homeless which lived on the streets. It was then when
something on the wall caught her attention. Clumsily
fingerpainted with what appeared to be a discoloured brown
pigment read a caption which she did not understand.

    V tzentre kompozitzii, mesya dorozhnyj prax,
    bosaya devochka idet tuda, gde tonut v oblakax,
    ognya i smrada,
    vorota ada.

She studied at it for a few moments, puzzled. She then looked
down at Shumira, who looked back at her, enquiringly. She
glanced at the writing once more before squatting down on the
floor.

Both girls sat in silence, watching the thousands of
pedestrians walking past them. Shumira gave some passerby's a
big smile, but it was usually met with total
indifference. This however did not seem to discourage the
girl, who simply sighed and turned in search of another
potential customer.

Minutes passed, turning into hours. They had little luck, as
most people just scurried along, unaware even of their
presence. Some were simply scroungers, wandering aimlessly
through the streets, a look of recognition momentarily
reflecting in their lifeless eyes. Those who were better off
generally glanced at them but for an instant, and quickly
accelerated their pace. The little girl, however, could almost
read their expressions, a mixture of pity, embarrassment and,
in a strange way, disgust. A small but obstinate knot formed
in her stomach with every such gesture, an unpleasant
sensation she could not readily identify, but which steadily
grew within her.

    "How much for this one?"

The young woman pointed at the most colourful of the
handicrafts, a large-eyed face with a big red tongue sticking
out. Although her dress was a simple blue, rather formal
attire, her voice had a certain dignified and cool tone. Her
somewhat hard features seemed familiar to the little girl, who
watched her intently.

    "Oooooh! You chose prettiest one! Shumira will let pretty
lady have it for... uh... sixty sen!"

    "Very well, Shumira, sixty sen it is."

    "Thank you very much, pretty lady!"

The woman gave Shumira the money, and took the necklace in
return. She stood for a second, looking at the small face in
her hand. For a brief moment her expression seemed to
softened, and she shut her eyes, slowly closing her fist.

    "Are you O.K.?" asked Shumira with an apprehensive voice.

The woman opened her eyes and looked back at the concerned
girl.

    "Yes, of course..."

She seemed about to say something else, but instead just let
out a small sigh. She gave them both one last fleeting glance,
and turned away, quickly loosing herself in the crowd.

    "Shumira, did you notice anything about that woman?"

    "Yes!" the girl exultingly replied, as she gave her the
money, "Shumira made good deal! Got an extra ten sen! Take
it!"

The girl looked into Shumira's big blue eyes and took the
money, her lips forming a rather sad smile.

    "Nee-san can take better care of it, ne? Shumira dumb,
always looses everything!"

    "No Shumira, you are not dumb. Please don't say that."

Shumira didn't say anything, she just gave her an enthusiastic
nod and sat back, on the lookout for another possible buyer.

She didn't notice when her little friend besides her quickly
rubbed an eye, wiping the moisture of a tear that had begun to
form there.

-----

Five hours passed and the girl was starting to seriously worry
about her friend. They hadn't managed to sell any more of the
little handicrafts, and Shumira had by then crouched against
the wall, wrapping her arms around her legs, her chin on her
knees. Her stomach growled every few minutes, and Shumira
grimaced in pain, but didn't say anything. The little girl
knew that she was suffering. Shumira was a frail, sick girl,
and for all she knew she hadn't eaten in at least a day. On
more than one occasion she noticed her wiping a small trail of
blood flowing from her nose. The sun had already gone down,
and the temperature was quickly dropping. Even if she managed
to provide some warmth by means of her torch she knew that
Shumira would be in serious danger if she didn't get some food
soon. She kept silently insulting herself for not having done
at least *something* to aid her friend, help her somehow. But
what could she do? She didn't know how to do *anything*. She
didn't know who she was, or even her name. She was in a world
she knew nothing about, alone save for this girl who was now
suffering because of her and her stupidity. And all these
heartless people, walking past them, feeling pity for the
pathetic spectacle they made, but also disgusted by the stench
of their filthy clothes and their squalid appearance. All
these miserable persons who pretended not to see them, who
didn't care if her friend was hungry and hurt and
suffering. All these despicable, cruel and worthless humans.

Fury and despair swelled within her. And hatred. Hate for this
place, this time, these people... and above all, hate towards
herself.

    "Nee-san O.K.?" asked Shumira, with a small voice.

The little girl turned and saw Shumira looking with worry at
her hand.  She looked down and noticed that she had been
grinding her fist against the ground. It had made a hole about
three centimetres deep in the solid concrete of the sidewalk.

She looked at Shumira, a look of determination on her face.

    "Shumira, I'm going to get something to eat and be right
back. Sit tight and don't go away, O.K.? I'll be back in ten
minutes."

    "But we no have enough money..."

    "Don't worry, just stay put, ne?"

    "O.K., but please no go away too long? Shumira wants to go
home."

    "I promise," she answered, giving her friend a wink as she
quickly began to run down the street. Night had fallen, and
the number of commuters had diminished drastically. The
streets, especially in this part of the city, were now almost
empty.


She wasn't sure what she was going to do, but she had to get
some food somehow. Along the streets dozens and dozens of
vending machines were lined up, almost one next to the
other. They all offered a variety of items: soft drinks,
liquor, newspapers, cigarettes and transport passes, among
other things. Others sold snacks, which ranged from simple
treats to complete synthetic meals. It was in front of one of
these where the girl stopped. She began to press the scroll
button which showed her a small digitalized picture of the
plate and its corresponding price. She quickly grew
discouraged as she scanned the menu. The cheapest meal, a
ramen soup, was 7 yen. As she went on with the smaller snacks
she frowned in frustration: 2.50 yen, 3 yen, 1 yen. Finally,
she arrived to the last item on the list, a chukamanju ball
for 50 sen. The look of hope that momentarily crossed her face
quickly faded away when she saw the small red dot besides the
picture, indicating that the machine had ran out of that
particular supply.

Her expression was sombre as she stepped back and looked at
the machine.  It was a large container of metal and plastic,
about two-and-a-half metres high, maybe a metre-and-a-half
wide. Apart from the selection panel, the money and card
slots, and a trapdoor from where the food came out, its front
was a smooth, brightly coloured plastic plate. But the cover
actually curved, so that the whole machine was of a
cylindrical shape. She ran her hand over its surface. The
dispenser was obviously designed to withstand not only the
usual inclemency of the outdoors, but the more nasty type of
vandalism that plagued the streets. Two centimetres of
graffiti-proof duraglax was generally enough to discourage
even the most tenacious of hooligans. Without even realizing
it, she slowly began to open and close one of her fists.

She peered down the avenue which was mostly lit by the soft
glow of the vending machines. She darted down the street, in
search of another container which might still have some
chukamans left. Before long she reached the entrance of a
small alleyway. Even here, machines were crammed on both sides
of the narrow road. She decided that since these were not
located on the main sidewalk there would perhaps be a better
chance to find the cheap snack she was looking for. As she
entered the alley she noticed someone there.

    "Fucking piece of shit!"

She could tell from the voice she heard it was a woman, albeit
a strange looking one. She had no time to waste, however, so
she swiftly passed behind her. As she studied the large
cylinders and refrigerator-like boxes she heard her violently
kicking a machine.

    "Fuck! One fucking smoke, dammit! Piece of GODDAMN FUCKING
SHIT!!!"

The little girl finally found what she was looking for. She
let out a small squeal of delight when she found it still had
some chukamans inside. Shumira would be so happy! She quickly
fed a 50 sen coin into the slot and retrieved the small,
neatly wrapped dough ball from the tray.

    "Give me your money, please."

The girl spun around and was suddenly taken aback. The woman
was staring at her with a stoned gaze, speaking in a toneless,
husky voice. For a moment the girl stood frozen, fascinated by
the creature in front of her.

The woman was about 30 centimetres taller than she, although
her jet black leather boots added about 5 cm to her
height. She wore an equally dark, tight, lustrous plastic
dress which completely covered her body save for her head and
hands. By contrast her skin was almost white, which
conveniently provided a perfect canvas for the many tattoos
imprinted on it. The back of her hands, for example, had drawn
upon them a skeleton which perfectly mimicked the one within
her body. Each bone which formed her hand was rendered in
great detail, tracing the real one below the skin. All five
knuckles and phalanxes were sketched with amazing realism. She
could also see part of the wrist, although the sleeve of the
suit hid whatever lay up her arm. She suspected, however, that
her whole skeleton must have been tattooed on her skin. All of
it except, of course, for her head. She had obviously saved
her face for a far more shocking design, one which the girl
couldn't stop staring at.

The woman blankly looked back at her with her five eyes.

Two of them were exquisitely tattooed on the prominence of her
cheeks, just below the real ones. They were a bit larger than
the latter, and were colourfully painted in red and blue,
surrounded by long, black eyelashes. The fifth eye was on her
forehead. This one, however, was different. Although it too
was coloured, she could tell the trace was imprinted on the
skin somehow, like a scar. She suddenly realized it had been
branded there, burnt upon her flesh and painted on
afterwards. A thin metallic chain hung from inside her mouth,
attached to a ring which pierced her tongue. It arched in
front of her chin and ended in a little skull-shaped earring
which punctured her left ear. About half a dozen smaller
ornaments shaped like stars, rings and yet more skulls
perforated the thin cartilage. She had very short, black hair,
which made impossible to conceal the fact that her right ear
was missing. That she had intentionally cut it off was almost
unbelievable, for in spite of this freak transformation she
had decided to inflict upon her being, the little girl could
tell that the young woman, who was in her late twenties at
most, had been truly beautiful, once.

Still looking at her, she began to stammer.

    "But, I-I don't have any..."

The woman's fist shot out, knuckles smashing against her
cheek. No less than four bones in her hand snapped like dry
twigs, splintering through the skin, exactly were the tattoos
were drawn.

The girl's reaction was inhumanly quick. So quick that the
pain that shot through the woman's arm had not yet registered
in her mind when already the girl's left elbow had made
contact with her face. At over half the speed of sound the
blow had devastating consequences. Her cheek exploded as the
impact instantly pulverized sixteen of her teeth, and tore her
jaw from its hinges, splitting it in two at the very tip of
her chin. The chain she wore ripped through both her tongue
and earlobe, the latter easily shredding so that the links now
whipped from her mouth.  Her head spun so quickly that her
body could not manage to twist fast enough to prevent her neck
from breaking in two. By the time she started reeling
backwards she was already dead. Brusquely staggering, she
crashed into a coin-machine, violently smashing the duraglax
cover with her body. Thick plastic splinters tore through suit
and skin, slicing and embedding themselves deep within her
flesh. She somehow bounced forward, her disjointed corpse
contorting grotesquely until she finally collapsed on the
ground with a dull thud.

    "Careless of me," thought the little girl, grudgingly,
rubbing her face.

She sadly frowned when she realized she had accidentally
crushed the small chukamanju in her fist.

-----

    "Nee-san!"

Shumira's face lit up when she saw her friend with her arms
full of food trays and small bags made of colourful aluminum
foils.

    "But how...?"

The little girl lay the packages in front of her friend and
offered her one which supposedly contained "a deliciously
fresh roast beef sandwich accompanied with a healthy,
vitamin-enriched vegetable salad!". Shumira took the small
aluminum tray but didn't take her eyes of the girl.

    "But, how did Nee-san get all this?"

The little girl gave her an embarrassed smile and scratched
the back of her head.

    "Etooo, the machine broke, ne, and the stuff fell out,
see, and, well, it would have spoiled anyway, ne?

Shumira looked at the dinner on her lap. She noticed a few
crimson red droplets on the top which the little girl quickly
wiped away with her forearm.

    "Uh, the paint on the machine was, uh, wet. I guess it,
uh..."

    "Thank you *so* much, Nee-san!!!" interrupted Shumira, as
she quickly opened the package and began to hungrily take big
bites out of the sandwich.

Her friend smiled, relieved. She didn't like to lie to
Shumira, and she felt a tinge of remorse for having taken the
food. But it *had* fallen out of the vending machine, and it
really hadn't been her fault. She sat down next to Shumira who
had almost finished the meal, and opened a sandwich for
herself.

    "Shumira, I've got a little present for you."

    "Mmm? Whmt 'sit?" the white-haired girl asked, politely
covering her mouth.

She handed her a small bag. Shumira swallowed hard as she took
it and slowly opened it. Her eyes turned moist as she looked
up to her friend.

    "Thank you" she whispered, as a tear ran down her cheek
and fell on the little chukamanju ball she held in her hands.

-----

As they silently walked back to Shumira's "home" carrying the
food they had not eaten, the little girl began to hum a soft
tune. The night was exceptionally quiet, only a few dogs
barking in the distance and the dim howl of far away sirens.

    "Nee-san has such a pretty voice! What music is that, eh?"

She gave Shumira a somewhat puzzled look. She hadn't been
aware that she had been humming.

    "Give me your packages and take out what's in my
overcoat's left pocket."

Shumira pulled out the little musical box, and studied it,
confused.

    "Go on, turn the handle."

As the melody formed in the cool night's air Shumira let out
an exclamation of surprise and astonishment. She was
fascinated by the tiny mechanism, and the sparkling sounds it
produced. She played the brief tune again and again, sometimes
quickly, sometimes very, very slowly.

    "You can keep it if you like it."

Shumira was delighted with her new toy, but she soon stopped
playing and turned towards her friend.

    "Shumira also has a present for Nee-san!" she exclaimed,
"Not as good as Nee-san's gifts, but Nee-san likes music and
Shumira knows some cool songs!"

Very much to the little girl's amusement Shumira began to
quaver an upbeat tempo. She then started to sing, out of tune
and hesitating at first, but as she remembered the ballad and
gained confidence she began to harmonize and raise her
voice. Much to the girl's amazement Shumira began to sing in a
language she didn't understand, as she vocalized the song
phonetically word by word. Shumira was becoming so excited
that she started to clap her hands and dance as they walked,
her long white hair lashing through the air as she shook her
head. She motioned towards her friend and encouraged her to
sing along with her. By now the little girl had begun to trill
along to the melody, repeating some of the words she
heard. After a few minutes she had gotten into the music, and
soon both girls were heartily singing the unintelligible words
in unison, jumping and dancing around each other while she
deftly juggled the trays with one hand.

    "You and me we're going nowhere slowly
     and we gotta get away from the past
     There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere baby
     but we should be goin' nowhere fast!
     Everybody's goin' nowhere slowly
     They're only fighting for the chance to be last
     There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere baby
     but we should be goin' nowhere fast!"

The two little girls forgot their sorrow, and celebrated their
friendship. The future doesn't seem so bleak when you can
share it with someone who cares for you. Without realizing it,
hope began to dawn in their hearts.

Until, that is, the sound of gunshots exploded in their ears,
and Shumira's friend fell heavily to the ground.

-----

Shumira's world had exploded.

She stood frozen, unable to move, watching her friend lying
immobile on the ground, surrounded by the food trays and
little packages she had been carrying. She didn't even notice
when the four figures emerged from their hiding among the
ruins that surrounded them. Two of them were armed with heavy
chains coiled around their wrists, another carried a hammer.

A large, black hammer.

Terror began to flood Shumira's mind, an overpowering fear
which froze her soul.

And yet it could not even begin to match the raw panic she
felt when she heard the cruel and hoarse voice behind her.

    "Well, well, if it isn't the bionic bitch and her retarded
friend, the cocksucking whore. I'd knew we'd find you around
here, sooner or later."

Shumira slowly turned around, trembling like a leaf, her eyes
filled with tears, and faced the man behind her. The pimp
still held the smoking Smith & Wesson 640 in his right hand,
his left arm covered by a thick cast from his hand to the
elbow. He grinned at her, his rotten teeth showing from
between his twisted lips.

    "So, this is how you pay your saviour, you little
motherfucker?"

Shumira began to feel severely nauseous as the man's grin
widened.

    "I found you dying, rotting away in this shit-hole, you
lousy whore.  I saved your worthless, good-for-nothing
ass. You think you can leave me and start selling those pieces
of shit you make? You'll just starve to death again, you
little cocksucker, and as much as would like to see that, I've
got something to settle here first with you and this fucking
bitch."

    He motioned towards the men that stood around the little
girl on the ground.

    "Let 'er rip!"

They began to brutalize her, violently smashing the thick
chains against her small body. The clashing of metal filled
the air.

Shumira began to feel dizzy, the world started to spin around
her.

    "Don't worry, bitch, I won't kill you just yet. No use in
ruining the merchandise now, is there?" he laughed.

As the men with the chains continued to maul the girl, who was
attempting to protect herself by curling her body in a foetal
position, the man with the hammer stood observing, patiently
waiting for his turn.

    "Hit her harder, man, harder!" yelled one of them.

    "Fucking bitch! My arm's getting tired!" replied the
other, who was by now soaking in sweat.

After a few minutes the owner of the hammer took out a long,
thick nail from a holster which hung from is belt. The men
stopped hitting the girl as he knelt next to her, positioning
the tip of the nail against her eye, between her fingers.

    "I've always wanted to see what happens to these robotic
fuckers when you drive one of these babies into their skull,"
he murmured, carefully aiming the hammerhead, and lifting it
high over his head.

Suddenly there came a noise, not unlike an egg cracking.

The two men looked at the Hammer-man's face, and noticed a
small red dot on his forehead. His stare was blank as a thin
stream of blood snaked between his eyes and down the side of
his nose, until it reached his chin and began to drip. As he
fell forward they saw the head of the nail sticking out from
the back of his skull.

One of the men sensed a small tug on his chain, and then felt
something against his armpit. It was the girl's foot. Before
he realized what was happening, she yanked the chain.

Hard.

Flesh and cartilage ripped apart as she tore his arm from his
torso. He staggered backwards, screaming wildly, blood gushing
from the wound.

The third man stood stupefied, unable to react, until he saw
the girl facing him.

Her fist smashed into the man's chest, just below his left
nipple. It destroyed five ribs as it plunged into his thorax
and through his lung, which collapsed like a paper bag. The
trajectory of her arm curved slightly downwards, destroying
his spleen as her knuckles exploded through his back, covered
with blood, mucus, torn skin and some lung tissue that had
been caught between her fingers. The man looked down and saw
the girl's elbow pressed against his chest, but the fact that
the rest of her extremity was within his body simply hadn't
registered in his mind yet. She then grabbed his shoulder with
her free hand and proceeded to violently yank out her arm, but
not before opening her fist and extending her fingers. As a
result the wound was now a large star-shaped hole about
fifteen centimetres in diameter.

All this had occurred in about two seconds. The man looked up
to the girl, her forearm covered with blood and small pieces
of meat that had once formed part of his internal organs, and
opened his mouth, apparently trying to say something. A
wheezing sound came out of the cavity in his chest, his
windpipe having been severed in two places. A thick phlegm of
blood spurted from his mouth as he fell to his knees, dying as
he fell.

The pimp aimed the gun and fired twice. Even if his hand
hadn't been shaking, the girl's low leap presented a
difficult, quickly moving target. Both bullets zoomed past
her. By the time his finger began to tighten on the trigger
for the third time, the girl was already upon him.

She tightly grabbed his hand, forcing his grip around the
gun's butt, placing her index finger under his so that he was
unable to fire.

    "Fucking BI... AAAAAARRRGGHHHH!!!"

Brusquely twisting his arm, she drove him to his knees, and
then pushed him backwards, until he lay flat on the floor.

    "I'LL KILL YOU BOTH, WHORE! DO YOU HEAR ME!?!

He grimaced in pain as her knee struck his chest, pinning him
down. He began to wheeze as she increased the pressure on his
torso. Soon he was completely immobilized, his left arm in a
cast under her body, the right one held in place by the steel
grip, her left leg grinding his back against the ground. She
kept glaring at him, staring into his eyes, an ice cold
expression carved on her face. With her free arm she began to
fumble his pockets. She grinned when she felt the shape of a
small case in his breastpocket. Slowly, she took it out and
carefully opened it.  Stored inside were a needle and five
small vials, each filled with a white, semi-transparent
liquid. Her delicate metallic fingers nimbly cracked open one
of the containers and held it with her little finger as she
used the other four to manipulate the syringe, filling it
halfway.  She quickly grabbed a second bottle and filled up
the plastic tube. The pimp's eyes opened wide, as she placed
her thumb on the head of the piston.

    "FUCK!!! NO!!!"

Without hesitating, she quickly stabbed him in the neck,
injecting the fluid into his jugular. She yanked out the
needle, a stream of blood spurting from the small hole it had
made.

    "FUCK YOU!!! FUCK YOU, BITCH!!!"

Without pausing she repeated the operation twice again, until
she had emptied the cases' content into his body, all five
doses. His eyes were bloodshot, a red stream trickling from
his nostrils and the corners of his mouth due to the massive
vasodilatation effect which had already began to damage his
mucous tissue. A wave of nausea made him gag, and his legs
started to twitch, a prelude to the convulsions resulting from
the tremendous overdose. The nightmarish delirium would soon
ensue.

    "YOU FUCKING WHORE!!! I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!!!
MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

The girl placed her hand in front of her face, her index
finger a couple of centimetres away from her mouth, making a
gesture for him to remain silent.

    "Shhhhhhh"

For an instant he thought the hallucinations had already begun
when the girl's finger suddenly lit up, glowing with a
brilliance which made his sensitive eyes hurt. He could hear a
cracking sound, and a sweet, sickening smell which he could
not recognize. The girl placed the tip of her finger on his
forearm. Her finger burrowed into the cast, melting it away.

    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

His body went into spasms with such force that the he almost
budged the girl on top of him.

Almost.

His flesh sizzled as her finger penetrated into his skin,
burning a hole the size of a quarter. It went in about a
centimetre, and then she pulled it out, leaving a plume of
smoke behind, and the sour, nauseating stench of charred meat.

    "GOD!!! AAAHHHHHH!!! NOOOOOOO!!! NOOOOOOOOO!!!"

Again, she dug her finger into the cast, this time slightly
higher along his arm, just below where the cast ended.

    "AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!! FUUUUUCK!!! STOP!!!!
GOD!!! STOP!!!"

He thrashed his head wildly sideways, his legs kicking blindly
into the air. She placed her finger on his elbow. This time
there was no plaster to diffuse the intensity of the plasma
jet. His wails of pain and terror swelled in a panic stricken
crescendo.

    "NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

The stench of excrement and urine combined with that of burnt
meat, as his sphincter and bladder gave away. She drove her
finger into his shoulder.

    "GOOOOOOOOODDDDD!!!!! PLEEEEEAAAAAASSSSSSEEEEE!!!
STOOOOOOOOP!!!!  PLEEEEEAAASSSSEEEE!!! GOOOOOODDD!!!
STOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!"

His screams were now inhuman shrieks of agony. He kept lashing
his head, this time smashing it against the ground in a
desperate attempt to knock himself unconscious. His skull
cracked, and blood began to tinge the concrete, but he did not
faint. The drug, the girl well knew, would take care of
that. She placed her finger on his face and drilled into his
cheek.

    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

Her finger pierced the thin wall of flesh, incinerating half
his tongue.  She quickly yanked it out. Smoke came out of his
mouth, which remained open in spite of the fact that his howls
had ceased. For by now he was beyond pleading, beyond
screaming. His face was a deformed grimace of intense agony,
hardly human, so ridiculously gruesome it was almost
comical. His whole body was tense, almost rigid,
trembling. His eyes, however, were still alert, darting from
side to side, expressing unspeakable fear and pain. The girl
looked at him, and for an instant, their eyes locked. A dark
red tear began to flow down his scorched cheek. The massive
trauma, combined with the effect of the drug, had caused his
lacrimal glands to burst, flooding his tearducts with blood.

Her lovely, unforgiving features were the last thing he saw
before blindness struck.

Slowly, almost gently, she guided his right hand so that the
gun's barrel entered his mouth. She carefully pressed the
nozzle against the roof of his mouth, and unfastened her grip.

    "Dies irae"

He pulled the trigger, and small pieces of skull and brains
splattered on her face.

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