Re-written without Permission
Lady Jane Johnson-Wills drove her Range Rover towards the local market town irritated that the county constabulary had felt it necessary to call her at half ten in the morning.
Apparently, some loony leftists, “Equal Rights for All” agitator was stirring up trouble at the market. Lady Jane may have been fairly low nobility but she had more than enough Blue Blood to crush this little insurrection single handily.
In the passenger seat her husband, Sir William, cowered as they narrowly avoided collision after collision as they accelerated towards the town. At six foot six and built like a train, Sir William was an impressive man, Blue Blood made the men of the upper classes as big and strong as oxen, but he was like a child when compared to his wife.
Her ladyship was a good two and a half feet taller than her husband and considerably more muscular. Blue Blood may have made the male members of the gentry beyond normal but it made the ladies superhuman, blindingly fast and, impossibly strong, the tales of one or two duchesses decimating entire armies is minutes generally kept most sensible people in line.
While her husband could not comprehend how they were weaving through the traffic Lady Jane could react so quickly that this was easy for her. Within minutes they were pulling up at the edge of market square.
Lady Jane lent over and down to give her husband a quick kiss on the forehead “look after the car dear” she said and unfolded herself from the massive car. Jane stood next to the giant four by four waiting for the police officers to come and report to her. She smoothed down her sweater, and checked her pleated skirt was perfect as two sweaty little law officers ran towards her.
“Your Ladyship there’s a gang of thirty city types who came in on the first train trying to get the locals to join an uprising against the nobility there on the far side of square near the town hall!”. The Sergeant blurted out as quick as he could.
“Why are you not dealing with this your selves?” Lady Jane inquired placing her fists on her hips and tapping her right foot in irritation as she scowled down at the two officers of the law.
“Please your Ladyship we’re the only police officers on duty for forty miles” the sergeant pleaded
“Very well then the peasants need to be taught a memorable lesson, far too many of the city types live in their slums without regular reminders of what their betters can do”
Lady Jane smiled as she contemplated the carnage to come. Jim Wilson the leader of the small socialist group who were desperately pleading with the market goers to take their reform leaflets which no one dared to. Suddenly there was a terrific boom behind him and there between his little group of twenty and the town hall landed a Blue Blood woman in her early sixties he guessed.
Standing there, feet apart, hands on hips, smiling down at him with murder in her eyes she was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. Jim had never expected death to come for him in pearls, a pink Kashmir sweater and matching knee length pleaded skirt but apparently death was funny that way.
The locals in the square on seeing her Ladyship all gave a deep bow. Jane could immediately spot the ring leader of the small group of agitators, none of whom were bowing although they all looked like they were about to soil themselves. She stepped towards them leaving the cracked paving stones where she had landed after her leap across the square. One woman turned to flee and a pink court shoe heel moving faster than a normal person’s eye could follow hit her head causing it to disintegrate into a red mist of blood, bone and brain coating those near her. Only the settling of her skirt gave any clue Lady Jane had moved. Those covered in gore screamed as the headless corpse flopped to the ground with a wet dull thud.
Before any of the agitators could move, a much slower slap to the chest of a man immediately too her right was weighed perfectly to crush his ribs and liquefy his heart killing him instantly. Lady Jane was enjoying her exponential speed and strength advantage. she was like a fox in a hen-house. Her grin widened a the next one was kicked so hard in the groin that he was launched across the square hitting the church spire with a splat. Jim tried to run but a simple flick of a finger onto his chin knocked him out cold he would not die quickly people would talk about his fate he would be a warning to others.
A woman died next stampeded on like a bug, as Lady Jane danced effortlessly around the quickly diminishing group preventing any of them reaching the crowd. A man’s head was crushed by a massive hand, the biggest guy in the group was grabbed by an ankle and used as a living club to beat six of his friends to death, well, he was living when he hit the first one. A woman’s head was wrenched through one hundred and eighty degrees with a quick flick of the wrist. A man’s head was caught in crock of an elbow and crushed. As the numbers diminished her ladyship began to take her time and make a spectacle of her victims.
A woman died next slowly screaming in a one-handed bear hug as lady Jane circled the survivors. Then a smaller man, short even to a commoner, was stuffed up under her skirt, massive thighs crushing him like an industrial press then the last woman was simply thrown up with such force that she effectively achieved orbit.
The four remaining conscious members of the protest group huddled together awaiting their fate now knowing escape to be impossible, Lady Jane kept dancing around them faster than they could follow, cutting off their escape at every turn. The largest of them was grabbed by the back of the neck and held up for the crowd to see as her Ladyship pressed a manicured fingernail against his forehead and then as he screamed slowly drove it through his skull until the screams abruptly stopped.
A man on his knees was begging for his life as she pinned him through the chest with a shoe heel. The two remaining protesters were frozen, helplessly awaiting their fate. Lady Jane pushed their heads together laughing, that they were of one mind as their skulls slowly crushed together between her hands. Having finished his little gang, her Ladyship picked up the unconscious Jim her hand easily circling his waist and marched through the parting crowd of bowing, cap doffing locals who parted to make way for her. She was in no doubt that this little rat was going to wish he had died in the market square along with his friends when the Royal interrogators were done with his. As she approached the car the mayor was apologising to her husband for the inconvenience this had caused.
“Just make sure the mess is cleaned up quickly!” she snapped tossing the unconscious man into the boot before they sped off to London and his fate.