★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] Stories~collected 2010-12

[El_Roy_1999]

Stories in this collection:

Pathetic

Investigative Journalism

Rivals

An interview from Actionismo Magazine

The Martian

Jodie

Waiting for Corinne

A Surprise Finding


This is a bit of an experiment, took me three hours to write. I hope you like it. Please give feedback!

Pathetic
by El_Roy_1999


They should put this on my gravestone if I should die. "Here lies a pathetic man, neither loved nor hated." That would be me. Nice, huh? Here I am, 42 years old, and I haven't accomplished a single thing in my life. Not that I needed to. My family has been miraculously wealthy for generations. It's not the kind of wealth you'd find on Fortune, it's more the kind of wealth that you don't need to talk about. You see, as far as I know, we 'earned' a big part of our current fortune over my great-grandfather's shady deals, but even before that, my family had stolen, exploited and extorted a marvelous amount of money. Honestly, it's so much, I couldn't even spend it in my lifetime and God knows, I tried. When I was 13 years old, my father died in a car crash. My mother has passed away even before. I can't even remember what she looked like. Sometimes, I recognise her smell, though.
Anyway. When I was 13 years old, I inherited it all. I'm an only child, just as my father was. So I did what every young man would do: I tried to blow it all on a good life. I quit school, drugged myself into stupor and did all the things you would have loved to do. I came to my senses years later. I actually took up classes again, but with a private tutor, learned some of the things I had to learn and continued doing what I loved to.
It might interest you that my family benefits from its fortune, but has no real control of it. It's all in a really complex system of trust funds, none of which I understand or care about.
I took my time, studied a little this and a little that and spent my days shooting skeet, riding, traveling and fucking beautiful women. Worked nicely for me for a while. The trouble is, I never really belonged to the jetset. I never had any glamour. The girls I fucked didn't fuck me, they fucked my money. And they enjoyed it. A lot. Can't say I wasn't generous. It wasn't really my money anyway. It sort of magically appeared on my balance. Didn't know or care where it came from. When I was in my mid-twenties, I tried to open a business, but it didn't work out. It did nicely, but I lost interest. It's still somewhere in the portfolio, probably going on nicely. Haven't heard anything of it for a while. Who cares.
The trouble with me is that I'm not insane enough. I can't blow a fortune on a stupid art collection or an expensive divorce. I just don't care enough for it. When a woman wants to marry me, I usually just tell her I don't want to. If she insists, fine, she can go. Too bad. I'm sad for a while, but I get better.

All this is just meant to be a prelude to explain what happened to me lately.
It went like this: A few years ago, I was visiting a friend, you'd recognise him from glamour magazines. He's a jerk, but he's a nice guy and he actually earned some of his money. As opposed to me, he actually cares about all that status shit. He owns a dozen cars, a few mansions and some horses and dogs and paintings. I do to, but I don't care. I have people who care about them for me. Honestly, I could hire people to care for the people who care about all this crap for me.
Anyway, he shows me his dogs and he shows me how they obey his commands and do all kinds of stupid things. And the weird thing was, this was turning me on. Not the dogs, of course. I'm not into that kind of thing. No, it was the act of having someone, or in this case a dog, do what you tell it and love you for it. That was fascinating. I never fancied myself to be this way, but hey, I really had to jerk off in his toilet that day. Three times. When I left him, I was both elated and depressed. Of course, I had finally found something I wanted, on the other hand, I had no idea how to get it. It wouldn't be hard to find someone who would pretend to love to do what I told her. It would be hard to find someone who just loved the idea.
As always, the solution was the internet. Pretty soon, I found a few clubs I could visit where people who were into this met. I really tried to stay anonymous and I guess it worked. I soon found out I wasn't into all that beating people up. No. I was mostly into that 'loving to serve' thing. Happily, I met Elisa. I later found out she was a rather famous doctor. Of medicine, no less. She came from a pretty horrible background but had managed to pull herself up, paying for her studies herself, setting up her own surgery and earning insane amounts of money from it. However, just like me, she had this hollow feeling she never could get rid of. She really just wanted to do what someone told her. Just abandon all responsibility and not care about whether her decisions had any consequences. Being told what to do just made her giddy. Honestly, I couldn't understand her, but I could feel her need.

As it happens, we talked a lot about this and found that our needs complimented each other. This was to be the solution to both our emptinesses. However, we decided to take it slow. At first, all I did was tell her what to wear on our evenings at the club. That wasn't too hard on either one of us, but it got us both off. As an example, I had her dress up in white latex, wear high heels and a hood. She did it. For me. For the love of doing what she was told. I didn't really care about the latex, but it was clear she was doing it for me. And I loved it. When we left the club in my limo that night, I had her give me a blowjob. She was clearly unexperienced, but it worked for me. She unzipped my pants and my dick sprang to attention. She licked its tip for a while, occasionally engulfing it into her warm, wet mouth, a trail of saliva and pre-cum linking my cock to her soft lips. She continued, trying to deep-throat me. That didn't work out, but she tried and this is what counts. We ended up fucking on the back-seat, her latex dress ripped and torn. When I dropped her off at her home, I told her to come and eat with me at a fancy restaurant.
You can imagine what happened next. She arrived, we had excellent wine and perfect starters. I admired her beauty, grace and elegance. Then, I told her to blow me. Right now. I said it in a friendly way, no point in giving orders and, guess what, she did it. Now, this wasn't the first time I had my dick sucked in a fancy restaurant. Far from it. But this was the first time I had decided this would happen. Suffice to say I had to pass her a handkerchief down there. After this experience, I decided to go all out. Elisa went along with it. I decided on her clothes when we went out, I decided what make-up to wear, I decided who we visited and what we did. And she loved it. She really did.

I think that one thing that made this go well at first was that, once again, I wasn't overdoing it. Many other people would have pushed too hard. They would have tried to humiliate her. They would have made her do things which she wouldn't want. I didn't. I don't know why. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was just stupidity. Whatever.
After a while, however, I had an epiphany. We had been going out together for a few months. She delegated a lot of decisions of her daily life to me. I was glad to help. The lifestyle I chose for us still left her time enough to take care of her surgery, while also allowing us to enjoy the finer things in life. The epiphany, yes. I'm sorry, I got side-tracked. Anyway, Elisa and me were visiting a few friends of the family in the Provence. Nice place. There, we spent a few weeks basking in the sun, playing games, swimming, fooling around and fucking like rabbits. Elisa was enjoying herself tremendously. However, when I was there, I heard of the muscle-dog. You've probably seen the pictures on the internet. It's that weird dog with huge muscles. For some reason, the whole 'Elisa does what I tell her' thing was connected with the 'dogs love their owners' concept and click!, it slotted into the 'muscle-dog' idea. Completely stupid, but I found myself suddenly fantasising about Elisa having huge muscles. I don't know where that came from, it was probably there all along, but until then I didn't care about it. I evaded the subject for a while, but then, Elisa just asked me what was going on. Strangely enough, I couldn't answer at first. I feigned a headache and pushed it aside.
However, it returned after a while. I found myself looking at bodybuilder pictures on the net, thinking about Elisa. It took me three weeks to summon the courage to do this. It was a real test on the special nature of our relationship. I could wreck all this if I overdid it. After all, I wanted her to love me, I wanted her to do this for my own sake, but because she loved obeying me. Finally, I couldn't bear it any longer. I summoned her to my house and told her to sit down and have a drink. Honestly, I was totally nervous. I had downed quite a few drinks before I finally had the guts to say it. And then I did. Honest to God, I told her to train her muscles until they were big and hard.

And she said 'of course'. 'Of course!' I was exploding inside. She actually accepted this command. I was completely elated. I was about to embrace her, but managed to keep my calm. However, I could see by the glint in her eye and the coy smile that she had realised that I was happy. I never was a good actor anyway. Suffice to say that we had pretty good sex afterwards.
The next day, I hired a coach, a nutritionist and a doctor to make this happen. I decided that she should continue working at her surgery, but for a reduced schedule. I just covered any necessary expenses. Elisa got her things together and soon started her training. The funny thing was that Elisa is actually a little short. She's five feet three tall, all thin and skinny. Next to the hulking coach, she looked like little girl, but this would change.
The three experts quickly took over Elisa's life. They set up her food, her training schedule and checked her progress and health. I wouldn't be me if it took long for her to show results. As far as I could see, she liked it. Indeed, she trained for hours, doing cardio, lifting weights and doing all kinds of things which the coach decided on. Meanwhile, I spent my time fantasising, watching her progress and fucking her. We could really track the progress over time. Soon, her minimal flab disappeared, to soon be replaced by small, tight muscles which eventually grew. I documented the whole transformation and took daily photographs. When all was done, I would have a little film made of the change. I had her take up the same positions every day and we would be able to see her morph into her new shape. The mere thought of this proof of my will made me giddy. Honestly, I was absolutely crazy during these months. I could watch her sweat, running on the treadmill, lifting weights, pushing them with her legs, getting massages and so on. I was pretty sure that the three experts thought I was a total pervert, but well, I am. I am completely aware of this.
Elisa and I had a few nice talks during this time. It was fascinating. The funny thing was, I loved her. For the first time in my life, it fit. When she told me how she liked the soreness after training, how she loved it when she could see her arms had grown half an inch, when I took her to buy new clothes because her shoulders no longer fit, I went all dreamy. Sometimes, I would let her flex her abdominals for me, fantasising about them becoming huge boulders. She told me how the muscles were making her life easier, how she could do things she never could before. Honestly, it was a wonderful time of my life.

After half a year or so, she hit a plateau. Clearly, her body had reached its regular maximum. She was now a short powerhouse, with nicely muscled arms, rounded shoulders and a strong neck. When she wore a tight dress, and I made her wear one a lot, her abdominals were easily visible. She could crack walnuts with her ass. Combined with her big thighs, she was awesome. Whenever we were alone, I made her wear skintight suits, leotards or dresses. I also bought her a really expensive necklace, a simple affair made of silver, but created by a very famous designer. I had it made as a custom item. It was designed to be a tight fit, but could be expanded little by little when her neck grew.
However, a problem came up when she told me that she was unable to do what I wanted. She explained to me that her muscles were only growing slowly now and that she had reached her peak. I was disappointed. Of course, I was impressed by her growth, but I had expected so much more. She was distraught. As she cried, I took her in my arms and told her I would find a solution. We kissed and cuddled.
The next day, I called my three experts and asked them for ideas. I didn't care about the issue. I just wanted results. When they finally made up their minds, they told me they could give her steroids and whatnot, but that they were dangerous and illegal for that purpose. In any case, they needed her agreement. This was one of the few times in my life when I saw my money destroy somebody's ethics. It's a weird feeling. At first, they were surprised by the sum, then they fought it, then they agreed. It's funny to see people being corrupted. It made me feel all strange. There probably were good reasons why they would refuse in the first place, but, well, I was obsessed. This is important. You can't have an obsession and then get talked out of it. So they did what they were asked to do. Of course, asking her for permission was pointless. Either she accepted or she didn't, for me, it was clear what I wanted.
Once again, she surprised me with her devotion. Odd. Still, the drugs did what they were meant to do. Within weeks, Elisa made a huge leap forward. Her muscles actually ballooned. I was forced to expand her necklace on a weekly basis and I even had a tailor work at my mansion full time. Her arms grew out of proportion to her size, giving her a square, blocky look. Her tiny hands were soon taken over by her overblown forearms. Her legs grew so big, they rubbed together when she walked. I loved it. I made her wear custom made rubber suits to make her muscles appear even larger. It was awesome. Her abdominals soon turned into massive blocks of steel-like flesh. Oh my God! I couldn't believe it.
When we went out, all heads were turned. We went to the restaurant and the waiter went all fish-eyed when he saw her. He even forget his banter for a second. When I made her give me a blow-job, she just lifted the table with one hand and sucked me off like a vacuum hose. I never felt anything like that. She was aggressive as hell, too. When a guy made a rude (and stupid) comment, she just smiled and smashed her tiny fist into his stomach, making him puke all over his suit. Turns out, suits are not that expensive.
The other changes also made my life stranger. She had an explosive libido by now. While she was on the gear, she would fuck me whenever I wanted, where I wanted. And we did. A lot. We also found out that the drugs had made her clit grow, so she occasionally got off just from wearing tight pants. I made her wear them a lot. Also her voice changed a little and her face got harsher. All this weirdness, including her bulk, made her freakier and freakier. Suffice to say, she had to give up her surgery for now.

Speaking of surgery: I had been thinking about this for a while. By now, she had no tits left. Her huge pectorals could fill any dress, but they were not exactly girly. I noticed this was getting to her. After all, she was still a woman and she wanted to feel like one. I wasn't quite sure, but the friends she still had, who hadn't been completely alienated by her insane lifestyle (There, I said it.), clearly found her too male-looking. Well, if money won't fix it, nothing will. After a nice fuck, I told her she would get her tits and face done. Nothing too crazy. Just enough to give her back that cute and sexy look she had before we started. Her reaction told me that continuing to spy after her was a good move for the future.
When she was done, she loved it. As soon as she was healed, I had my first ever titfuck by her, the rather realistic looking implants jerking against my cock. I had her lips plumped a little more than necessary, and she made good use of them. Getting her a little lipo to bring out her abs a bit more had also been a good idea.
Pretty soon, I had my dream woman: A tight little powerhouse, almost as broad as tall, full of muscles, with big tits and a total devotion to my will. Yes!
You will notice that by this time, I had gone insane. None of this was normal anymore. I was a sick, a diseased individual. I had made this woman into a fantasy, not against her will, but it was still a perversion. Of course, I wouldn't notice it at this time. Oh God, I was so full of it.
I even had her shave her head and wear a wig when outside just because her bald head made her shoulders appear even wider. I guess she liked it, because she didn't object. Instead, she would pose for me in tight leathers, lift me against the wall in airplane toilets and suck me or take my cock in her ass on our dinner table.

So, what went wrong? Honestly, I was unsure of when it all went too far. I spent so much time obsessing over Elisa, I really lost sight of everything else. Interestingly enough, this was noticed by several managers of my trust funds who soon decided that too much money was flowing in my direction and not enough in theirs. They were right probably. Anyway, through a number of tricks I cannot even hope to fathom, they managed to take my money. Most of it anyway. Interestingly enough, the only thing that survived was the business I had set up a decade and a half earlier. Funny, isn't it?
Still, there I was, bankrupt within months due to the rather enormous overhead my lifestyle was generating and I'm not talking about Elisa, although she might have been a factor after all.
Anyway, this was when I lost it and I did the most stupid thing in my life besides trusting those manager assholes: I asked her for help. It was just the wording, you know. If I had said: 'Give me your money', all would have been well. Turns out 'What should I do?' was wrong. It took a while to happen. At first, I realised my authority had vaned. Soon, I found myself in the reversed position. By the time my business picked up, it was too late. Elisa had lost faith in my. Still, we were still linked and trust me, we would stay that way. However, the nature of our relationship changed. To make this short, I found out that I am very well able to do what I'm told and still be happy. Very happy even. Still, I am quite a pathetic individual and I'm not sure whether it got worse since I lick her boots.
All in all, I can say I found love, but it's strange enough to still warrant the headstone. Well, there you have it, time to go back to work, the mistress is coming home soon and she likes to have everything ready. Have a nice day.

[El_Roy_1999]

A rather ancient story. Enjoy!

Investigative Journalism
by El_Roy_1999


Cognac

The restaurant was upper class to say the least. Crystal chandeliers, mirrors, gold plating, elegant and classical furniture, marble tables. The lap of luxury. The broad-shouldered Russian, wearing a tailor-made suit, several gold rings and a tie-pin worth several of her monthly wages, was enjoying a glass of French cognac. The golden liquid sloshed around in its crystal container as the massive man offered her a place.
Michelle sat down. The grey-haired man gladly noted that she was not as shabbily dressed as American women usually were. They seemed to delight in choosing the worst attire they could find. It invariably looked as if bought in some awful Third World country which they would be horrified to visit. The most annoying part of the whole process was that these “guests” usually looked at the Russian lifestyle as tasteless and materialistic.
Still, meditations on the “clash of cultures” at hand were superfluous nowadays. What mattered more was the individual’s ability to provide oneself with sufficient funds to enjoy its often short existence to the maximum. Anyway, the woman had accepted the virtues of the Russian outlook on life and had chosen to wear a classy and very chic costume, black, simple, but displaying her thin frame as advantageous as possible. Vassilij Semjonovic smiled happily. Her Asian looks, contrasting with her American demeanour were, in his very humble opinion, a perfect match.
“Good evening, Miss Wang. I hope you are enjoying your stay at Moscow as much as I do! May I offer you a drink?”
Michelle had had ample opportunity to accustom herself to the Russian attitude, especially towards those who were able to provide them with generous amounts of cash. In this case, her business partner to be was one of the numerous wealthy men in the “imports/exports” business. He’d also been one of the upper-tier directors of the KGB and she had found her way into his heart by giving him something which was hard to come by in Russia: a business meeting with her boss.
Being a journalist, Michelle worked for the Global Information Corporation, one of the enormous media conglomerates spanning the whole palette of entertainment and information across the world. Her aunt had managed to break the glass ceiling and had achieved what no one had thought possible: She had become the first female CEO of GIC. Michelle had realised the value of this relationship even though she had to endure endless ridicule on behalf of her colleagues when they realised what was going on. She was an able researcher and quick thinker, and this was the first time she actually used her connections in this way.
“I’ll take a glass of mineral water, thank you.” Frowning, the Russian ordered some Evian. Women! “Let’s get down to business. Mrs. Baker, my boss, is happy to accept your invitation and will visit you from the 5th to the 8th of May.”
The businessman smiled. “Do ask her if she wishes to stay until the 9th. I’d be happy to invite her to see the festivities of Victory Day. I can get wonderful seats for the parade and the gala reception. You can come too if you wish.”
“Thank you. I’ll inform her and would be happy to accept your invitation myself, if time allows. Now about that query…”
“Ah yes, the research centre. You are fully aware that I am sworn to utter secrecy on the subject…” The woman looked a tad distraught. “But of course, there is no problem at all in giving a friend a tip for holiday travels in our beautiful Motherland. If it helps Russian business, it helps the Russian people. And as you know, we have a long tradition of serving the people in my line of work.”
“I see. Which place should I thus visit?”

[El_Roy_1999]

Freezing point

“Siberia, no less!” Calvin was furious. The 6’4” man had been compressed into a very small and uncomfortable chair in an equally small and uncomfortable plane, whose irregular yet frequent groaning heralded no good. “I cannot tell you how much I hate this country. It’s cold, everything is on the verge of breaking down and everybody keeps looking at you as if you were Santa Claus!” His left-hand neighbour, a large, mud-blond woman in her forties grinned at him, apparently amused by his anger.
As far as anybody on this plane was concerned, the last person Calvin was actually resembling was Father Christmas. He was tall, fit, wearing his chestnut hair in an intellectual’s ponytail. The designer-glasses and the equally expensive jeans completed the personal assistant’s attire. Michelle had hired him years ago, he had gone to college with her and had worked at the same campus newspaper. Actually, they were more like partners, but she was the “face” of their operation. After a very short moment of romance right after college, they had settled for a business relationship that had lasted for almost a decade, but which was right now on the verge of breaking.
“Calm down, please. If Tartakin told us the truth, we’ll be on our way back in four days. I assure you, the next project will be somewhere hot.”
He seemed unconvinced.
“I know, I know. It’s going to be the Sahara, or the Rub al-Khali or whatever. I’m seriously fed up with all this exotic locale shit. We could do something about a development project in India, or a political coup in South America. Get a Pulitzer. There’s no point to go somewhere where no man has gone before. “Gulag archipelago” has been done.”
“I’ll check with my aunt and we’ll go someplace that’s going to look like a holiday.”
“Anything will look like a holiday compared to this!” At this moment, the machine gave a loud, creaking noise, instantly silencing everyone aboard. At the rear of the plane, mumbling prayers were heard. Whispering, Calvin turned to Michelle and asked:
“What do you expect to find there anyway? All the research materials and personnel must have been taken to the US years ago if they’re worth the trouble.”
“I don’t think so. Apparently, there’s a local magnate, a guy by the name of Lemontow, who’s actually supporting the area and keeping the specialists around. Besides, it’s one of the wealthiest places in the world if you look at their resources.”
“They certainly don’t look wealthy if you look at them right now.”
At last, the plane started it’s descent, reaching the airfield safely. The continuous jerking and rumbling had scared both of them, but now that they returned to terra firma, they calmed down.

[El_Roy_1999]

Lap of Luxury

As the huddled masses climbed out of the rusty Antonow airplane, Michelle and Calvin took a few minutes to accept the climate. Moscow suddenly seemed like Florida when compared to the biting cold of the Siberian countryside. A makeshift pathway made of wood led them to the airport hall. After a rather short bureaucratic procedure involving two hundred dollars, they got out and managed to find a taxi. The machine turned out to be a powerful and sparkling new Volvo, howling with diesel power.
The driver got out, actually saluted, and added:
“Mr. Lemontow sends his regards. You are invited to stay at his hotel for the time of your visit.”
The two travellers looked at each other in astonishment. Seconds later, they were on the road to the city centre. Passing several soviet-time buildings and apartment blocks, they arrived at a luxurious palace. Neither of them would have dreamt of spending the ridiculous amount of money to stay there, but being invited, a look of gladness washed over their faces.
Inside, a porter immediately took care of their luggage. The concierge quickly accomplished the welcoming ritual and informed them in perfect British English that Mr. Lemontow already awaited them in the lobby.
Moments later, they sat down. Their host turned out to be a thin, tall man in his forties, raven-haired and pale. Wearing a tailored suit and tasteful jewellery, he fitted perfectly into his surroundings. He gave them a friendly smile, offered them a glass of mineral water and said:
“Mr. Tartakin was right, you are gorgeous. I hope that you were not taken by surprise at my rather direct invitation, but it seemed easier for me to make contact. Do feel at home.”
Michelle seemed taken aback by the fact that Tartakin had informed this man of their coming. The dark-haired woman tried to hide her annoyance.
“What else has Tartakin told you? What is your interest in all this?”
“I see, straightforward and honest. As they say in bad spy films, American virtues. Mr. Tartakin has told me that you wished to visit the abandoned research facilities for a story in your newspaper. He also implied that you had friends in high places and that he’d be happy for you to have a nice stay. Being an old friend, I hardly could have refused, couldn’t I?”
The woman sighed. It was fascinating to see how small the world’s largest country could be.
“Indeed, we would like to visit the science centre. It’s an article about soviet research during the 1960s and 70s. Since most of the official is classified and shadowy at best, a local point of view might help. We’d like to interview the residents and see what they know about the workings there.”
“Splendid. I’d be glad to help. Of course, this is a free country, but if you need something, you are cordially invited to drop my name.” He grinned. “When you’re done, I’d definitely like to read the final text. Maybe there’s something to be learned about local history.”
“Are you from around here?”
“My father was deported here by Stalin and stayed here after his liberation. The Lemontows have always been businessmen and he soon managed to climb the social ladder. Just because we were a society of equals didn’t mean that there was no room above. I studied in Czechoslovakia and returned after the collapse. As a matter of fact, I have almost no knowledge about the local events in the 70s.”
“Alright. Well, we are thankful for your hospitality, but it was a long flight. If you don’t mind…”
“Do enjoy your stay.”
The pair got up. Going to the elevators, Michelle asked Calvin:
“Why were you so quiet?”
“I’m tired, it’s alright.” Whispering he added: “Besides, there was a guy in the rear who constantly observed us. I don’t think we can trust any of these people.”
She nodded as the elevator went up. Downstairs, the man in the back left the lobby and pulled out his cell-phone.

[El_Roy_1999]

Roommates

The hotel room turned out to be every bit as luxurious as the building had led to expect. It was fairly modern, but still felt rather cosy and warm. Outside, first signs of a snowstorm appeared. Michelle took a bath, relaxing in the warm water and examining the numerous samples of expensive cosmetics available in the bathroom. Clearly, Tartakin had friends in high places himself. As she climbed out of the tub, wrapping her long, dark hair into a separate towel, she took a look at herself in the floor length mirror. It appeared to be one of those vanity mirrors that slimmed the observer down a little bit. It’s services were futile in the face of Michelle’s thin, pale and naked body. She examined her pert little breasts, a routine exercise for medical purposes. She also found it quite enjoyable, this being her special “mutant power”. She smiled, put on the bathrobe and returned to the main room.
Calvin was watching TV, cartoons as always. His prime passion were superhero stories, he was also an avid comics collector. Even though she was no expert, their relationship had taught her a thing or two about the “science” of comic books.
Their whole project here had started as a joke. She sat down on the bed. While working late at night, they had seen an interview with a Russian ex-spy who explained that the KGB had spent millions of dollars to develop gadgets from James Bond movies, believing that the US secret services were using the media to conceal the fact that they were developing them.
A complicated story. For no good reason except extreme paranoia, the Soviets had built exploding fountain pens, rocket-launcher briefcases and gas-mask beards. At first, they laughed. But then, Calvin had asked:
“Do you think they tried to make Captain America too?” They had laughed again, imagining the Soviets trying to build super-soldiers. All of a sudden, it started to make sense.
On the next day, they started gathering information on the subject. Using the corporation’s excellent contacts, they managed to get a categorical and total denial of any Soviet super-soldier programme. The person who had issued the relevant data was Tartakin. Two days later, they were on their way to Moscow.
As for the actual reason for their expedition, Michelle could only guess. Calvin was definitely interested as a comic book aficionado. She could also imagine that he’d just wanted to dream of superpowers. For her, it was the sheer oddity of the idea. Besides, this was the perfect occasion to visit Russia.
While she was thinking, Calvin had taken a shower. He returned, a towel wrapped around his waist. He said:
“I’d really like to visit the facility tomorrow. I checked on the map, it’s quite a drive. Through the woods, some 100 miles, next to no civilisation around. We’ll have to get a 4x4 and some snow equipment. You know, thermal tents and so on.”
“Do you actually want to stay out there?”
“Not really. But if exploring the area takes longer, it’s better to make sure that the cold won’t kill us.”
Michelle gave him a questioning look. He certainly had a direct way of putting things. She climbed under her bed-sheets. It was cosy and warm in here. A look at the thermometer outside the window made her shiver with delight. Outside, everything was freezing, the wind was howling, it was dark. She snuggled against the eiderdown and soon fell asleep. As she drifted away, she felt as if Calvin was moving restlessly around in the room.

[El_Roy_1999]

Days of winter

They woke up to the sound of Michelle’s cell phone. The deeply annoying alarm signal allowed them to get out of the bed early. Opening the curtains, they saw complete darkness outside, broken occasionally by the lights of stores and cars. Taking a quick shower to wake up, Michelle explained today’s schedule: They should get a car, drive to the facility, examine it quickly and return before nightfall, which had to be around 3:30pm at this time of the year.
She also noted that it would be better not to let anybody follow them. They still should inform the concierge so that he could send for help if they did not return in time. This was Russia after all.
Putting on their thermal-isolated coats, they went to the car rental. There, they were welcomed by a huge man, all beard and hair, broad-shouldered and barely able to fit into his miniscule office. Roaring a greeting in broken English, the man asked what he could do to help them. Calvin examined the paper sheets on the walls detailing the various available cars.
“We’d like to go hunting, so we’d need a robust car. You know, for off-road driving.”
The man laughed, smiled, pulled his sleeve and almost carried Calvin into the yard. Minutes later, the two Americans were on their way in their newly rented Niva. Although operating the manual gear shift took a bit of practice, they were on the road. The giant had also given them a box of ammunition, a very strong flashlight and a photocopied map with little drawings of animals on it. The “hunt” story must have been very authentic.
They soon left the city and soon drove westward to the forest area. Even though the research facility was not marked on the map, Tartakin had been as nice as to provide them with two pages of typed directions. Tracing them on their road-map, Michelle soon found out that the area was probably populated by bears. There also appeared to be no trace of civilisation around for miles.
The car hit another pothole, jerking it’s passengers around. Trees on both sides blocked out the sunlight slowly creeping across the snowy landscape. After a while, the sky grew dark again. Looking outside, Michelle realised that a storm was coming.
“Calvin, I think we should turn around. The sky doesn’t look good at all. I wonder why the big guy didn’t warn us?”
The driver looked at the clouds, smiled and answered:
“I guess he knew it would be alright. I checked the weather forecast last night. There’s no storm on the schedule. Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”
Michelle felt strange at his sudden enthusiasm. What was going on? Had he spoken to someone while she was asleep? She gave him a sideway look. He definitely seemed to be very eager to reach the area as soon as possible. Outside, the trees began to sway in the wind.
“Are you sure you got the forecast right? Look at the trees.” The car started shaking again. Was it the awful road, or was the wind picking up seriously?
“It’s going to be alright. Look! We go right on this path, follow it, and we’ll be there in no time.”
He drove the car on a narrow, tree-lined, snow-covered path into the deeper forest. Instantly the car’s engine started howling, Calvin shifted the gear and drove through a low snow-drift.

Soon, it started snowing. A little at first, then more and more. Minutes later, the snowfall had turned into a full-scale blizzard. Michelle gave her driver a horrified look. Calvin was gritting his teeth, desperate to maintain visibility, but the windshield-wipers were getting clogged. He hit the gas again, jerking the car around to let the snow drop off, when Michelle took his hand and firmly told him to stop.
“If we go on like this, you’ll hit a tree. We should try to go back.” Outside, the storm was howling, throwing endless snow at the car and it’s occupants. “If we could get back on the road, we’d see further.”
Calvin stared at her angrily. He slowly loosened his grip. She grasped his arm again. She saw that he was struggling with himself. At last, he stopped the car.
“You’re right. It’s better if we stop and try to get back on the main road.”
Just as he finished the sentence, one of the huge trees behind them gave a pained grown and crashed on the road. In wild panic, Calvin hit the gas. The car jerked forward, the engine stalled and died off. He fumbled for the starter key. Trying to start the car, he screamed angrily as it jumped, only to land in a low trench besides the trail. As they desperately tried to work out what to do, a dark silhouette approached through the snowstorm.

[El_Roy_1999]

A grizzly encounter

The creature approached. It was very large, some two yards tall and almost as wide. It walked at a brisk pace, swaying from side to side. Calvin stared at it, since it came from the driver’s side, he could perceive the sheer size of it sooner.
“It’s a fucking bear. A huge bear! Shit!” He fumbled for the starter key, turned it, the engine roared, he put the reverse gear in, and hit the gas. The car drove back, groaning as it left the trench. The enormous bear promptly reacted and ran towards the car. It was on all fours, lounged forward and grabbed the car. It’s enormous bulk smashed against the window, denting the car door and breaking the window pane. Calvin screamed.
The monster tore at the car door, eager to get inside.
“Out! Out! Quick, get out of the car!” Calvin urged Michelle to get out. She pushed open the door, fell out, got up and started to run. Her friend was after her seconds later. The beast pushed it’s head inside the car. They ran as quick as they could. Around them, trees flashed by, the snowstorm roared, all hell had broken lose. The bear had finished dismembering the car and began looking for them.
Michelle felt her heartbeat drum against her forehead, sweat was pouring out of her body, her windpipe was aching. She ran as fast as she could, slipping on loose snow, barely evading low branches. She heard Calvin run behind her. Deep in the roaring storm, the savage growl of the monstrous bear could be heard. It had taken up the pursuit. Needlessly wondering how fast a bear could run if it were twice as large as normal, Michelle ran on.
Suddenly, a fence appeared out of nowhere. She smashed into it, the thick wires gave a metallic rattle. Calvin arrived seconds later and instantly started climbing. She grabbed the wires firmly and proceeded to follow his example.
The bear emerged from the forest, roared and threw himself at the fugitives. It jumped, grabbed Michelle’s leg and started to pull. She felt as if the creature would rip her leg out. She clung to the fence with her dear life, howling in pain. Calvin tried to repel the monster by kicking at it’s arm, but it seemed impervious to his attacks.
All of a sudden, the beast stopped. It threw his head around, letting his prey go. A stunted figure with a visible hunch had appeared and had grabbed the beast’s rear paw. As the bear turned around to strike it’s aggressor, the opponent pulled the creature’s hind leg back and smashed it’s fist into the bear’s genitals. The creature looked very surprised. Using this moment of astonishment, the assailant flipped it’s huge opponent over, jumped on it’s belly and proceeded to beat it unconscious with it’s fists. Seconds later, the stunned monster lay quiet.
Their saviour made a sign for the two observers to come down. They complied. The hunch-backed fighter urged them to follow. As they paused to examine the bear as it slowly disappeared under the still falling snow, the figure pulled of it’s scarf, revealing herself to be a woman in her forties. She cursed at her hunch, bellowed at the pair to follow her, grabbed Michelle by the hand and started to run. Calvin instantly followed.

[El_Roy_1999]

There stood a cabin of earth and wood…

After a few minutes of sprinting, Michelle being half dragged, half carried, they arrived at a small cabin. They had followed the fence for several minutes, but had then turned back into the forest. The building appeared to be half sunken, only it’s roof was visible above the snow. Their leader opened a small door at the structure’s front and ushered them in. As they climbed in, a muffled roar could be heard from the deeper woods.
Climbing down a short ladder, the pair found themselves to be in a single roomed house. It’s centre was dominated by a large stove, several comfortable chairs and a very large bed. The structure’s base seemed to be made of dry earth, the walls were made of concrete, but decorated with wall-carpets.
They waited, catching their breath. Suddenly, the hunch lifted itself and revealed a very short man. He must have been some five feet tall. He climbed down, saying a few short words to his carrier. Meanwhile, the woman removed her heavy fur coat and stretched. Underneath, she wore military fatigues and a simple t-shirt. As she stretched, large muscles erupted under her skin. At first, she had appeared overweight, but now, her massive frame was revealed. She had enormously broad shoulders, easily a yard across and a strong neck, framed by bulging trapezii. Her arms hung lazily from her side after she finished stretching. Her massive biceps and triceps gave her an appearance similar to that of a football line player. The picture, however, was spoiled by the fact that she also had large, round but slightly sagging breasts.
After a few seconds, Michelle looked at the woman’s face. It had taken some time to get past the tremendous bulk her host was exhibiting. Even her legs were ridiculously large, her calves easily visible from the front, stretching the fabric of her trousers. The woman was rather nice to look at, her short blonde hair framing her heart-shaped face nicely. Her soft brown eyes had visible crow’s feet but shone brightly and youthfully. All in all, she seemed to have reached the age of gorgeousness and had chosen to remain there.
The man, on the other hand, was rather frail, grey-haired and quite simply, old. He ushered his guests to take off their jackets and boots and to make themselves comfortable. In perfect English, he asked them:
“Would you like some tea to warm you?” Calvin and Michelle nodded eagerly. Meanwhile, the large woman had busied herself with the stove, had added a few pieces of wood and bade them to sit down.
“Do take a seat. Whatever drove you to go out in this weather?” Her voice, carrying the merest hint of an accent, was rather deep and sultry. Scrambling on the sofa-like seat, which seemed to be home-made, the pair slowly overcame their surprise. At last, Michelle answered:
“We were looking for the ruins of a military facility in this area. We thought it would be alright, the guy whom we rented our car from even encouraged us to visit the area. He never told us anything about this storm, and he should know…” After a short pause, she added: “Thank you for the rescue. I have never seen a beast like that one. What happened?”
The old man returned with a steaming tea kettle. He prepared the tea quickly, then replied:
“Ah yes, this is the local idea of a joke. You see, we do not get many tourists around here, so there’s no need to be courteous. Or civil for that matter.” He turned to the woman, who had sat down meanwhile: “Some tea for you, Ekaterina?” She nodded. He finished serving drinks, then added with the faintest of smiles: “Indeed, the local wildlife has much improved over the years. You are welcome to stay here for tonight. Tomorrow, when the storm has settled, we will fix the radio antenna and call for help. I’m quite sure that people in town will be worried about your disappearance. Make yourself comfortable.”
Calvin had remained calm during the conversation. He had looked at Ekaterina, fascinated by the woman’s sheer massiveness. Michelle could barely help staring, but he seemed to be completely mesmerised. At last, he asked:
“How did you become so, uh, large? Is this the super-soldier formula?”

[El_Roy_1999]

Confessions

The old man stared at him for a second, then smiled.
“Well, no. But you are well informed. What you see here is the product of the Stachanov project. You see, after the Great Patriotic War, that’s World War II for Americans, several researchers and scientists were given the order to create a kind of super-worker training programme to provide the Soviet Union with a manpower advantage. I guess the idea came from comic books, since this was what we were given as inspiration. We were even allowed to learn English to read them.” The woman snickered. “Work progressed very slowly. I was a junior researcher at the beginning and spent most of my active life around here. Anyway, for reasons best left unknown, the facility was named after Georgy Zhukov. When Brezhnev came to power, we had a bit of a struggle. One of those personal things which people from the West cannot understand. Still, we were shut down to reduce the amount of things named for Zhukov.” He coughed. “Which was tragic, since we were about to achieve success. When the area was evicted, we hadn’t managed to make any human testing. We only contributed to the “modification” of local wildlife. Hence the bear.” He took a sip from his cup. The woman continued:
“I was a lab assistant at the time, and we had plans to flee the Union together, so we wanted to take some of the research with us. Out of desperation, we finally did some human testing.” She casually flexed her arm, causing the seams of her shirt to creak. “In the end, I was way too noticeable to leave the country. We settled down around here, keeping to ourselves.”
Calvin had been listening attentively all the time. Michelle asked:
“That’s all very nice. But surely, the beasts you tested your procedure on must have died long ago. So, where did the monster-bear come from?”
“The method must have changed the recipients DNA: I mean, have you noticed how some Russian heavy athletes have, well, begun to look more human recently? You know, less hormonally imbalanced?” Michelle nodded. “I’m proud of my kids.”
Calvin looked rather distraught for a moment. After a second, he asked:
“Do you have any remaining information on the procedure? Do you remember how you did it?”
The old man laughed. He shook his head:
“I’m sorry. All this happened decades ago, and trust me, all the relevant information has disappeared years ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if some American multi-millionaire businessman bought the archives after the Fall.”
“That’s too bad.” Calvin pondered the answer. Ekaterina asked:
“What are you looking for and why are you here?”
The Asian woman explained the situation. Her massive interlocutor merely shrugged. The old man put down his cup and said:
“I am very sorry that you have travelled so far to no avail, but it is best for us to go to sleep now. It has been a rather tiresome day for all of us. If you do not mind, young man, you should sleep on the sofa, I’ll make myself comfortable on the chairs. I do not need much sleep, besides, it is only courteous to leave the bed to the women.”
Calvin looked crestfallen, but conceded. They went to bed. Michelle climbed into the bed. Moments later, the old man’s wife got in. The bed sunk in a little. At first, she wondered if she would be beaten to death if the woman were to flail her arms while sleeping. When the room was dark, she finally found the courage to ask:
“How does it feel?”
The massive woman turned over, lying on her side. Her enormous body bunched together, but still her head seemed to lie much higher than Michelle’s. Ekaterina whispered her answer:
“It feels great. At first, it was awful. No way to find any clothes at all. After a while, I got used to it. You know, this place used to be really rough on me. Most of the men around here were desperate to the point of committing a crime and I was almost raped when I came here in the 70s. After the “test”, the men’s interest declined. Which wasn’t bad.” Michelle could almost hear the woman smirk. “Let’s put it this way: I’m still the area’s arm-wrestling champion. Anyway, Anatolij likes it, and it’s fine by me…”
All of a sudden, Calvin shouted:
“You’re lying, the both of you! Zhukov was a military man. They wouldn’t name it for him if there was no military interest. Besides, I doubt there are comic books about super-workers in the US!”

[El_Roy_1999]

Side-interest

“You are, of course, right.” The old man switched the light back on. “The powers that were worked on a super-soldier programme. It was, of course, unsuccessful. The “Bogatyr” project was an earlier attempt to engineer super-warriors for the defence of the Motherland. The “Stachanov” project was a spin-off. We were hired to turn the rather absurd findings of the first attempt into something useful. With the notable exception of Ekaterina, there were no results. You can return to sleep now.”
Calvin stood up, stepped over to the old man’s chair, and grabbed him.
“Tell me everything! Do it, or I’ll…”
Michelle tried to stop him, but Ekaterina threw her cover down, jumped out of her bed and wrestled him to the ground within seconds. The American screamed, apparently in pain. The muscular woman held him down, twisting his arm. She snarled:
“We offer our hospitality. It is good for you not to abuse it.”
“Okay, okay! I give up!” He screamed again as she twisted his arm further along. “I apologise. Stop it! Let me go!” She gave him an icy glare, loosened her grip and said very calmly:
“You can go back to sleep. Tomorrow, you will leave this area. Is this clear?”
He nodded apprehensively. Getting up, she gave him a last spiteful look, then climbed back into her bed.

Michelle was horrified. Calvin was still whimpering in the darkness, apparently his arm was bruised and hurting. She barely dared take a breath. The hulking woman soon started breathing regularly, apparently fast asleep. The sudden display of strength and brutality had astonished her. She had lost control of the whole situation and mostly wanted to be home now. Even when their convoy had been attacked by rebels during a reportage in Chad, she had barely lost her cool. This was different. The hostile environment, their broken car and the monstrous woman gave her a deep feeling of imprisonment.
After a while, she managed to calm down, deciding that she’d try to bargain with the strange couple to call for help. They had mentioned a radio station after all.

The next morning, Michelle got up, awaking from a strange dream. She had imagined being in a dark and rather damp corridor, strange sounds emanating from the ground below. It had been rather creepy, but not an actual nightmare. Ekaterina was busy preparing breakfast with Anatolij. When they were done, they called their guests. Michelle went over to the table and sat down. Calvin was nowhere to be seen.
“Have you seen Calvin?” She quickly scanned the room and realised that her partner’s clothes had vanished. Her hosts searched the room, noticed the missing boots and quickly got dressed to catch up with Michelle, who had already put on her winter gear and run out. The coldness outside hit her like a wall. The young woman immediately spotted the footsteps in the freshly fallen snow and followed them as fast as she could. Soon, she was running through the forest, occasionally stopping to catch her breath and shout Calvin’s name. Still, only the emptiness answered. He had apparently followed the fence for a while, then climbed over it. She did the same, dropping gently on the soft snow.
Looking around, she realised that the closer area was flat and after a couple of yards, mostly devoid of trees. She stepped out into the open, still following his track. In the chilly distance, dark shapes of concrete buildings loomed. She advanced cautiously, preparing to duck should need arise. At last, she reached the site itself. A fallen statue marked the entryway in a depressing way, the rest of the complex as desolate as it’s figurehead.
She wandered under the arches of Soviet architecture in its purest form, until she finally found a small, half-opened door. She pushed against it and disappeared into the darkness.

[El_Roy_1999]

Darkness

Michelle’s eyes needed a few seconds to become accustomed to the darkness. She could make out strange shapes, probably scientific apparatus from the 60s, littered about the room. She walked around, bumping against various crates. At last, she perceived a faint glow. Approaching, she found it to be an emergency case, painted in phosphorescent paint. She opened it and found a first aid kit (which smelled awful) and an electric torch. Wondering whether it still worked, she tried to switch it on. Nothing. She checked for batteries, but found that the thing had none. Examining the handle, she found that it had a kind of pump-grip. She started pressing it repeatedly, occasionally stopping to complain about her aching fingers, then switched it on.
Yellowish electric light from ages past illuminated the devastated workshop. She looked around, thought about shouting for Calvin, but decided not to. She checked the path to the next room, Calvin’s footsteps being clearly visible on the ground, and switched the light back off. She crouched low to prevent her pursuers from detecting her and followed her friend’s trail. As soon as Michelle was inside, she closed the door behind her, turned the light back on, and was surprised.
The room was full of file cabinets. Some of them were made of wood and had collapsed long ago, others, made of steel, still stood. Several of the cabinets had been opened, files opened, than thrown on the floor. Clearly, Calvin had found what he looked for. She glanced out of the room into a dark corridor, eager to find a sign of life.
Suddenly, there was a loud howl, followed by scream. Calvin! He was in trouble! She rushed out, looking for her friend. As she entered the lab area, she heard another desperate cry for help. She was on some kind of catwalk, high above a dark hall. On the far side, she barely perceived a rusty ladder, half broken and very unstable.
“I’m coming, Calvin! Stay calm!”
“I can’t! It’s over there!” His shout was interrupted by another monstrous howl. Michelle held her flashlight over the railing, illuminating the area below. Calvin was down there, between several large green containers, probably containing remains of chemical agents. Something in the darkness was approaching, but Michelle could not make out it’s shape.
She looked around, searching for a weapon of some sort. Grabbing a small metal crate, she pulled it on the railing, aimed vaguely at her friend’s assailant, struggled to hold it, then dropped it. The box fell down, hit the strange creature on it’s shoulder. It gave off a strange, almost human scream and scuttled off into the darkness. After a few seconds, she had recovered from the strain. The projectile had dented one of the chemical containers in the process, it must have weighed eighty pounds.
Downstairs, Calvin walked to the ladder quickly. Michelle followed his example:
“Get up here, let’s leave! Ekaterina and her husband are coming, we’ve got to get away!”
“No. You must come down, I have to show you something. Besides, thanks a lot. I have no idea what this might have been, but you’ve scared it off.”
He pointed his flashlight up, he apparently had brought one in his luggage. After a few moments of hesitation, Michelle climbed down the creaking ladder. When she arrived, she instinctively hugged her partner.
“Why did you run away? It it’s so important to you, we could have sneaked away later on. We would have been together in the first place!“
“Sorry. I just wanted to get here quickly. Look at this.” He showed her some files he had taken upstairs. “This is what we came for, this is pure gold!”
She looked at the diagrams. She only had a vague grasp of biology, and was unable to make heads or tails of it. Frantically, Calvin pointed at several formulas and insisted on her looking at strange and confusing tables. He uttered endless scientific or pseudo-scientific gobbledygook. Michelle waited until he was finished. At last, he said:
“It’s the super-soldier formula. It’s here! We’ve found it!”
Just as Michelle reached the conclusion that Calvin would not want to publish it, the horrifying scream was heard again. Behind them, the rusty ladder collapsed into a heap of debris.

[El_Roy_1999]

Frying pan

Thinking quickly and surprisingly acting in unison, they ran into the darkness between the chemical tanks. Occasionally, dried-up trickles of acid substances seemed to have worn off the tanks covering, and large puddles of greyish liquid had formed. The fugitives jumped across, behind them, muffled screams approached. They cut left, right, crossed a short ramp, their assailants steps always close behind them. At last, they reached a large bulkhead. They ran under it, grabbed the gate’s handle and slammed it shut.
Outside, they heard heavy, irregular breathing, as if several foes were trying to catch their breath. After a while, a scratching sound could be heard from the other side. The pursuers apparently tried to force the door without much success. Calming down, Michelle checked the room with her flashlight. The room had been some kind of animal “storage”. It reminded her of a report on animal testing she once did. However, the cages looked rather big and spacious, even for monkeys.
Most of the cages had been opened, some of them forced, others had apparently been unlocked. Out of the few locked cages, only one contained remains of a living creature. Only the skeleton was left. It was more broken than whole. Some enormous force had been applied to it.
“What is this place?” She tried to calm down.
“Seems to be the room where they kept their test subjects.” Calvin seemed to be taken aback by the sheer awfulness of the place. Besides, the whittling sound outside started to get on their nerves. Holding up his file, he added:
“Let’s go on. The actual testing laboratories have to be somewhere around here.” He started to walk towards a large door at the far end of the room.
“Honestly now, Calvin, what are you up to? This whole situation is so fucked up that I’d really like to know what’s going on. You’ve got to admit that none of this is even remotely normal.”
He turned around, his expression calm but somehow unsettling.
“Everything is perfect, don’t you see? At last, I have found it. Every second I’m here, more proof appears. They did it! Haven’t you seen the woman? The Russians actually built the super-soldier. They created a superhero.” He mumbled something, then said: “No, no, they almost created him. What they did was to develop a method to make one. To make me into one!”
Michelle shut her eyes, put her hand on her face and sighed. There she was, stuck in the middle of nowhere, some strange, probably mutated Czernobyl-monsters behind her, her ex compensating for his poor self-respect in front of her and no way to escape. The scratching behind her had been scaring her, now it was putting her on edge. She desperately wanted to slap this idiot on the back of his head. Besides, deep down, a strange feeling of hysteria was floating up.
“Calvin, please, this is stupid. We should get out of here now. Whatever it is that you’re looking for isn’t here. The only thing that can happen is that some monstrous wild animal will try to eat us. Please, let’s just leave. This place is awful, and it scares the hell out of me. We should figure out a way to go home and just forget about this.”
Meanwhile, her partner had walked over to the other side. He opened the door, and stepped through. She followed him.
“Stop, please. This is just some horrible nightmare. I’m pretty sure this is some “Dr. Death” human experiment thing. There’ll be no results whatsoever, just some mangled corpses. We don’t even have a camera around. Please, let’s get back.”
Unwittingly, she had followed him in the next room. It turned out to be a large hall, devoid of windows. Complex apparatus had been installed, cables and pipes covered the walls, broken-down electric lamps were attached to the roof. Several large vats had been built, filtering machines and pumps were everywhere. Also, several cages and restraining devices were littered about. Calvin was ecstatic. He ran around like crazy, examining the machines before finally climbing one of the ladders on a vat. Michelle followed him, grabbed his leg and shouted:
“I have to get out of here! Come back down! Stop!” She pulled at him, he tried to maintain his grip, did so, then the ladder broke. Actually, the ladder remained attached, but the concrete wall to which it had been bolted, tore. Clearly, the concrete had turned brittle over time, and a large chunk fell out. Calvin fell down and was hit on the head by the ladder, knocking him out.
The piece of concrete missed Michelle by mere inches. Various debris landed on her leg as she fell down, pinning her to the ground.
Behind them, the door started to give way. Finally, to add insult to injury, a large blob of greyish jelly poured out of the vat and swamped her. She screamed.

[El_Roy_1999]

Fire

Michelle coughed. Blackness engulfed her as her electric torch dimmed down. Strange, horrifying gurgling noises approached. The greyish ooze covered her almost completely, choking her. She tried to get up, but could not. The sound around her changed to a slow, interested sniffing. She fell silent, holding her breath. The creature must have been millimetres away. She could smell it’s foul stench.
At last, the beast, or whatever it was, started to move away. As she calmed down, she realised that the jelly that covered her was starting to itch. She tried to suppress the urge to scratch herself. It only got worse. She breathed deeply, trying to convince herself that this was a bad dream, and that she’d only have to wake up to be safe. It was to no avail. Instead, the awful sensation of her skin developing the most horrifying rash in her life only increased. Soon, she was wrestling with herself so as not to move.
She sensed that the monster was now approaching Calvin’s prone form. Thousands of awful possibilities roared through her mind. Would it eat him? Would it kill him? Suddenly moving, she caused some of the rubble to shift. The creature instantly reacted, spun around and attacked. It howled with rage, jumped on Michelle’s prone body and started raking at her with it’s claws.
At first, Michelle screamed in pain. The invisible assailant relentlessly struck at her, rending deep cuts. As the monster prepared to bite, the victim realised that she could see it. Out of the complete, stygian darkness of the underground vault, a greyish pattern started to emerge. Hazy at first, it came into focus slowly, until seconds later, Michelle was able to discern the creature’s nature.
It appeared to be a mass of amalgamated flesh, part human, part animal, it’s shape grossly distended. Internal organs appeared to have grown directly under it’s skin, giving it the bizarre disfigurement of a stem cell tumour. Michelle struck out with her hand to defend herself, dazing the creature for mere moments. Struggling to get up, she soon was on all fours. She lounged forward, striking at her opponent with surprising force and aggression.
The beast coiled away, apparently intimidated by it’s foes aggression and fled back into the shadows.
Michelle got up at last, her skin still sticky with sweat, greyish ooze and blood. Staggering through the twilight to Calvin’s prone body, she knelt down and shook him to wake him up. At last, he moaned and opened his eyes.
“What happened? Where am I? What’s going on?”
He clenched her hand to ensure himself of her presence.
“You fell and knocked yourself out. We’re still at the Russian lab. Everything’s alright, I’m here.”
“Where? I can’t see you. It’s so dark.” She looked at him, wondering what had happened to him. She could see him quite well, the diffuse light providing her with enough illumination to allow her to discern his features. His eyes looked alright.
“How do you feel? There’s a little light around.” She wiped a piece of dried blood from her face.
“It’s dark. What happened to my eyes? Help me, get me some light. Please!” Instinctively, she reached over to pick up the flash light. She gave it to him. After a few seconds of reflection, he started squeezing the handle, generating some power to turn it on. At last, he pushed the button. Light flared. Michelle was blinded for a few seconds.
“It’s alright, I can see! I can see you! I can…” His voice trailed off.
Michelle slowly recovered her vision.
“What now?”
“What happened to you?”

Lemontow asked the American to sit down. The diplomat was weary from his long flight, but had been grateful to accept the invitation. The Russian began:
“The two Americans have vanished yesterday. I thought it would be best to inform you now so that you can take measures to save them. As you are well aware, this area is rather dangerous, so it’s best to search them quickly. Do you have people around to help you?”
“We have some marines at the embassy. They are here in plain clothes. I trust you to maintain secrecy. Neither your government nor mine want a controversy. We thank you for informing us.”
“It’s always a pleasure to help. My father’s friends are my friends.”

[El_Roy_1999]

Metamorphosis

Michelle was confused. Her whole body seemed totally alive. She was full of energy, her body pulsating, her muscles quivering. As the torch’s light illuminated her, she looked down at herself. Her clothes had been torn to shreds, barely covering her. Her whole body was awfully scarred, large red rends were still visible, but seemed to heal as she looked at them. Apparently, the grey ooze had been absorbed into them via some bizarre chemical process.
What surprised both of them even more was the fact that her muscles seemed to be pounding under her skin. She could watch her abdominal muscles contracting and relaxing quicker and quicker. As the pulsation became too strong, she was thrown back onto the floor.
Calvin got up dazedly and stepped over to her. He held her in his arms trying to help her. As she shook on, he was quickly forced to accept that there was nothing he could do. He sincerely hoped that this was the effect of the famed super-soldier formula and not some awful poison. He tore a piece of fabric from his t-shirt and started wiping off the grey substance.
Meanwhile, the shaking had amplified. Her whole body was now vibrating, almost blurring with motion. Then it stopped as suddenly as it had started. Michelle let out a deep breath. It felt as if her heart was going to explode. The pressure inside her was enormous. She stammered:
“W-w-what’s going on? Help me! Please!” He laid the soaked piece of cloth on the ground and said:
“I’m not sure. I think that you have been splashed by the super-soldier formula. It must be the grey stuff in the vats over there.”
“Is it dangerous? What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t know. In the few documents I actually looked at, the formula was described as being red and liquid. It may have transformed over time. You know, like wine turning into vinegar.”
“Do you think this is good? Doesn’t seem like a good idea.”
“I don’t know. But as far as I know, the original thing didn’t work. It killed the people they used it on…” His voice trailed off. He instantly regretted what he had said. Michelle gave him an awful look, full of horror and panic. Moments later, their peaceful conversation was history.

Michelle’s body shook again. The convulsions became faster and faster. She struck out around her, smacked Calvin into his face and broke his nose with a resounding crack. His eyes swimming he stared at her: Once again, her muscles were pulsating madly, her whole body undulating as every single muscle-fibre strained at the same time. She screamed as if she would be torn apart.
However, as he helplessly watched the ordeal, he realised that she was changing. Indeed, her pounding muscles seemed to grow. As she was thrown around, he saw that her abdominal muscles were slowly emerging from her flat stomach, like an undersea volcano bursting through the ocean’s surface. At the same time, her legs were pounding the ground as she struggled but quickly filled out to world-class sprinter standard. Her teardrop shaped quadriceps blew up, her calves pushing the tattered remains of her trousers aside.
She twisted and turned until she laid face down, hoping for the pulsations to subside. At last she could get on all fours. Her arms had equally grown, giving her the powerful upper arms of a professional athlete. Her back had become wider. Her neck had also turned more powerful.
He stared in open disbelief at her. She groaned and sat down. Catching her breath, she said: “Boy, am I tired. And hungry. I feel awful. But it seems to have stopped. I guess the stuff doesn’t work anymore.”
Calvin motioned her to take a look at herself. Her gaze trailed down. Her eyes widened.
“What the…” As she slowly realised what had happened, a strange feeling of elation was rising amid her despair. The change had come so quickly, that she was still confused. Her body seemed to ache in a diffuse way. She stood up. Michelle heard strange noises from the patch of shadow were the creature had disappeared. Calming down and concentrating, she suddenly realised that she could not only hear the creatures breathing in the next area, but also that the dark area mysteriously cleared up. She could easily see in the dark.
“Two things, Calvin: First, I don’t think I’ll need my glasses anymore. Second, we should leave quickly and quietly…”

[El_Roy_1999]

Open warfare

Outside, the Russian couple had reached the entrance rather quickly. They had waited for a while to see whether their guests had found something. After a few minutes of consideration, they went in, Anatolij still in his wife’s “backpack”. As they followed the footsteps in the dust, a strange, rhythmic sound, becoming louder and louder was heard outside. Ekaterina quickly stepped back to the entryway and looked out. Her eyes took moments to adjust back to the brightness outside, and then she saw them.
Large, heavy helicopters, two of them, approaching. Their massive frames suggesting stability and power, the machines cleared the woods and entered the open area. Ducking back into the darkness, she asked:
“What’s going on? Who are these people?” Her husband answered quietly.
“I don’t know. They look like our machines, but seem to be privately owned. Maybe they’re army surplus. Looks like one of our local oligarchs got himself some toys.”
“Do you think it’s Lemontow? We should have gotten rid of him when he came here the first time.”
The machines were now descending, their landing gears slowly folding out. The wind caused by the propellers blasted the dust and snow around, creating little streams of grey particles around the cobbles on the floor.
As the helicopters landed, people in winter gear jumped out, crouched low and ran for cover. Ekaterina slid further inside the complex. It was best not to be seen in the first place. Her massive form merged with the shadows around her, just as two of the soldiers inspected the doorway.
Suddenly, she heard a series of screams and clangs. Clearly, their guests were still alive, but not for long. She instantly assumed that the beasts would take care of them. The most important part for now would be to protect the materials in place. Anatolij climbed out of the backpack and said:
“Keep them busy. I’ll check the files.” He picked up one of the flashlights, squeezed it’s handle and set off into the darkness.
Ekaterina remained silently, waiting. The first soldier entered the building, the second one quickly covering the area with his rifle. Instantly, the first one checked the next doorway, while his partner advanced. The fantastically built woman waited in the shadows beside the doorway, her muscles tensing. As he passed the arch, he slid on his night-vision goggles. A high-pitched whine was heard as the device was switched on. He looked to his right. Nothing. Quickly, he twisted his head around, only to witness Ekaterina’s fast-approaching fist. Performing a marvellous direct, she projected the man’s limp body across the room, her shoulder muscles vibrating under the thick winter clothing. As her victim crashed into the furniture, she had already left the room, rushing his partner.
The surprised man could barely raise his rifle before she grabbed him by the front of his uniform. She lifted him up with a single hand, knocking his head against the ceiling. Groggily, the man hung his head. A second blow from her left fist smashed him back on the ground. He was instantly unconscious. She picked up their weapons and goggles and disappeared into the shadows. Outside, the remaining soldiers advanced only to find the two scouts out cold.
Meanwhile, Lemontow had climbed out of the helicopter. The Americans were quite professional about the whole situation, but had clearly been surprised by the sudden counter-attack. He decided not to interfere. After all, they were trying to do him a favour.

Inside the complex, Michelle urged Calvin to leave the area.
“We’ll come back later. For now, we should get away before Ekaterina shows up. Besides, I don’t want to be eaten alive.”
“I know, I know, but look at this: It’s my opportunity. The opportunity. I can be a superhero. You’ve got to help me. Please.”
“Honestly, we must get out. Let’s just scoop up a bit, we’ll see how it works in a lab later on.”
Reluctantly, Calvin did so. As he filled one of the dusty coffee mugs that the scientists had kept in the area, he felt a pang of jealousy. He had barely realised what had happened to his colleague, and neither had she. Still, he felt awkward. He had dragged her into this mess, and oddly enough, she had reaped the reward. Of course, her argument was sound, but with strength like hers, he would easily hold his own against any critters in this cursed place. Just as she was examining the room in search of a useable exit, he scooped up a large amount of the goo and smeared it in his jacket. It must have been the same amount that she had “absorbed”.
As she called him, he mumbled a little and followed her. Entering the next area, they found themselves in a convoluted area which must have been the scientists living quarters. Behind them, their shadowy pursuers were creeping on, anxious to stay out of sight. Looking around, they found a derelict elevator. Being out of power, it was shut tightly. Michelle gave Calvin a helpless look. In reply, he put his hands together by their backs and made a motion of “pushing apart”. Slowly realising her possibilities, Michelle nodded at him and proceeded to knack her knuckles.