Who's the real devil?

Summary

It is the year 2096 and radical feminists have become unstoppable. The world's ingenious female virologists (or fevirologists, as they insist to be called) have come up with a deadly sexually transmitted virus designed to kill a rapist in 5 minutes. Lorna, one of their test subjects, escapes the facility on a vengeful mission of her own.

He stood still as he heard her footsteps. He could identify a female by their unhurried light footsteps and indistinct breathing. This one was barely in her late teens The daft ones always preoccupied themselves with *Thought-Send texts or put their *Mentaphones in. Those were the easiest. Amazing how technology had indeed made life easier for everyone.

As she came closer he could smell her. Shield roll-on, beer and a few cigarettes. Hmm a feisty one. She must have had an exciting night. He pictured her stomping the tavern tables with her crusty pixie weave and cheap lipstick, men circling her. She was a filthy hoe and she would learn tonight.

He positioned himself behind some thick bushes. He needed to get more close. As he removed himself from the shrub he stepped on a twig. Snap! She stopped. She looked around her wildly.

It seemed forever before she hesitantly continued her walk, sniffling miserably. Her pace became faster. His pulse quickened with longing indicative of how long he had his last high. His wife had kept a close eye on him, almost as if she knew. He was fed up with that bitch ordering him up and about. It made his cravings stronger.

The girl passed him. He came at her from behind. She immediately sensed him and spun around. He grinned at her sardonically and spit on his palms.

She froze...

*   *   *

Everything that happened next seemed like an out of body experience. As she watched the man pump in and out at what seemed like her body, she stiffened. STOP! she screamed mentally. But she couldn't move her lips. She realized his hand was on her mouth, clamping her tightly.

He gave one last pump and rolled over.

Just her luck. Now she would have to move abandon - OK maybe that was just too drastic- or delay her plans to get her revenge on Spokie, the good for nothing asshole who had hit her repeatedly throughout their brief relationship.

The man started groaning. He was probably one of those bigoted male supremacists who thought they would go back to reality after this was over. The selfish toad had no idea what was coming to him.

"OMG is this my dick?! What is happening? Did you just put a spell on my dick you witch?," he slurred between screams.

His penis had just turned into a dark Victorian purple colour and limper (or more appropriately drier?) in texture.
She got up and smoothed her dress.
He must be a Hypersensitive 4

"Listen to me. You are going to going to die now."

His eyes widened in shock as he clenched his teeth.

"Unfortunately I'm in quite a hurry to wait or take you home. So I'm going to dig your grave. Its best you be quiet as possible."

As she took out her *Garden Tool T46 out of her body purse she selected Self Digging Shovel.

She was too tired of this.

*Thought-Send texts ;- A phone feature that lets you send texts by just thought
*Mentaphones :- Earphones that let you play any music you think of
*Garden Tool T46 :- A device designed to compress and store simulations of a wide variety of tools and machinery. Its the size of a man's wallet

Watching The Sun Set

Watching the sunset has always been my favorite past time. It reminded me that there was an end to everything. And God knows I needed to be reminded of that all the time. I sat on the hood of my car. Farid, my right hand man, stood next to me. He instinctively knew when I needed silence.

17 years ago I would watch the sunset on the sidewalk, pretending to be blind for change while I breastfed my daughter. 7 years ago, I would watch the sunset as I walked, with my merchandise perched steadily on my head, from the market to my home in the squatter area.

Present day, I was a middle-aged woman who wore mostly expensive suits and got driven around in the latest cars. To a casual onlooker I was an educated, successful woman of sophisticated taste and a lush background. They were mistaken.
I'm a powerful woman with a notorious reputation, a broken moral compass and a scorched conscience. And everything I have does not, and can never replace all that I have lost on my fate-filled journey to material comfort.

The sun slowly gloomed over the ruins of Kumilinda, one of the most dangerous streets in Dar Es Salaam. Farid puffed his cigarette calmly, as we both waited.

Finally a man's hat came in to view. My heart jumped. I recognised the man's walk as Darweshi. He alone seemed to have survived the attack out of the eight men I had sent. Not that I had cared. He had stolen from me once and his life was worth nothing more than what I could possibly gain.

He walked in tired steps, carrying with him a seemingly unconscious girl who barely managed to lean on his shoulder. Could it be her?

"Help him." I commanded Farid.

For the first time in years I felt a range of emotions rise up my chest. Guilt being the most prominent of all. It had always lingered. It had haunted me after every kill, every innocent we abducted, every life I destroyed.

Could this be her? God let it be her.

"Get her in the car." It would be a long drive. "Wait"

I rushed to meet them. She was covered in a bloody hooded coat. I pulled it over to make sure it was her. She moaned as I pushed back her hair extension, revealing a Lupita type complexion with high cheekbones in dulled amateur makeup.

It wasn't her. It wasn't my daughter.
At that moment I realised I would never see her again, Karma was indeed paying me back in the most ironic way possible.

I smiled bitterly. I felt something salty on my inner lips. I was weeping silently.

Epiphany

She looked at him, emotionless. This man was definitely not who she once swooned for.

The Norman she fell for was toned, ambitious and had money to at least take her out once a week. He wasn't a bitter, pudgy insecure man with smelly breath who now stood before her.

He glowered at her nakedness.

"You aint come home in days and this where you been? You don't deserve me, hoe." His American slang, she once thought was cool, annoyed her now.

Nina glanced at her equally sweaty naked partner, Jay, who seemed more annoyed at being interrupted than scared.

"You know your way out, ashy ass nigga." She spit back. She might have been a hoe, but at this point she was a tired one. Tired of his shit.

Norman would have lunged for her there and then but the man who had been eating his fiance's ass a few minutes ago before he busted in showed no intention of leaving first and he was quite too well built to take on. He found his gaze dropping to Jay's crotch. What he saw there made his anger escalate to a fever pitch.

"I loved you, wanted to marry you, and this is what you do behind my back!!?"
Maybe at some point he had. His love had lit her up the first few years but it eventually became suffocating and she was drained.

Nina was bored with routine monthly family dinners, his endless job hunting and living in their washed out apartment with his smug sister and her bastard kids.
His volcanic tantrums and occasional beatings had kept them going throughout their 5 year engagement. She had mistaken all of it for passion.

Her reverie continued as he proceeded with his rant.
"...mum's death"
- "...lost my job"
-"...day I proposed"
-"...really miscarriages, not abortions?"
 -"...never taking you back again"

As she watched him leave, she wondered what time the pizza joint down the street would close up.