Megan: Soccer Mom - Revision history

Natalie Bayer at 04:17, 4 June 2022

2022-06-04T04:17:01Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:17, 4 June 2022
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	The late summer evening caused the air, while cooling, to still remain warm. In the idealistic suburban sprawl of homes, was a cozy little house at the end of a street. It was picturesque with a literal white picket fence warding the house against the somewhat more trafficked road on one side. The blue paint wasn’t even chipping and the grass out front was well maintained, vibrantly green, and immaculately trimmed. This was due to Megan and her nearly unstoppable need to keep her home in an immaculate state. To her neighbors she was just Megan, the woman who seemed to have a boundless amount of energy and motivation to keep her household perpetually in a state of perfection. To others, though, she was the last thing they would ever see. Megan was so much more than a suburban housewife, there were many aspects of her existence that no one knew.		The late summer evening caused the air, while cooling, to still remain warm. In the idealistic suburban sprawl of homes, was a cozy little house at the end of a street. It was picturesque with a literal white picket fence warding the house against the somewhat more trafficked road on one side. The blue paint wasn’t even chipping and the grass out front was well maintained, vibrantly green, and immaculately trimmed. This was due to Megan and her nearly unstoppable need to keep her home in an immaculate state. To her neighbors she was just Megan, the woman who seemed to have a boundless amount of energy and motivation to keep her household perpetually in a state of perfection. To others, though, she was the last thing they would ever see. Megan was so much more than a suburban housewife, there were many aspects of her existence that no one knew.
	Megan was, first and foremost, an exceptional killer. She had been called things like contract killer and assassin, but she was both more and less than that. She was a tool that received orders and executed on those orders with incredible efficiency. It was a massive amount of work keeping up the image of a sweet and loving wife, an idealistic housekeeper, and moonlighting as the kind of person who took on murder for hire. Somehow, though, she managed to sell the image flawlessly, and to her knowledge no one thought that the woman who was always tending to her garden on the weekends had blood on her hands.
	The evening on this particular late summer evening was wearing on and Megan’s husband had left town just the day before, leaving Megan alone in the house for nearly a week before he returned. She didn’t mind, not having her husband around meant that she could really spend the time getting the house nice and clean for when he returned. Her evening was going to be spent on her hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor so that it was sparkling clean. She had already tied her long jet black hair up into a high ponytail before she had started her work. The intention was to try and keep her hair out of the way while she scrubbed the flooring, but as she moved and wiggled the hair managed to somehow work its way over her shoulder and onto her incredibly ample chest. Presently, she sat up, her thick legs curled under herself, stretching the light blue denim of her jeans to their absolute limits.
	Megan let out a small huff, and for the fourth time in nearly half an hour she reached up past her enormous chest and plucked the braided ponytail of dark hair from her dark blue sweater and tossed it back over her shoulder. She could feel it thump into her back, about half way down. She dropped back down and placed one palm on the tile floor, and used the weight of her upper body to help apply pressure to the sponge in her other hand. At times she could feel the very tips of her breasts brush against the hard linoleum floors as she scrubbed. Megan even began to hum slightly to herself as she worked her way across the kitchen floor, starting at the far end and working back towards the attached living space.
	In the seedy underworld of contract killing and assassinations, Megan was well known as the best of the best. She took pride in her work and did it well. Too well some felt. Though she kept up an image of the perfect soccer mom persona, someone who was as infamous as Megan could only hide for so long. As the shadows around the neighborhood lengthened and the residents closed their blinds and retreated into their cozy homes, the evening’s activities were not yet done. A dark shape darted from tree, to car, then to the corner of a house. The lithe figure kept a vigilant watch around her, eyes darting left and right. She too was skilled enough with the dark art of dealing in death, and Megan was putting a dent in her own paycheck. There was something far too appealing in the work that Megan did that made everyone flock to her, and no one enjoyed playing second fiddle.
	Tonight’s hit was not for pay, not for revenge or some vendetta, it was just curiosity and an attack of opportunity. The woman was wearing dark clothes, a simply long sleeved shirt that fit her frame loosely and made it difficult to identify her as either male or female. Full length black cargo pants and matching boots lent her a distinctly masculine look, but the way she moved and slunk into the shadows belied something more feminine. A simple webbed belt with a small pouch and a holster with a thin pistol in it were all that accompanied the otherwise unassuming outfit. It was all a means of camouflage. If someone was unable to identify her gender, then they would struggle to identify her at all. The woman dashed across the street and ducked down behind the shrubs one house down from Megan’s home just as a bus passed on the somewhat main road at the corner. Once the headlights had passed, the woman stayed low to the ground and made her way up to the fence that encased the back yard and was able to easily scale it and drop down into the unlight rear of the house.
	The evening had crept up quickly and darkness had fallen with a swiftness that the entire summer season hadn’t seen. The deep shadows allowed the woman to slink along the side of the house and peer into the only source of light in the area, the light from Megan’s house. The woman found Megan on her hands and knee, nearing the end of her kitchen scrubbing. SHe observed as the woman sat up, tossed her braided hair over her shoulder and then resumed her work. This was as perfect a time as any other and when she gently slid open the back door, it smoothly and silently rolled open. Predictably, the door was so well oiled and well kept that it was easy to slip inside. The woman stayed low to the ground and slipped up behind Megan, reaching into a pocket on her thigh and pulling out a thin filament of hard steel wire affixed on both ends to a palm sized carbon fiber handle.
	The woman quickly flipped the handle in her palm and the wire naturally formed a loop, which, in an instant, was slipped over Megan’s head and landed on her throat. In a single swift motion the woman pulled in opposing directions with the handle, tightening the wire around Megan’s neck, digging it into her flesh. With an uncanny amount of strength the woman pulled back slightly, arching Megan’s back and thrusting her chest forward. It was a movement that this particular woman was well practiced in, but Megan seemed to be unphased by the motion. Most of her victims would immediately start clawing at the wire, or at very least struggling to break free. More importantly they would gasp and gurgle, struggling to take in any amount of life giving oxygen. Megan on the other hand, simply remained silent and, while her back arched, her arms remained at her side. More disturbing to the would be assassin was Megan’s voice, spoken clearly and without any distress.
	~~“Suspending domestic protocols. Defense systems, engaged.” Megan muttered just loud enough for the attacker to hear.~~
	The words, spoken so clearly and so unexpectedly, gave a moment of pause to the attacker. She never let up her grip on the garotte, but was taken aback. In an instant she saw both of Megan’s arms reach up and around, clamping on to the attackers wrists, a movement that seemed to be all too perfectly smooth for someone who should be dying. With what felt like little effort on Megan’s part, the woman found herself being hauled off of her feet and flung across the kitchen and slamming into the cabinets across from her. For only a brief moment her vision became blurry and her head seemed to wobble. As her vision returned she could see Megan standing up and tearing the steel wire away from her throat and tossing it aside. Her vision became clearer and she could see the distinct line where the steel wire had cut into the flesh along Megan’s neck, but where anyone else would be coughing and struggling to draw a steady breath, Megan was showing no signs of any discomfort.
	In a desperate moment to finish the job before she was fully identified, she fumbled at her hip and drew out the small pistol, leveling it at Megan’s oversized bosom and pulled the trigger twice. The first round found it’s target in the soft fleshy outer layers of Megan’s chest, blasting into her chest where the heart should be. The small caliber round was muffled slightly by the presence of a barrel mounted silencer, but it wasn’t enough to fully suppress the sound, surely someone would have heard it. The second pull of the trigger, in conjunction with the recoil from the first shot, sent a bullet zinging directly towards Megan’s head. The assassin knew she had struck her target perfectly, the dark blue turtleneck sweater was shredded over Megan’s heart and her head had snapped back from the impact of the second round.
	The woman sprang to her feet as Megan tumbled stiffly backwards, impacting the floor with a dull thump. The woman looked over at the once top ranked assassin and noted that there was a significant lack of blood and viscera around the room. It was the first indication that something was amiss. As she looked over what should have been an easy kill, she also noted the slight glint in both the chest and then head of her victim, like there was something metallic that had been exposed. Megan’s eyes were both open and her expression seemed cold and emotionless. The torn flesh just above her left eye was indication enough that she had hit her target, but all she was was a slightly dented sheet of shiny chrome.
	In an instant Megan’s hands pressed into the floor and pushed her upper torso into an upright position as her legs curled under her. Megan rose to her full height as her attacker's mouth fell open. Megan’s head swiveled oddly and locked her gaze on the woman. Megan’s unphased eyes met with the terror and panic in her attackers.
	“Subject identified. Susan Preston. Objective, terminate.” Megan said, her voice flat and sounding ever so slightly distorted. Not that Susan noticed, she was too busy realizing that she was trapped in a freshly cleaned and waxed kitchen. Megan took a step forward and raised her left arm, pointing the palm of her hand towards Susan. Her hand split in two, dividing her middle, index and thumb to one side, and her ring and pinky to the other. Both halves split and slid an inch away from each other just as a long metal tube of some kind shot out and locked into place.
	“What are you…” Susan said before realizing the danger she was in and dodged to one side as a bolt of some kind of energy crackled into the cabinets where she had been. Tossing a glance towards Megan, she saw that her head remained looking at where she had been until the smoke and dust cleared and then it swiveled and looked at her again. In that moment her hand readjusted and lined up another incoming blast at her. Susan’s mind snapped into a fight or flight mode and she chose both options. She sprang to her feet and charged at Megan, lowering her head and bringing her shoulder up. She slammed in to Megan and the two tumbled backwards to the carpeted floor behind. Susan scrambled away from Megan and headed directly for the back door. as she was about to pass through the sliding glass door she had crept in though, another white hot bolt of energy impacted the door, shattering it and sending shards of glass flying outward.
	Susan dove into the back yard, tumbling slightly across the manicured lawn and glancing over her shoulder at Megan. Her head and eyes were firmly locked on to Susan and she was marching forward with a kind of singularly focused mindset. Susan wasn’t sure what Megan was, but she knew what she wasn’t. Megan wasn’t even remotely human, and Susan knew that she needed to get away from her. She scrambled to her feet and began sprinting, her feet struggling to find purchase on the grass and stumbling forward. Megan stepped through the shattered glass door, her head tracking Susan as she gave pursuit. Susan was already moving rapidly away from her and leaping up to scramble over the fence. Megan’s complex robotic systems knew that her frame would not support such an action, nor would it be efficient, instead she reeled back with her right hand and thrust a fist through the locking mechanism on the gate and kicked it open.
	Susan was already regaining her footing and running at full speed away from Megan, but the robotic assassin now had an open field of vision and she too began to sprint after her target. As she ran her breasts bounced in rhythm with her legs, but her complex systems compensated for it and kept her balance. Susan didn’t dare look behind her until she reached the tall thick oak tree in Megan’s front yard. Once there she wheeled around it and took cover. She peeked out in time to see the android woman running towards her and managed to get off another short volley of bullets that impacted Megan’s body, but did nothing to slow her down. Susan reupholstered her sidearm and took off running again, this time towards the main road.
	Susan ran up the sidewalk, nearing the corner she glanced up and down the street, noticing an incoming city bus. A plan formulated in her mind in that moment, her bullets carried far too little mass to do anything to the approaching android, but a bus could do some real damage, the trick was to time it correctly. Susan looked over her shoulder at Megan, who was closing the distance to her with long strides. Susan also saw that the gun-like apparatus in her left hand had retracted and instead her right hand had split in two, revealing a long, straight blade. She gauged the timing of Megan’s strides and when she thought the time was right, she leapt into the road and sprinted across it.
	Megan was still singularly focused on her target, the woman who had attacked her and revealed her identity. She sprang into the road just as Susan had, and ran towards her, bladed hand in the air. She made it only a few steps before the city bus honked loudly and clipped into the robotic woman, sending her flying nearly ten feet through the air, spinning through the air until she slammed into the pavement. Her face impacted the paved street and skidded several inches with her body curling up behind her. The bus managed to slam on it’s brakes and squeal to a halt and the driver was already jumping out of his seat to assess what had happened. Susan stepped up to the door as it hissed open and pointed her pistol at the driver who came to an abrupt halt.
	“Get back in your seat, drive away and forget this happened.” She said with all the venom she could conjure. The adrenaline in her veins made holding the small side arm stead nearly impossible, but she gambled on the sheer sigh of it being intimidating enough. The driver looked from the pistol to Susan and back before slowly retreating to his seat and putting the bus into gear. It rolled away and Susan turned her focus back to the unmoving form of Megan on the ground. Keeping her sidearm trained on her, she approached slowly. As she did she jumped back as a small snap ruptured the quiet night air, punctuated with a flash of sparks spraying from somewhere along Megan’s neck.
	Susan managed to make her way up to Megan and nudged her with the toe of her boot. Megan didn’t respond, though Susan found her eyes to be open wide. Her pupils were pointed inward in a perpetually crossed look, making her look more goofy than menacing. Susan slipped a boot under her shoulder and kicked the robotic assassin over onto her back. Susan now had a full view of the kind of damage that had been done to her rival. Megan had the previous bullet holes in her chest and forehead, and one new one in her shoulder. Each one revealed a kind of chrome metal plating below it. The more obvious damage was to the side of Megan’s face, which had been shredded off. Instead of muscle and tissue below it there was a network of cables and wires, all laced into a similarly chrome metal jaw line.
	Susan’s eyes drifted down to the neck, which she saw had snapped oddly and could see something pressing against the skin from inside of it. There was a small burned hole in the skin as well, which Susan devised was where the sparks had come from. At this point, Susan realized that she had, in some small way, accomplished her intended mission. Megan looked to be offline completely, but Susan wasn’t content to leave such an interesting victim here in the middle of the street. She stepped around Megan and squatted down, threading her arms under Megan’s and began hauling her to the opposite side of the road and into the ditch there. Once she had deposited her prize there, she ran up the street to where she had parked her own car. Soon, Susan was hauling Megan’s inactive body into the back seat of the car and driving away.

	Susan pulled her vehicle into a pull through garage on the side of an old warehouse on the outskirts of the industrial district. Nearly two hours had passed since she had managed to disable Megan and the night had grown dark. The warehouse was		Megan was, first and foremost, an exceptional killer. She had been called things like contract killer and assassin, but she was both more and less than that. She was a tool that received orders and executed on those orders with incredible efficiency. It was a massive amount of work keeping up the image of a sweet and loving wife, an idealistic housekeeper, and moonlighting as the kind of person who took on murder for hire. Somehow, though, she managed to sell the image flawlessly, and to her knowledge no one thought that the woman who was always tending to her garden on the weekends had blood on her hands.

			The evening on this particular late summer evening was wearing on

Natalie Bayer at 04:09, 4 June 2022

2022-06-04T04:09:35Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:09, 4 June 2022
Line 1:		Line 1:
	The late summer evening caused the air, while cooling, to still remain warm. In the idealistic suburban sprawl of homes, was a cozy little house at the end of a street. It was picturesque with a literal white picket fence warding the house against the somewhat more trafficked road on one side. The blue paint wasn’t even chipping and the grass out front was well maintained, vibrantly green, and immaculately trimmed. This was due to Megan and her nearly unstoppable need to keep her home in an immaculate state. To her neighbors she was just Megan, the woman who seemed to have a boundless amount of energy and motivation to keep her household perpetually in a state of perfection. To others, though, she was the last thing they would ever see. Megan was so much more than a suburban housewife, there were many aspects of her existence that no one knew.		The late summer evening caused the air, while cooling, to still remain warm. In the idealistic suburban sprawl of homes, was a cozy little house at the end of a street. It was picturesque with a literal white picket fence warding the house against the somewhat more trafficked road on one side. The blue paint wasn’t even chipping and the grass out front was well maintained, vibrantly green, and immaculately trimmed. This was due to Megan and her nearly unstoppable need to keep her home in an immaculate state. To her neighbors she was just Megan, the woman who seemed to have a boundless amount of energy and motivation to keep her household perpetually in a state of perfection. To others, though, she was the last thing they would ever see. Megan was so much more than a suburban housewife, there were many aspects of her existence that no one knew.
	Megan was, first and foremost, an exceptional killer. She had been called things like contract killer and assassin, but she was both more and less than that. She was a tool that received orders and executed on those orders with incredible efficiency. It was a massive amount of work keeping up the image of a sweet and loving wife, an idealistic housekeeper, and moonlighting as the kind of person who took on murder for hire. Somehow, though, she managed to sell the image flawlessly, and to her knowledge no one thought that the woman who was always tending to her garden on the weekends had blood on her hands.		Megan was, first and foremost, an exceptional killer. She had been called things like contract killer and assassin, but she was both more and less than that. She was a tool that received orders and executed on those orders with incredible efficiency. It was a massive amount of work keeping up the image of a sweet and loving wife, an idealistic housekeeper, and moonlighting as the kind of person who took on murder for hire. Somehow, though, she managed to sell the image flawlessly, and to her knowledge no one thought that the woman who was always tending to her garden on the weekends had blood on her hands.
	The evening on this particular late summer evening was wearing on and Megan’s husband had left town just the day before, leaving Megan alone in the house for nearly a week before he returned. She didn’t mind, not having her husband around meant that she could really spend the time getting the house nice and clean for when he returned. Her evening was going to be spent on her hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor so that it was sparkling clean. She had already tied her long jet black hair up into a high ponytail before she had started her work. The intention was to try and keep her hair out of the way while she scrubbed the flooring, but as she moved and wiggled the hair managed to somehow work its way over her shoulder and onto her incredibly ample chest. Presently, she sat up, her thick legs curled under herself, stretching the light blue denim of her jeans to their absolute limits.		The evening on this particular late summer evening was wearing on and Megan’s husband had left town just the day before, leaving Megan alone in the house for nearly a week before he returned. She didn’t mind, not having her husband around meant that she could really spend the time getting the house nice and clean for when he returned. Her evening was going to be spent on her hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor so that it was sparkling clean. She had already tied her long jet black hair up into a high ponytail before she had started her work. The intention was to try and keep her hair out of the way while she scrubbed the flooring, but as she moved and wiggled the hair managed to somehow work its way over her shoulder and onto her incredibly ample chest. Presently, she sat up, her thick legs curled under herself, stretching the light blue denim of her jeans to their absolute limits.

Natalie Bayer: Created page with " The late summer evening caused the air, while cooling, to still remain warm. In the idealistic suburban sprawl of homes, was a cozy little house at the end of a street. It was picturesque with a literal white picket fence warding the house against the somewhat more trafficked road on one side. The blue paint wasn’t even chipping and the grass out front was well maintained, vibrantly green, and immaculately trimmed. This was due to Megan and her nearly unstoppable n..."

2022-06-04T04:08:59Z

Created page with " The late summer evening caused the air, while cooling, to still remain warm. In the idealistic suburban sprawl of homes, was a cozy little house at the end of a street. It was picturesque with a literal white picket fence warding the house against the somewhat more trafficked road on one side. The blue paint wasn’t even chipping and the grass out front was well maintained, vibrantly green, and immaculately trimmed. This was due to Megan and her nearly unstoppable n..."

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