Chapter 3: Violet

I came back into the world just as some gorilla called Flint was about to belt me one. It was odd. Since the change had finished, I had been sleeping or something. Though I was aware of what had been happening to the other Tom Rivers, who had been running my body since the change, he seemed oddly unaware of me. He was a whiney bastard, moaning and crying all the time. Frankly, it disgusted me a bit. I had always thought myself fairly strong, and to see this alternate weepy version of myself was sickening.

He seemed completely blind to the fact that we were now a smoking hot babe, the sort people would do anything for. Maybe I was a glass half full kind of girl, to his glass half empty, but it seemed to me that as a bloke I had been ignored and bullied. I had seen over the years, how the pretty girls got what they wanted. Now that I was in the driving seat, things were going to change. I was going to take full advantage of my amazing new figure and all my dreams would come true. MORFS might have done a right number on our body, and seemingly, our mind too, but every problem is just an opportunity in disguise as they say. I was going to take full advantage of the good, and leave the bad.

But first things first, the aforementioned gorilla. In some ways, I should be thanking him. He showed me the way out of my cage. I was so angry at the idiot's lack of action, I some how broke free and took control. I figured a knee to the crotch would floor him, or maybe a creative use of these new nails.

I was just contemplating what to do, when his fist impacted my face. I was knocked off my feet and there was a crunch of breaking bone, but oddly, I felt nothing. When I turned to look up from the floor, Flint was standing there, cradling his hand with a look of shock and pain on his face. He looked down at me with a look of disbelief and rage.

I tried to get up, but one of the thugs who had been boxing us in, ran up and pushed me down again. He gave me a kick to the ribs. Again I felt nothing, but he cried out in pain and went hopping around like he'd just stubbed his toe on something hard. 'What on earth is going on, ' I wondered.

I was wrenched to my feet by another thug and thrown against the wall then struck a few times in the chest. The rest of the gang stood round me, jeering and egging on the guy hitting me. I was beginning to get a little tired of being the punching bag, even if it didn't seem to be doing me any harm.

I saw the next blow coming and dodged to the side, the world seemed to briefly slow. I shoved my assailant with both hands to knock him over. I didn't think I pushed him very hard, but he went flying. He tumbled end over end, knocking one of his friends down as he went. They both scrambled to their feet and came at me, more cautious now. I backed away as they circled me, trying to back me into a corner.

I decided to go on the offensive and threw a fist at one of them with all my might. I missed him, but it is probably just as well, as my hand went clean through the wall where his head has been moments before, bricks and plaster just crushing like Styrofoam. I had felt a burst of energy flow through me as I threw the punch, seemingly amplifying my strength greatly. I extracted my hand from the wall, taking a few chunks of masonry with it. I stared at the hole I had left behind, in a state of shock.

A second or two later the other of the two thugs shoulder barged me, knocking me flying face first straight into some lockers. As I was falling, I instinctively flailed about to catch myself. My hand latched onto the door of one locker, which I gripped as hard as I could. My fingers crushed the metal like it was tin foil and the door tore off in my hand. I hit the lockers with an almighty clang, leaving a dent, but I seemed to have suffered no damage bar the odd rip to my shirt.

The guy who tackled me and his partner began stomping on my back, trying to do me any damage, but again failing. I tried to get up, but one of them held me down by jumping with both feet on my spine. I pushed down, not using much strength, but still managing to catapult me and the guy standing on me up into the air by a meter or so. His head impacted the ceiling, which luckily for him was one of those false suspended ceilings. The gap and the false covering absorbed most of the impact. It still dazed him a bit, so he crumpled to floor on landing.

I got to my feet and decided to show these bastards just who they were dealing with. Through some mechanism I had yet to understand, I was tough, strong, with maybe improved reflexes judging by my dodging ability. After all the years of bullying, the times these bastards had hurt and humiliated me, finally I was going to be able to stand up to them. No one was going to fuck with me ever again.

I picked up the door I had inadvertently pulled off the locker and held it in front of me. I let out a guttural yell, which wasn't quite so impressive as I had hoped in my new voice, and tore the door in half, tossing the pieces to the floor in front of them. I had once again felt an odd surge of power as I tore the metal apart.

They took one look at the torn bits of metal and legged it past their friends who were looking more uncertain now.

They still had numbers on their side though. Flint, who seemed to have recovered, shouted, "Get the freak!"

They all rushed at me as a group, knocking me back into the lockers as they pummelled me from all sides. It didn't do them much good, I might as well have been made of steel. I braced myself against the lockers behind me and pushed back at the group attacking me, spreading my arms wide. They went flying, tumbling like rag dolls to the floor.