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| Story: A New Life - Chapter 23 Friday, 19-May-2000 23:05:48
Again, I'd like to take the time to thank everyone for reading and commenting on this project - - that's actually going longer than I had anticipated. But I keep getting new ideas (both my own and from you guys), so the story keeps getting longer - no one's complaining, are they? ;) I just like to do this once and a while to say that I do appreciate everyone who does comment. It helps me to know what I'm doing right, and what I may need to foucs on improving. I'd also like to say welcome to Kate! She's a regular on ZZZ's "GTS Grows" and "Everything Grows" message boards, and an accomplished writer herself. Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy all the stories here! Now, on to the story...... “Andy!!”, Sarah shouted in fear. As the truck slowed down beyond the table, she ran around to the other side of the overturned table ‘Oh please, let him be okay!’, she prayed. They were just beginning to truly express themselves to each other, and she didn’t want to lose him so soon. She knelt down beside the fallen table, her view of the truck blocked by the massive outline of the marble table. She couldn’t see any sign of Andrew – just more polished rubble. “Please, Andrew, tell me you’re okay!”, she shouted out-loud. If he wasn’t - - - she wasn’t sure what she would do. Suddenly a small portion of the rubble began shifting, broken pieces sliding down to the plush green grass of the courthouse’s manicured lawn. Sarah felt her heart practically jump into her throat when she saw a hand feebly moving beneath, its slight struggles sending more small pieces of marble out of the way. She grabbed the hand with both of hers, feeling tears of joy and relief welling up in her eyes. She didn’t care; she was too happy finding out that he was still alive. But for how long? How badly was he hurt? “Andrew, thank God!” She squeezed his hand between hers, and felt another wave of relief as he squeezed – albeit feebly – back. So he had control of his motor skills. “How bad are you hurt?”, she asked, trying to be as clinical as possible. She looked around to see if the commotion had drawn any attention; if so, she could get someone to call for a doctor if needed. Unfortunately, no one had seemed to notice. The only sound she could readily hear was the deep thrumming of the assaulting truck’s engine. Andrew’s voice floated up, subdued by the pile of debris. “Sarah! I – I think I’m okay. The Sarah gave her friend another loving squeeze of his hand. “Don’t worry, Andy. I’ll get you out of there. I - - I know someone who can help us.” She eased her head above the upper edge of the table. The truck was just sitting there, engine running, as if waiting for something. She might not have much time left. After taking a quick look around and not seeing anyone, the journalist began to concentrate. She needed to bring out her Gammonian self - - needed it more now than at any time since her adopted father’s death. ‘All of my power, and I couldn’t help Donald. I’ve carried that guilt within me; it tears away at my soul every day of my life. I felt like I SHOULD have been able to do something to save him.’ She looked down again at the hand her own hands enfolded. ‘Now it’s happening all over again. But this time, I can do something to help someone I love. I WILL do it! I WON’T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!!!’ The anger and remorse over everything she had been thinking over: Donald’s death, her unknown attackers, Andrew’s situation - - it all helped to fuel her efforts to make the transformation. The warmth practically exploded inside her chest, and she let out a small gasp as it began. -- ‘Thank God I’m still alive…..’ That thought echoed through Andrew Peter’s mind as he tried to take stock of his situation. Immediately after warning Sarah about the oncoming truck, it had changed directions slightly and, instead of directly striking the table, it had forcefully clipped it, sending it tumbling over on top of him. He had done the only thing he could think of at the time – he panicked, falling off the marble bench in fear. But that was what had saved him; if he had remained in his seat, he would have been crushed beneath the weight of the large, rounded decorative table. Instead, the heavy polished marble had merely trapped him on his side beneath its mighty shape. Crushed marble dust kept falling in his face, causing him to cough once in a while. But there were shards of light, meaning that air was getting through, and that the possibility of rescue did exist. ‘Sarah!!’ What about his friend?! Did she escape from the truck’s onslaught? Was she even still alive?? The thought of her lying on the grass of the courthouse’s lawn, the life seeping out of her body, almost drove him to the point of hopelessness. If she were dead, what did it matter if he got out of this prison? His primary reason for living would have been taken away, stolen from his grasp just when he had made the most important decision of his life. If Sarah Carter couldn’t be a part of his life, then he didn’t want to live. ‘Get off it, man! You need to concentrate on finding out what happened to her, not to wallow in self-misery over an outcome that only might have happened.’ That bit of harsh but useful self-examination galvanized the journalist into action. Even though he was pinned in place by sections of the bench that had cracked from the sheer weight of all the marble being displaced inches above him, Andrew did have the freedom of one arm. He carefully reached somewhat behind him and began probing around the pile of broken white marble. Within seconds, he found a weak spot; he pushed and shifted pieces of the table in his quest of discovery. Suddenly his fingers broke free from the pile, and he shoved his hand out of the rubble and into the clean air outside. Then he heard a voice – a voice that he had been fearing he would never hear again. “Andrew, thank God!”, it shouted. Sarah! She was all right!! She asked him if he was hurt, and he responded (with a few coughs thrown in from the thick marble dust) that he was indeed okay. He felt her hands envelope and squeeze his free one, and he squeezed back, though it was subdued by the position he was in, reaching halfway behind his back. How he wanted to look into her beautiful blue-gray eyes, to caress her face, to feel the soft, warm shapes of her lips pressing against his own. All thoughts of gloom and depression had instantly vanished with just the touch of her hands. This prison would not turn into his tomb. He WOULD get out of here somehow! He heard her speak again. “I - - I know of someone who can help us.” He blinked rapidly as a bit more dust fell into his brown eyes. Her words, though somewhat cryptic, brought forth an image into his mind: Jane. She was the only one he knew of that could help himself and Sarah right now. But how could she find her in such short notice? Did she know how to contact her? Could she be there already? He was about to gather the strength to ask her just those questions when he noticed something - - something that was happening outside his prison. Sarah had suddenly let go of his hand for some reason, and he feared that she wasn’t as healthy as she had told him. Was she truly hurt? Then her hands gently surround his again - - or were they hers? They didn’t feel right somehow….. Like a jolt of electricity had struck him, Andrew recognized exactly why they didn’t feel like Sarah’s: they weren’t! These hands were larger and stronger than his friend’s were – and they seemed to be getting larger! -- Sarah temporarily let go of Andrew’s hand as she felt the Gammonian within beginning to come forth to reshape her body into its likeness. As her skin began taking on a light-green hue, the journalist took another look around. Her green eyes still not spotting anyone about, she turned her attention back to the pile of marble. Her business-style outfit was definitely getting tight; moving her feet against each other, Sarah pushed the constricting high-heeled shoes from their swelling forms. But there was nothing to do about the rest of her clothing. The truck was still sitting idle on the far side of the small park area; its occupants would probably spot any large movements on her part and come back to finish the job – if they truly wanted to kill her. That would be something to discover when her transformation was finished - - as soon as she rescued Andrew. The sleeves of her blouse had grown to almost skin-tight as her arms grew longer and thicker with curved feminine muscle and sinew. The buttons on their ends burst free from their places a good three inches above her wrists. Widening gashes then began opening up where those buttons had rested before, her sleeves completely unable to contain Sarah’s lengthening green arms. The hose encasing her legs and feet also commenced to rip apart, the largest headway being made around her toes, heels, and calves. Sarah let out several soft grunts and groans; although this bodily alteration wasn’t terribly painful (which was surprising, since her body was being physically reshaped and added to), it was still enough of a discomfort that she was unable to remain silent while it proceeded. Her growing legs continued their relentless assault on the overstretched hose; the last shreds around her expanding green feet came apart, and she felt the upper parts of her hose begin to tear down her thighs underneath her tautening black skirt. Sarah lifted her growing hands and again held Andrew’s free one, noticing how much smaller it seemed – and how it felt smaller by the second as her own strong green hands swelled around it. The sounds of fabric tearing and seams splitting were becoming more and more frequent as her natural body subdued its human disguise, taking her clothing with it. The seams of her skirt were shredding higher and higher up her curved and sensuously muscled thighs as they expanded. Her blouse, too, was coming apart under the strain of covering her upper body. Her breasts and chest were pushing the blouse’s buttoned front past its endurance; those small white buttons began to almost literally explode from her shirt, revealing more and more shiny black material. A split quickly opened up in the blouse’s rear, also displaying the alien fabric of her altered Gammonian outfit. The last remains of her ruined sleeves fell from her long and well-built arms, completely baring their tight green-skinned forms. She shook her head to free her eyes from some of the thicker, dark-green strands of her hair as it changed, as well, no trace of its dark-blonde color remaining in its tussled and curled appearance. Her skirt had just about given up any hope of remaining around her widening hips by this point. Its seams were still ripping apart, and they continued to do so all the way up to the garment’s stretched-out waistband. Sarah’s long, muscled, curved green legs were partially curled up beneath and to the side of the rest of her growing body as she lied on the ground, holding Andrew’s hand. Her large feet slowly slid farther away from her torso as those legs kept up their enlargement. She felt the remainder of her blouse give up the ghost and just hang limply around her widening bare green shoulders. The skirt’s waistband was really laboring to encompass Sarah’s broad, curved hips, it’s tatters crawling further up her emerald thighs. Then, with one last surge of growth, her transformation was finished. Sarah let out a breath of relief at its ending. The change wasn’t exactly something she relished, as it was uncomfortable (not to mention hard on her outfits); but she was glad that she could regain her Gammonian form when she needed it - - and this was definitely one of those times. Sarah released Andrew’s hand. She quickly tore off the rags of her outfit and gripped the rounded edge of the portion of the fallen marble table closest to the ground, and began to lift……. Andrew wasn’t sure what to think. The hands that held his free hand definitely felt feminine, but they weren’t Sarah’s. Every second they seemed to grow, their fingers stretching and curling farther around his hand and wrist, their warm palms widening to greater diameters than his own. He thought that he could pick up something like fabric tearing, but he couldn’t be sure, as sounds from outside his prison were muted. After another twenty seconds the hands appeared to cease their enlargement. They suddenly released their soft grip, and Andrew briefly wondered what was happening. The polished marble table shifting in its place overhead immediately answered his unspoken question. More dust fell into his face, and he gave out another round of coughing in response. The imposing block of stone was definitely moving upwards, a rapidly widening crack of light appearing above his head. He caught sight of green hands and arms holding the table, and then the table was lifted completely off the ground. He closed his eyes as the golden rays of sunlight shown directly in their brown forms. He heard a “whuff” of wind above him, and then a solid crash of broken stone some distance away. He opened his eyes to slits…. “Anthony, are you okay?”, a husky female voice asked in worried tones. Jane was hunched down directly above him, her sexily muscled, firm green body gleaming in the sun’s rays. Her strong, beautiful face held a look of genuine concern as her green eyes looked into his brown ones. “J – Jane?”, he croaked. Of course. That’s who had been holding his hand! He turned his head from side to side. “Where’s Sarah?” Her expression seemed to shift a little, but she regained her composure almost before he noticed any difference. “She’s gone to get some help.”, she told him. “Now stay here. I’ve got some questions to ask the driver of that truck.” He turned his head towards the entrance of the courthouse’s small park to look for his friends, and he caught a quick glimpse of Jane’s large and curved bare green foot go by as she went off to carry out her mission. He shifted a little in place, propping his head up on an arm and looked around his immediate area. The partially crushed bench that had saved his life was there, but something nearby caught his attention, and he focused upon it. There, by the near legs of that solid bench was a small pile of fabric - - and a pair of intact black pumps. Andrew reached out and picked up one of those shoes, plus some of the fabric. He looked them over, his brow wrinkling in thought. ‘Aren’t these the shoes Sarah was wearing?’ They looked much like them, but he could be mistaken. Still, what would they be doing out here? And then there was the shredded fabric in his other hand. It appeared to have been a blouse at one point, though it was now no more than rags. ‘And I think she was wearing something like this, too…..’ His mind was taken away from these slightly disturbing thoughts by the sound of a massive crash coming from behind him. He quickly rolled over and witnessed Jane’s “questioning” techniques…… Sarah left Andrew behind, feeling her anger quickly returning, focused completely upon the truck and it’s occupants. Her long legs carried her ever closer towards the truck. She picked up on the fact that the GMC had a large portion of its left front section smashed in from the contact with the tough marble table. ‘That might explain why it’s still sitting there. The driver may have bitten off more than he could chew - - and now he’s going to reap the consequences.’ The driver had much to answer for, and Sarah was determined that she was going to find out everything they knew…..or else. She approached the driver’s side of the damaged truck. She caught a glimpse of the driver’s face; it was drawn back in an expression of terror (most probably from the sight of a large, immensely strong, green woman coming towards him). Sarah stopped beside the truck and punched her fist directly into the door’s frame. It actually passed all the way through and into the truck’s interior. The driver jumped and moved over on his bench seat at the sudden appearance of a large green fist near his seat. Sarah lifted upwards on the door with her imbedded arm, while simultaneously pulling it back towards herself. The door’s hinges gave out a token groan of complaint before it gave way. The green-skinned superwoman threw the door behind her and reached out for the terrified driver. She got a hold of his leg and effortlessly tugged him out of the truck. Sarah lifted him up by his leg so that his upside-down face was level with her own, grinning viscously at his obvious signs of severe distress. “Okay, buddy. You have a lot to answer for. It’s bad enough that you target my friend Sarah Carter, but you had the misfortune to completely miss her and almost kill my other friend Andrew over there.” She brought his face even closer to hers, so that their noses almost touched. “Now, you are going to tell me who hired you to commit this act,”, she huskily whispered, “or the police won’t find enough left to identify you.” She saw his eyes dart to his destroyed door, and then over to the smashed marble table, and then fearfully back to her rich green eyes. “Okay! Okay! I’ll do it! Just – Just don’t hurt me! It was Harris. He hired me to kill that Carter woman! But I didn’t mean to hurt that guy - - honest! Believe me!” She narrowed her eyes in thought, still holding her captive in a precarious (for him) position. Michael Harris. That name kept appearing. Something was not right here. “Did you actually talk to him in person?”, she asked the driver. He shook his head vigorously. “No, no. He called me on the phone and set it all up.” Sarah really wanted to follow up on this lead, but she was unable to right now. Mr. Harris was in court today, and she wouldn’t have a chance to question him again until it was over for the day. But she would question him – that was for sure. She wanted to know once and for all what was going on here….and she wouldn’t tolerate any more lies. She unceremoniously dumped the driver onto the ground, and he scrambled to his feet. However, he found his escape routes blocked by the green-hued Amazon. “You see that courthouse behind you?”, she asked him. He nodded, unable to speak, looking at the sheer power and strength of the woman’s body. “You will walk your butt into that courthouse and turn yourself in for attempted murder. If you don’t, there will be a death - - yours. I’ll just call it self-defense.” She winked at him, and he thought that he was going to lose control over his bowels. “Now move!” He turned around and ran towards the massive courthouse. ‘I’m glad he was easily intimidated. There is no way that I’m going to kill again.’ Satisfied by that, but still somewhat troubled over the entire situation, Sarah turned on her heel and walked back to where Andrew sat. Just the sight of him made her feel happy, and she scooped him off the ground. “I haven’t properly thanked you for being alive.”, she said, smiling. She bent down and pressed her thick, dark-green lips against Andrew’s, and she melted into the kiss. Andrew did, as well. He was giving this up for Sarah? But, as he had told her, there was more to this relationship than just the physical aspect. He broke free from her kiss and looked her in the eye. “Jane - - I – I have something to tell you. I….don’t really know how to say this. I love Sarah. I - - want to spend the rest of my life with her. I care for you, too, Jane, and I want to remain your friend. But Sarah is something special. Please forgive me, I don’t mean to hurt you, but I’m afraid that I will, no matter what I say.” He watched her expression shift into one that looked somehow – familiar. “I understand, Andrew. Here, let me show you something.” She closed her eyes, and a look of concentration fell upon her gorgeous green face. All of a sudden she began to change. Her body began to shrink, her form gradually losing its musculature and sheer size. Her hair was retreating up her back and shoulders, lightening up as it did so. Andrew could only watch in fascination and wonderment as Jane grew smaller and smaller, her skin losing its rich green tint, becoming lighter as she became smaller. The shiny fabric of her outfit continued to cling to her body as it lost curves and muscles, her arms and legs also shrinking. Then it seemed to stop, and Sarah Carter looked up through some strands of unruly dark-blonde hair into his eyes. Andrew was absolutely stunned. His jaw worked, but he couldn’t make any sounds come forth. He finally did find his voice. “You – You mean…..all this time…..you were - - - her?? You and – and Jane are – the same?” His eyes suddenly widened even further as realization dawned. “Oh no…..Oh, God. I - I told Jane that I loved her, but she’s you! Oh, Sarah, I don’t know - - - I’m so sorry! I – I don’t know what to say!” Sarah pressed a finger up to his lips, stopping his rushed but heartfelt apology. “Then don’t say anything.”, she whispered. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again. She felt him relax, hesitantly at first, and then more so as the kiss ate away at his feelings of horror and remorse. They parted, and Andrew gazed lovingly down into his friend’s face. “When you have some time, c – could you please explain all of this to me? If I’m going to go out with you exclusively, I want to make sure that you don’t have any other secrets that I should know about…...” To be continued Terry |
| Story: A New Life - Chapter 23 (Terry) (19-May-2000 23:05:48) |
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