How hard was she shaking? Perhaps enough to manifest herself as an earthquake. A quake within the earth. And what was this feeling, deep within her? Something had changed, and it was so evident, so strong. That smell, a musty sort, the sweat of a runner but with something sweet mixed in… it was as vinegar. And her skin…it felt different. Something was washing over her, a sort of living liquid that was, in some way, solid, like a slug running over her arms and her legs and her face.

She could feel the ivy covering her, could feel that strong, hot vapor rising from the vines. And with each second that passed, she enjoyed the feeling immensely. Her body was changing. And not mere change to a useless level, either. Improving. She was improving. She did not know how she knew, but it was a natural knowledge that came to her as a matter of fact, no mere speculation. The air itself seemed to give her knowledge.

But, as with much knowledge, there also came pain, and with pain, there came a change of perspective. Must the pain be endured, for the sake of the world? Well, perhaps for the sake of her world.

"I…truly hate them…you know…" she whispered to the plants that caressed against her shoulders. She held them close. "Since as far back as I can remember…"

They had always laughed at her. Laughed at her because of her obsession, as they called it. "Plant this and flowers that. Get a life, Pamela, seriously." That had been the nice version. But what had they known? Had they not known about the effects that their squandering of resources could be bring about? How their negligence could cause the world to prune away before them?

"I wish I could kill…do you know? I'm in this hole in the world, stinking and rotting away, most likely…and men like Woodrue continue to breath, reaping nature of its wonders and polluting its purpose…" She smiled as she acknowledged that she was speaking more fluidly now, more stable in nature. Living? If this was life, it was very contained. And if this was death…well, she could "live" with it, if it meant being swarmed over with her children. The plants belonged to her. She had defended them all her life, since childhood, even!

"Hey, what are you doing!?" Yes, she had screamed the demand to know at the gang of useless boys attending her private school. They had gathered around, stamping down upon a patch of fresh lilies, chortling in the desire for their destructive ways. And she had attacked them. Punched at them and scratched them. They had tried to fight her off but her defense for Nature was far superior to their physical retaliations. Nature had to be defended…at all costs. "I WILL KILL YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME!? KILL YOU!" Of course, making these sorts of threats, especially at such a young age…admittedly, it had been stupid. She had been stupid, and this too was fact.

Had been stupid enough to trust Woodrue, anyway that it went…

"So, what are you doing to me, eh?" she asked the plants softly, speaking with as much tenderness as she could, so as not to disturb the sleep that they were attempting to have as they snuggled into her, as they entwined with her. "Tell me, children…I'll keep it between us…or perhaps I won't…if it's a weapon…"

She thought of the possibilities. She could not see above her, but she could feel the wreckage caught within a thick brush of vines and knew that it was only because the blockage swept away light above… but surely she could not be that deep… Foolishly, she raised an ivy wrapped arm up, trying to brush the bottom of the crashed desk and the vines…

And the strangest feeling as well. Something following her arm as she raised it. She paused her reach where it rose, feeling with her other hand to touch that which followed her reach. It was the vines that lay beside her. It shivered at her touch, but somehow, the gesture was in such a way that it suggested a shiver of excitement to be touched by its "goddess". It had followed her reach.

Excitement like an implosion of happiness, equal to that of a small child receiving the greatest of toys. It was so attached to her… she waved her hand left and right, and, with that same joy rising inside of her heart, she felt it in the darkness, swaying with her, mimicking her movements…

"You want to dance with mommy? Is that what you want to do? So, tell me your secrets…why do you follow me?"

It hissed, the smallest noise of elation, a tiny squeak of a child-like plant… and she loved it!

"It's because you are within my grasp, aren't you?"

"The external pods seem have a hive center, filled with a pollen that sends out a command to plants with the same exterior…in a way, it's an Alpha…"

Of course, her research. The pods of the South American Rionan flower. It had growths on the stem that did produce a pheromone, so to speak. An enticement among the buds, those plants connected from the first spring of root… these same pheromones existed within the plants that-

"-were on the table when he did this to me," she whispered. She brought her wrist to her mouth and ran her tongue along her skin. Yes, there it was! She knew the taste, had sampled it for months to test its toxicity and effects on human bodies through oral introduction. The pheromones were non-lethal in small doses, but to mass it…to mass it would have negative effects. At least, on the ten different types of animals that she had tested it on. Three of them, those being a sparrow, a tree frog, and a rattlesnake had produced similar reactions: uncontrollable startle reflex, sporadic movements that induced re-occurent catatonia. But the reactions were individually based. Every animal had endured a psychological trauma, and every one of them had had to be put down. But for science' sake…for science' sake it meant everything. Her biggest desire was, of course, the ultimate question: just how did a human react to the pheromones? Had she not been able to powder the substance, after months of extensive research? Yes…

The pheromones…perhaps they were still safely locked away in the vault, hidden inside of her lab? But then, what was this…this was definitely the taste, and that smell…that was the sweet smell. It was coming off of her! That was what caused the plant to sway the way that it did, in its quest to follow its mistress…

"Am I…am I producing that pheromone? But how…?"

She closed her eyes, concentrating all her might upon the interior workings of her new body. There was a gift, hidden deep within, and she simply must find it…

"What else have you done to me?" she whispered. Her skin felt different. She moved her palm up and down her forearm, feeling the texture. There was something distinct about the fell. Hard and yet soft. A sort of…chloroplast? "Oh, my… this is…something."

She felt her heels run together as elation swelled up within. Her skin felt like something plant-like. Like stems. A chemical mixture of exterior tissue and chloroplast…chlorophyll!? Yes…it had to be chlorophyll, she knew that feel… she squeezed her legs together. There was a sudden rush of heat within her. It was the kind of heat one experienced when aroused. But this was a different kind of arousal. It came not from any sexual implications, but rather an acknowledgment of self. She was the product of an extreme case of human meta-crisis, and she could explain little… but then, if her skin had been overlayed with a form of chloroplastic shell, and she was producing those pheromones from her pores…what about the pain that she had experienced? What about the bubbling of acidic properties? She had felt it, swelling inside of her, a kind of hot pain that resonated a signal to her nerves. And in particular, a bubbling focus concentrated somewhere around her face.

She lightly tapped her fingers upon her cheeks, feeling the chlorophyll that had made home there. She brushed her index along her forehead, and her nose, then traced it down. Right down to her lips. Her lips… She poked her upper lip lightly, and felt something new there. A thick coat of some kind of jelly-like substance. She pressed against her bottom lip and felt for the same. Yes, there it was. It appeared that the substance had been concentrated in patches about her framework, as she felt groupings of the jelly-like substance about her neck and thighs, but none so much concentrated as her lips.

What was this? She pressed into her lips firmly enough to actually scrape a small bit of the protruding substance, and brought it to nose. Hemolyptic toxin! She knew that smell anywhere. It was the smell of the poison concealed within the fangs of vipers and pit vipers, rattlesnake's glorified morbidly with this touch of defense. Officially, hemotoxin had the potential to kill off red blood cells, causing organ destruction. The process by which hemotoxin could kill a human being, especially average sized, could be slow compared to more potent poisons, which was fine for snakebite victims as long as the bite wound could be treated fairly quickly. Having worked with various vipers and rattlesnakes in the last seven years of her stationing here in South America by Wayne Enterprises, she had collected countless samples of snake venom, and knew them all by sight and smell. And of course, Woodrue had made a lifestyle of borrowing said samples for his own work in his own lab, apparently in pursuit of the creation of Venom, that formula that had turned Antonio Diego into that monster…

With all of this in mind, she wondered as to how the snake venom could be establishing itself upon her body like this, and how she could withstand it. Why had a hemotoxin coated her lips? She felt mad by the very question. An experiment within a deep cage…just another monster with Jason Woodrue's name upon it…?

She gently stroked the poison glistening upon her lips. Hemotoxin… the animal plant toxins…of course! She had succeeded, had she not, to some extent, in her work to not only immunize and correlate natural creation of hemotoxin within her plant specimens, but also re-write their biological processes to utilize such a weapon? And these formulas had been used to kill her…

So, then, this was the answer. The riddle given reason. The animal plant toxins had indeed effected her in a severe way! Was it possible that the hemotoxin was actually being produced from her lips? And the other skin spots where she had felt its place? And the chlorophyll… those chemicals had created a bonding process with her very own anatomy, and the change was exactly what was being presented here, in the dark: that she herself had become, to some extent, a plant. A plant woman. And not just any plant woman… a poisonous plant woman?

"You have got to be kidding me…" she laughed. Laughter came so strangely for a situation like this and yet it was all that she could think to do in this moment. The funniest thought ran across her mind. She saw herself rising from the grave, dressed in this raggedy outfit of hers that she had torn strips from with her bare hands, adorned in precious ivy as she emitted pheromones from her body… and she could see Jason Woodrue, standing there, his jaw hanging open and he looked upon her, speechless. And, of course, the man had desired her to the point of where he had had to make moves upon her, force himself upon her, even, without her consent…without her desire…and to kill her, no less, for her refusal… and what joy would it fill her heart with, if, in his memorization, she leaned forward and granted him his wish: a kiss. A fock, even, but involvement of the lips nonetheless. Her lips had been coated with this poison for a reason. Surely they had. And the reason was all too clear: it's not nice to fool with Mother Nature. And this was Nature's gift: weapons to use against Woodrue, to bring down the man who had killed her, and corrupted Nature's rise to power for the sake of animalizing man more than he already was! Oh, the thought of Jason's lifeless, poisoned corpse… it made fire tingle within her.

She closed her eyes in satisfaction as she imagined the murderous deed. Could she do it? Could she escape this grave and take his life, as he had taken hers? It was only fitting. A debt to be paid, which must simply be paid, and if not…if not, all would fall apart for her. Because Woodrue's death was all that mattered at the moment. She had the pheromones of the Rionan plant, and lips glistening with hemotoxin, just waiting to administered to the fool unfortunate enough to desire a kiss from her. And Jason Woodrue would surely desire a kiss from the woman he had tried to force himself on to begin with.

"Oh, Jason…your death is coming. So soon, just wait…I am going to be free of this grave, and when I am…when I am, Jason, I want you to understand the concept of "love hurts"… of course, in my case, it's going to do more than hurt. It's going to practically kill you."

She giggled to herself as she thought the evil thought. It was a sexual pleasure all on its own, the thought of stealing the man's life away, watching him die before her, seeing him fall to her feet, where he so rightfully belonged, to be trampled upon by her reborn body as she saw fit! She stroked the ivy around her body with one hand, and her poisonous lips with the other.

"Hello, Jason…I think I've had a change of heart…" she began to rehearse. A rehearsal now, for a murder later.

And somewhere above the grave whose occupant fantasized of the killing to come, Jason Woodrue exclaimed excitedly, somewhere beyond Pamela Isley's lab.

"Ah, so the self-proclaimed "Supreme Ruthlessness" wins the bidding. That's great news. Tophy, let's get down to business. He'll be calling soon and I want to have information for the man, my friend, information! My new life is about to begin!"

No, Jason…your life was about to end.