MARY SUE MEETS THE RAPIST!
PART TWO
Kalya has found the perfect lover in Jak but can it last?
The story on this page is a parody that contains implied rape.
Disclaimer: I own nobody.
"It's a brand new day," shouted Kylana cheerily for she enjoyed shouting the obvious.
Sheets of hammered gold sunlight skimmed through the gaps in the curtains. Jak and Kalya were snuggled together, cocooned in heat on a bunk under Kylana. Jak yawned widely and swayed off to have a shower. Kalya slid under the bed covers with a weary moan.
"Jak?" she called out sleepily. Her gluey eyelid was prised open. There was no sign of her friend within the sun-soaked surroundings. "He's washing," Kylana's voice boomed from above. Kalya sighed, brushed her velveteen hair from her face and slipped into her clothes.
Half an hour later
They were destined to meet Krew. Kalya was aiding Kylana drive the zoomer, even so Kylana had already caused three spectacular crashes and brought Jak's stomach to an early death.
"Ugh, this place smells like sweaty men who wash in beer." These were Kalya's first, disgust-twisted words on entering the hip hog. Jak and Kylana laughed good-naturedly. Krew swerved his meaty blubber over to greet his guests.
"Ah, I see Torn has delivered my new mistress to me." He looked wantonly at Kalya. She promptly lost conscientiousness at the exposure to those drool lubricated lips that had seen too many calories.
"Kalya?" Kylana's masculine, blemished and uglier than shit features came into view. At least they were familiar.
"Thank goodness you are not dead." Her flour sack cheeks lifted into a smile that only made her eaten eyes harder to detect.
"We completed the mission," said Jak coming over and filling the room from floor to ceiling with his badassedness. He helped Kalya to her delicate, callous-free feet.
"What was the mission?" she asked out of sweet, sincere altruism of course.
"We had to give Krew a massage," the oh-so-full-of-attitude response went.
"I was so worried about you Kalya, you're my best friend," Kylana said. Her bottom lip trembled with emotion.
"Where did you two meet?" Jak suddenly asked.
"Oh, on an internet chat room," Kalya replied casually.
They walked through the boring streets of Haven for a while, waiting for something to happen.
"What's that?" Kylana suddenly screamed in black horror. Her hand was stretched to the sky and her deadly B.O. was making everyone gag.
They looked up and, to their amazement (!) saw a giant hand close around the sun and with a cry of "Oh hot!" drag it behind view. The hand returned, placing a moon in the gap left by the sun. The sky changed to gossamer black and star flecked, corresponding with the change of sky furniture.
"Wow what was that?" was the thought fuelling the words on everyone's tongue.
"I think," Kalya began, tapping her lip with her finger, "That the writer is trying to fill a plot hole and so made it night because that's the only time anything can happen."
"Oh. Okay then." Linking arms they walked, carefree, back to the underground.
"Want to play chasing Jak?" Kalya asked. Her eyes shone richly with excitement.
"No thanks I'm just going to bed. You two have fun."
An hour later
Thump, thump. Giggle, giggle. Thump, thump. The footsteps of Kalya and Kylana hammered on the wooden floor like the random bashing of some giant drum. Everyone's ears within a mile radius were vibrating.
"Kylana!" Kalya squealed breathlessly. She had just chased Kylana into a room. t was blank of activity and besides the entrance contained only locked sturdy doors. Kalya had seen Kylana's shadow in the frosty light of the entrance to the room.
"Kylana?" Kalya called out again. She edged unsurely back to the door she came in. A beautiful aroma undulated through her nostrils. On the floor, primly quartered on a paper plate was a sandwich. A toasted sandwich.
An oozing, tangy avalanche of cheese poked out from the padded duvet of bread. Flavoursome, fluffy stuffing was piled underneath which would provide the most delicate resistance for her piercing teeth. Swollen sun dried tomatoes like wrinkled hearts were tucked into in the layers of tasty insulation, ready to leak their sour brilliance when pressed.
She crept toward this treasure deposited so carelessly on the floor. Her mind swirled with only the most murderous and destructive thoughts regarding the sandwich.
Kalya heard cautious footsteps behind her, someone with a heavy frame weighing down the dry, dead wood. She wheeled and her heart rate accelerated considerably.
The man before her was masked and clothed in black, a light-devouring shadow standing out on a powdery white background. Her throat felt glazed.
Vocal cords were strung, lungs inflated, she was ready to scream. Yet staring was all she could do. The man scratched and dug at his dandruff-inhabited head causing some flakes to spring free.
He held a steel knife at his side rubbing a sweaty thumb up and down the flat side of the blade. The surface reflected glacial light into her pupils.
She ran past him. A back arm sprung out like a trap, catching her in the stomach. Her kneecaps dented themselves on the ground and a charge of pain flushed through her legs. Oh, poor woeful Kalya. If only she had read page 3450.45 of her Mary Sue manual which clearly states that all powers fail when faced with a rapist.
The man gripped her arms, pulling the skin into sparse ridges. Squeezing her wrists together he wrapped tight sticky tape around them, ripping up several hairs from the surface of her skin. He moved to her ankles, binding them in the plastic that gave off an abrasive chemical smell.
Screams tore the air from some room.
"Wow, they must be having fun," thought Jak before switching off his lamp.
Next day
"Tornn! Where's my Coco pops? Jak whined.
"Coco pops are too sweet," Torn explained. "They can give you a sugar high which induces bad fiction in three out of five cases."
Kalya walked surreptitiously into the kitchen.
"Morning Kalya," greeted Jak. She looked at him for a second as though eyeing up a dinner she hated eating. Her face was haggard and lime-white with inflamed red skin ringing each eye. She took a dry slice of bread and left without a word.
That night
Jak's snores petrified every creature and even woodlice fled rather than face the mercy of his hellish breath. For this reason he was alone and fast asleep because it was night time (again). A slithery blob of purple phlegm glided up and down his throat with each exhale.
"Jak! Jak!" Kalya screamed desperately, awaking from a nightmare. She bounded out of bed and down the draughty corridor to Jak's room.
"What? What?" he murmured. He was, understandably, a trace dismayed at being interrupted from his favourite dream. In which, Daxter was so ugly that Jak had to murder him.
The mattress gave a beastly groan with Kalya pressing her dainty, six-stone body on it. "Em, I have to talk to you about something," she whispered, lucid fear in her voice.
Immediately Jak sat up and his joints cracked in lethargic protest.
"No, it's not that," Kalya stressed with a speck of impatience. She then proceeded to tell him the most heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, world-stopping, original and interesting story Jak's ears had ever been graced with.
"Wow!" he exclaimed, orb-eyed at the end. "That is the best fan fiction about yourself I have ever heard."
"It's not fan fiction you idiot, it happened to me!" Kalya shrieked, teeth bared.
Those tearing words roared in Jak's heart. The agonising angst multiplied within his skull. He enveloped Kalya in a crushing embrace, sobbing and hosing her down with enough saltwater to fill a sea.
Two minutes later
Kylana burst through the door, panting and glucose-energetic even though it was three in the morning. "Kal-ya," she shouted in a singsong voice. "Wanna play chas-," she stopped mid sentence feeling the TIGHT TENSION and UNADULTERATED ANGST perfuming the room.
Kalya made no reply only nuzzled herself deeper into the folds of Jak's tunic. Jak turned to Kylana and told her the ordeal.
Her mouth dangled open at the end. She edged over to the slumped figure of Kalya and placed a tentative hand on her arm. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. With her other hand she scratched vigorously at her scalp sending shreds of skin dancing over her shoulder.
Kalya's eyes narrowed. "That scratch rings a bell," she thought. The claw of realization clasped her brain in an instant.
The curtains of false understanding retracted along with Kylana's arm when she realised that something was amiss. Kalya now stared furiously at her through raging eyes.
Jak watched this change of expressions with confusion. He searched Kylana's pustule-dotted, podgy, hairy lips for a clue. "Wait a minute! Kylana didn't just look like a man. She was a man!
And she/he was backing away now with two sets of vexed eyes burning into her/his face. She/he stopped her/his retreat in the middle of the room. Her/his arms rose mystically into the air and she/he pressed her/his palms together slowly above her/his head.
"Habija, habija, moo baa oink! She/he roared in a thunderous voice. Smoky threads of dust coiled upward from all corners of the room. They accumulated to form the shimmering shape of a pistol which Kylana plucked from the air with a smile.
It all happened then in a flash. The snapping shot, Kalya's scream of pain, her back hitting the floor. Jak dropped to his knees beside her. Her hand was covering a wound in her chest. Blackish blood sank into her top releasing a smell that was sterile and metallic.
Her dark cocoa eyes met Jak's. Moonlight anointed her hair with a pearly sheen. "Get him Jak," she whispered feebly. Warm fluid bubbled beneath her fingers with each painful breath. Behind Jak came a click.
Kylana was trying to fire another bullet. The gun fell apart in her/his hand, floating back to the floor. Expletives hatched forth from her/his mouth and out the door she/he went.
"You won't get far, you pervert!" yelled Jak hurtling after him/her.
Ten minutes later
Kylana's back was facing the sea. Jak was now strolling over to the cornered rapist. Branches of purple energy flashed in his limbs.
"Hey!" Kylana gasped trying to squeeze a word through her/his rapid panting. "Don't be too em hasty, I mean, you might regret it." She/he rubbed at the glittering veil of sweat of her forehead. Jak continued to come closer and her/his voice became frantic.
"No, seriously now-" she/he noticed Jak's deadly pacing cease. His eyes were paralysed in astonishment. Kylana turned to the focus.
A huge, wet bulk of cartilage and solid grey muscle was diving through the air aided by gravity. The jaws opened, exposing a gummy red cavern filled wall to wall with skin-stripping teeth. Kylana was encapsulated by the prison of the shark's jaws in a microsecond.
Rubbery flesh slapped the water as the shark re-entered having collected its takeaway.
A few seconds later
"Thank goodness," Jak thought. "He's/she's dead and I didn't have to kill him/her since that would tarnish my hero status." He gave a comfortable sigh and belch.
"Am I forgetting something?" he wondered. A little prick of thought seemed to be trying to get through to him. "Kalya!" he remembered and with that sprinted back to the underground.
The cold air in the room seared the moisture on his face. The beautiful, flawless and now lifeless Kalya lay on the floor like a throat-chilling statue.
"No!" Jak cried as the grief struck his heart. He lifted the shell-like, stone cold body into his arms. Congealed blood formed a beacon over her fatal wound.
"No," he whispered into the fragile silence. Jak rocked back and forth trying to restore heat to the former person wrapped in his arms. Stinging tears meandered down his cheeks.
Ten years later
He finally stopped mourning and looked down. In place of a corpse there was an assortment of bones, to which, maggot-munched ribbons of skin clung. The whole thing gave off a fierce stench of rot.
"Eww!" said Jak, jumping back. The bones clattered to the floor, splashing up a cloud of billowing dust. "Uh, yuck," he complained, brushing fetid residue from his clothes.
"Maybe I'll go find Daxter," he thought. Upbeat, he went off to seek his friend who had been preserved in alcohol for the duration of this story. His once true love continued to decompose. And the sun bloomed in the sky over Haven city and everybody was happy.
Moral of story: Never trust anyone you meet on the internet as they might be perverted fifty year old men.
EXTENDED ENDING
The water's surface was straining. A slick robotic head rose from the centre of the disturbance. Metal hinges rumbled, lifted by a glistening hand. The human shape wriggled out of the lustrous entrance, under the intestine of luminous pipes and wires. Tainted, grey-green water lapped at their legs as they scaled the curdled seaweed wall of the port.
The person's long ears sprang over the wall, a split second before their body. Once safely perched, they removed a ridiculously elaborate mask of a fifty year old man. A full body suit was peeled off with difficultly since it clung as though magnetised.
Blonde hair was wrung and the rivulets of foul water made a shivering puddle in the pavement. There was a business-like air about how this cleansing was carried out.
Keira was leaning against a varnished bench in New Haven when the sunrays started to comb the land. There was a patter of leather footsteps approaching her and she turned.
On seeing Keira, Tess' cheeks rose in a smile and she sped up.
Keira leapt to her feet, racked with expectation. "Did you do it?"
Tess' smile widened and she nodded.
"YES! Praise be the Precursors, one less sue for us to deal with!"
Tess silently shared Keira's buoyant display of joy.
"Hey, you haven't said anything?" Keira commented.
"Oh, I'm happy too! Just, do you want to move on with our next assignment?" Tess tilted her head slightly with the question and Keira noticed a small piece of seaweed adorning the strands of sandy blonde hair.
"Okay, if you're eager?"
Tess nodded briskly with azure eyes trained on Keira.
"Well, I heard about this bad fic. You won't believe what it is about. In it, we are supposed to be lesbians. LESBIANS! I know it is sooooo weird!" Keira shook her head in exasperation.
Her high volume, richly detailed speech had already begun to attract the attention of some passers-by but she was too absorbed to notice this or the fact that Tess' eyes had gone….elsewhere.
Keira brought her fist crashing down into her open palm. Scheming and determination clogged her eyes and set mouth. "Okay, Tess, let's do this." Her voice left little room for protest.
Tess nodded enthusiastically and her hair bobbed up and down like a spring.
Keira turned and walked down the street, feet beating the pavement. Tess followed, enjoying the sight of Keira's purple-clad hips swaying succulently. There was a loving look prevalent on Tess' face, one that should only have been reserved for Daxter.
Keira was blissfully oblivious to the true reason Tess helped her bring down badfics. Hopefully she would never find out.
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