Warning and disclaimer: This story contains extremely graphic violence and 
sexuality. If you are offended by descriptions of intense violence and sadism, 
you are encouraged to stop reading this now. You have been warned. 
Copyright stuff: You may freely distribute and archive this story as you wish, 
provided that it is not sold for profit, nor altered in any way. The story 
*must* include this copyright information as well as the warning and disclaimer 
above. 
 
_Liz: Hell Hath No Fury_ 
(Part I)
by the Poison Pen
copyright 1997
Though here the heart its anguish has to smother,
In Heaven its sufferings aloud are cried.
God's vengeance comes at last in recompense,
And punishment, though tardy, is immense.
                  -- Ludovico Ariosto, "Orlando Furioso"
Liz ran through the checklist her father had left beside the computer, making 
sure all the tell-tales were green. She had no idea what any of them meant, but 
she had seen her father using it often enough to have the run-down almost by 
heart. It wouldn't do to make a mistake at this point. 
The computer gave a cheerful chirp to indicate that all systems were online and 
functioning. Liz ran her fingers through her tousled, uncombed mass of dark 
brown hair and lowered herself into the chair before the terminal that operated 
the bank of sophisticated processors. The computer offered her the geopositional 
targetting system, but of course she had no accurate numbers to feed it. 
Instead, she used the visual mode, scrolling through the digitized map of the 
city. 
There. That was the spot. Liz etched a rectangle onto the map with the mouse, 
and there was a pause while the computer began working on the fiendishly 
difficult calculations necessary for it to perform its amazing task. She leaned 
back in the chair and rubbed at her irritated eyes, red- rimmed from crying. 
Liz turned to look at the receiver bed's flat, antiseptic steel plating. Walls 
which could be raised and lowered were set up and locked in place at twelve 
inches, all around the edge of the empty receiver bed. The overhead lights 
banished all shadow, and made the bare, brushed steel gleam. At six feet across, 
the square bed took up most of the space in the basement computer lab, something 
Liz's mother grumbled about constantly. 
The computer gave its friendly chirp again, and a window popped up on the 
screen, asking for a ratio. Liz thought briefly, and tapped in the number 
fifteen on the keyboard. That would give a ratio of fifteen to one. There was 
another brief pause, and huge lettering appeared on the screen: 
                    analysis complete
                    ratio 15:1
                    proceed? (y/n)
Her finger rested lightly on the 'y' key. Once she pressed it, there would be no 
turning back, no backing out. The events of the day previous came back to her in 
a rush. 
Liz had been betrayed. Ashley, her best friend, had found her diary while 
visiting, and stolen it. It wasn't her current diary, so Liz hadn't even 
realized it was missing until... Liz ground her teeth and a tear was squeezed 
from her eye. The taunts from her classmates and from people she thought were 
her friends echoed through her mind. "Liz the lez," they called her. Liz had 
known she preferred girls for years, and Ashley had read about her dreams, her 
fantasies, her unrequited needs. And Ashley had been disgusted. Because more 
than one of those fantasies had been about her. 
It hadn't taken long for word of the diary to spread through school. At sixteen, 
the damage seemed monstrous to Liz, unstoppable. The whispering, the sniggering, 
the lewd looks from the boys; and when she discovered that they had been passing 
photocopies of some of the 'juicier' pages from her diary, Liz had fled the 
school in tears. 
Her parents, of course, hadn't even noticed. Liz had moped sullenly around the 
house while the two of them had run through experiment after experiment down 
here. Her father was in charge of the project that had created the wondrous 
invention she now sat before, and her mother had been his secretary for years, 
even before the two had been married. Liz knew there were less than ten people 
in the world who knew about the discovery, all of them employed by the same 
corporation her parents worked for. The implications of the device were so 
incredible, so far-reaching, that a complete security blanket had been lowered 
over the project. Not even the government knew that it existed. 
Liz bit her lower lip. She knew what she planned was very, very wrong, but her 
heart cried out for retribution. Blanking her mind, Liz pressed the key. It was 
done. 
     Ashley watched the two young teens at the back of the store, a
     boy and what looked like his girlfriend, closely. They had been 
     in the store almost a half an hour, and hadn't bought anything. 
     Ashley guessed by the way they kept sneaking glances at her that 
     they were waiting for her attention to drift so they could shoplift 
     something. Ashley was in a foul mood and if those punks didn't 
     clear out soon, she was going to tell them to get lost.
     Damn Liz anyway, thought Ashley, accurately guessing the cause of
     her gloom. She hadn't planned on making a laughing stock of Liz 
     the way she had, but that stuff in Liz's diary was just too gross. 
     When Ashley had discovered her friend's sexual leanings in the
     book, at first she had been tittilated. That quickly turned to
     disgust when Ashley found long, detailed descriptions of the
     perverted things Liz had wanted to do with her. 
     Still, Ashley hadn't intended for things to go as far as they 
     had. She had loaned the diary to a few people and the next thing 
     she knew, everyone in the school seemed to have photocopies from 
     it. Liz had endured some pretty mean teasing, and Ashley felt a
     little guilty. She was also a little nervous. Before Liz had
     run from the school yesterday in tears, she had shot Ashley a 
     look of such venomous, icy hatred that Ashley had felt a shivery
     thrill of fear.
     A woman entered the store and went back to the cooler at the other
     end of the store. Suddenly the power went out, and the store was
     filled with shadows. 
The effects were instantaneous. Liz had heard her father talking about quantum 
scaling and collapsing waveforms, and didn't understand a word of it. What it 
amounted to was the ability to transport matter from one place to another, and 
to control completely the physical size and mass of that matter. The entire 
process could be run with a power source no greater than a single nine volt 
battery. 
Turning to the receiver bed, Liz's heart gave a lurch. It was there! She could 
hardly believe it. She had done it. She had really, actually done it. Her pulse 
quickened as she stood to examine her prize. 
It looked like a convenience store, down to the smallest detail. Liz could see 
the front swinging doors, the advertising posters, the pay phone just inside the 
entrance, exactly the way she remembered it. The only difference was that the 
building was now scarcely four feet across and nine inches high, with a layer of 
sidewalk and concrete covering the rest of the receiver bed like icing on a 
cake. 
Liz stepped up to the border of the bed. A thought crossed her mind. She 
suddenly realized that she really ought to have checked to make sure Ashley was 
working today. It was a school holiday, a professional development day for the 
teachers, and Liz knew that Ashley always spent those working at the store. 
Still, she knew she should have checked. 
Nothing was happening. Liz began to wonder if something had gone wrong. She 
leaned over the bed and grabbed the edge of the flat roof of the miniature 
convenience store. Her nails bit into the brick and concrete, and with a yank, 
she tore off a two-foot wide piece of the roof. It felt to her as if she were 
breaking popsicle sticks. 
Half the inside of the store, including the cash register, came into view 
through a haze of plaster dust. Tiny cans and boxes had spilled to the floor in 
drifts from the violence of Liz's unroofing. For the first time Liz saw some 
motion, in the piles of tumbled cigarette cartons behind the cash register. An 
arm emerged, and then a tiny blonde head. At the sight, a surge of hatred tore 
through Liz. It was Ashley. 
Ashley, disoriented, climbed shakily to her feet. Liz watched the tiny blonde 
glance around, and then up, and the look of astonishment on the girl's face made 
Liz grin savagely. 
"Hey, Ash," said Liz, her voice like a peal of thunder to Ashley. "Read any good 
books lately?" 
Ashley shrieked and bolted. Where she planned to run to, Liz didn't know, but 
she didn't let Ashley get very far. Reaching into the rubble of the store, she 
grabbed Ashley's leg between thumb and forefinger as gently as she could, and 
pulled her out. 
The sensation, thought Liz, as Ashley kicked and punched and screamed, was much 
like picking up a baby mouse. She held Ashley by one ankle, and let her dangle 
in front of her face as Liz inspected her. Ashley was about four inches tall, 
Liz estimated. As Liz stared intently at her tiny captive, Ashley fell silent, 
terrified at the proximity of this monstrously huge mountain of a woman. Both 
girls looked each other in the eye. 
"Please don't hurt me," said Ashley, in a tiny, high-pitched squeak of a voice.
Liz hadn't quite got as far as this in her plans. Now that she had her hated 
enemy at her mercy, she wasn't sure what to do with her. Upside down, Ashley's 
skirt had fallen to her waist, revealing long, slender legs and tiny pink 
panties. Liz sucked at her lower lip, and looked guiltily around the room, as if 
expecting someone to leap out at her, ready to catch her doing something 
shameful. 
Hardly daring to breathe, Liz reached out and pinched Ashley's skirt between the 
thumb and forefinger of her other hand. The skirt tore away like the most 
gossamer of spider webs. Liz grinned widely, and Ashley began to panic again. 
Quickly, Liz tore Ashley's blouse off, then slit her bra open with a fingernail 
so it fell fluttering to the floor. The panties took Liz a bit of time, but she 
managed to roll them off. Finally, with a flick of her finger, Liz sent Ashley's 
sandals spinning off and laid her naked little prize in the palm of her hand.
"Oh no! Please don't!" squeaked Ashley in her tiny voice. 
With her index finger, Liz turned her captive over so she lay on her stomach in 
Liz's palm. Liz could feel the soft swell of Ashley's breasts, could feel the 
little tickle of Ashley's breath against her palm. The beautiful, round little 
tush that Liz had spent so long lusting for was bare before her, and she stroked 
it gently with a finger, entranced by the silky feel of the skin. She let her 
finger trail down the swell of Ashley's cheeks, then down the tiny thighs, and 
lingered on the shapely, feminine calves before tickling the bottoms of Ashley's 
feet, delighting in watching the dainty little toes curl and uncurl. Finally, 
Liz rolled her captive back onto her back. 
Liz bent her face forward until her nose and lips pressed against Ashley's 
flesh. Ashley became very still. Liz took a deep sniff, and caught the faint 
scent of baby powder. Closing her eyes, Liz opened her mouth and slid her tongue 
across Ashley's skin, leaving a glistening trail of saliva. Making little 
grunting noises, Liz gave in to her fantasies, running the tip of her tongue 
over every available inch and darting it at the tuft of fine hair between the 
tiny blonde's thighs, pressing the breath from her captive with her lips. Ashley 
sobbed quietly to herself, enduring the ordeal. 
Widening her lips, Liz tongued Ashley entirely into her mouth. Liz sank back 
into the chair and concentrated on the sensations and sweat-salty flavour she 
was receiving. Slowly, she rolled Ashley against her palate with her tongue, 
closing her lips and cutting off the last of the girl's light. Ashley struggled 
violently, trying vainly to grab hold of the slippery tongue, keeping her arms 
and legs away from the huge teeth that surrounded her. Her screams vibrated 
through Liz's head. 
Without conscious thought, Liz tilted her head back. Ashley slipped, head 
forward against the back of Liz's mouth. The swallowing reflex triggered and Liz 
felt the tiny naked body slide in a screaming lump down her throat. Like that, 
Ashley was gone. 
A small orgasm rippled through Liz, making her moan softly. She had never 
imagined that having a living person within her would make her feel so... 
powerful. She could faintly sense Ashley's diminishing struggles inside her like 
butterflies brushing the pit of her stomach with their wings. She reached into 
her jeans, and found the front of her panties were soaked. 
Liz opened her eyes and spotted a furtive movement from the receiver bed. She 
suddenly realized that there might have been customers in the store when she had 
taken it. Guiltily, she wondered how much they had seen. 
Rising from her chair, Liz approached the receiver bed again. Peering into the 
ruins of the store she saw nothing, so she ripped the other half of the roof off 
and found them hunkered down in the walk-in freezer, a wall of milk crates 
around them like a fort. A woman and two teens, boy and girl. 
Liz flicked the crates aside with her finger and grabbed all three in her hand. 
Sitting back in the chair, Liz looked at them closely. The woman was somewhere 
in early middle age, and not particularly attractive. She stared up at Liz 
dumbly, too stunned to react. The two teens were clutching each other for 
comfort, the girl in tears, the boy just frozen with terror. 
The sight of three tiny, helpless people in her hand was making Liz nearly 
mindless with arousal. These were real people, she reminded herself, and they 
had never even met her, much less done anything to her. They were not toys. Her 
mental protests had a hollow ring to them. Liz knew that there was something 
very important inside her that had broken, and couldn't make herself care. 
"Sorry, I really need you," said Liz huskily to her captives, and began 
hurriedly tearing off their clothes with her other hand, not taking any great 
care not to hurt them. 
All three screamed and struggled uselessly with the huge fingers that pulled and 
tore at their clothing. The woman gibbered an almost unintelligible stream of 
babble in her squeaky voice, alternately threatening Liz and offering money to 
make her stop. 
When the three were pink and naked, Liz reached down and unbuttoned the top of 
her jeans with her free hand. Lifting her bottom, Liz managed to pull down her 
pants, and then her panties, as far as her knees without having to get out of 
the chair. 
Separating out the woman, Liz gripped her firmly between her thumb and 
forefinger. When the woman saw where she was headed, she shrieked like a soul 
being condemned to Hell, struggling with manic strength. Liz pressed the 
writhing little body against her sopping wet vaginal lips, and thought she might 
pass out from the sheer tactile pleasure of it. Shoving with her middle finger, 
Liz pushed the little screaming woman deep inside, where her captive's frantic 
struggles sent waves of perverse, erotic pleasure crashing through her. 
"More," growled Liz, panting and bucking her hips in the chair. Grabbing one of 
the teens - the boy, though she hadn't bothered to check which - she tore him 
away from his girlfriend's embrace and stuffed him roughly inside her vagina 
behind the woman, shoving both deeper inside. Liz squeezed her thighs together, 
trapping them both inside the wet, hot oven of her pussy, drowning in her 
secretions, being slowly crushed by her rhythmically pulsing vaginal muscles. 
Their mortal struggles sent unimaginably powerful erotic pulses radiating out 
from her groin in electric waves that she could almost see. 
Holding onto the feet of her third captive, Liz shoved the girl into her mouth, 
and began thrusting her in and out like a popsicle, sucking on her and making 
wet slobbering noises and breathy growls. When Liz's climax exploded like a 
volcano, she gasped and bit down convulsively, severing the girl at the knees. 
The sudden salty gush of blood made her mouth water, and she began chewing, 
abruptly cutting off the girl's pitiful shrieks of agony. The taste was 
salty-sweet, and had a pleasant consistancy that was both crunchy and chewy. 
After she swallowed, Liz tossed the two tiny legs into her mouth and ate those 
too. For a long time, she just sat and lingered in the afterglow of her 
thunderous orgasm. Eventually, Liz realized that her two tenants had long since 
stopped struggling. It took a while to fish them out with her fingers, since 
they were both slick with her juices and had been pushed all the way back to her 
cervix. 
Their glistening bodies laid sprawled in the palm of her hand, smashed and 
twisted by the force of her climaxing vaginal muscles. Their faces had frozen in 
soundless screams of horror. Liz toyed with them a little, but there were no 
signs of life. She tilted her head back and dropped both bodies into her mouth, 
swallowing them whole. 
As she sat ruminating on what she had done, the phone rang, making her jump. She 
pulled up her pants quickly, as if whoever was on the other end could see 
through the phone. 
"Hello," she said, her voice a little uneven. 
"Liz, what the hell is going on? Have you been messing with the Machine?" came 
her father's voice. 
Liz's blood ran cold. "Wh-what do you mean?" 
"I mean the sensor on my desk is going crazy! Did you do anything to the 
Machine, Liz? This is important!" 
A sensor. It made perfect sense. Liz cursed herself. If she had stopped to think 
about it, she knew she ought to have realized they'd have some kind of alarm on 
the Machine. She sagged in the chair. It was over. All over. It would all come 
out. She would be branded a monster. There was nothing left but to kill herself.
"Liz? Liz, are you there? Liz, I'm coming home." 
Wait, she thought, thinking furiously. There was a possibility. What were the 
limits of the Machine? She didn't know. "Uh, hold on a second, Daddy. I'm 
upstairs. Let me go check down in the lab and I'll tell you if anything is going 
on." 
"Well dammit, hurry," Liz heard distantly as she put the phone receiver down. 
Turning to the computer, she began typing rapidly. The Machine had completed its 
recharge cycle. She clicked the mouse across the city map, selecting a large 
area at the edge of town. Minutes dragged by endlessly. She chewed her nails. 
"Liz?" she heard from the receiver. "Liz?" 
The computer chimed, and Liz did some quick mental calculations. She entered a 
ratio of five hundred to one. She didn't know if the Machine could handle that, 
but she had to try. A second window popped up, one she had never seen before:
                         clear receiver? (y/n) 
Liz glanced over at the shattered convenience store, and hit 'y'. There was a 
brief flash of light, and the receiver bed was empty. Liz wondered where the 
building had gone, or if it had just disappeared forever. A new window appeared:
                         analysis complete
                         ratio 500:1
                         proceed? (y/n) 
She was aware that the phone had gone dead a minute ago or so. She had only 
seconds to spare. With no hesitation, Liz hit 'y'. 
When Liz stood up and hurried over to the receiver bed, she was alarmed at 
first, but quickly realized she had almost overlooked the small, shiny 
rectangular box sitting near one edge. She leaned closer for a better look. 
     Something was wrong, he knew it. He hung up the phone and left 
     the office at a jog. "Let's go," he said to his wife as he passed 
     through the outer office. She looked up at him curiously but turned 
     off her terminal and followed him. The elevator seemed to take 
     forever, and when they reached the ground floor the power went out, 
     plunging them into darkness and forcing them to pull open the doors 
     manually. 
     By the time they got out, a crowd had already formed in the lobby. 
     "Oh God," he breathed, as he saw what everyone was pointing at. 
     No one knew what to make of the vast, steel plain stretching out 
     endlessly before them -- except him. Even before the mountain-sized
     head descended into view, causing hysterical panic and exit en 
     masse, he had his wife by the hand and was running like hell from 
     the building. 
The little rectangular box was small enough she could have held it in one hand. 
It was, of course, the building that housed the corporate institute. As she 
leaned closer, she noticed tiny multi-coloured specks moving out from the 
building in expanding concentric circles. 
A silly grin broke out on her face as she realized what the little specks were. 
They were people! Real, live, little people! They were no more than a tenth of 
an inch tall, barely visible as people to the naked eye. 
Liz knew that the only people in the world who even knew the Machine existed 
were somewhere before her. She had taken the building in a panic, but she 
realized now that it was the best thing she could have done. She was safe now.
Liz leaned even closer, holding her hair back with a hand so as not to drop it 
on the fleeing crowds. How many worked in the the tower, she wondered. 
Thousands, probably. With her nose nearly touching the steel, she tried to focus 
on the tiny darting shapes. She could pick out little flashes of white that she 
thought must be lab coats, and the way some of the dresses billowed as their 
wearer ran made them visible. Liz giggled, and the sudden gust of air sent 
dozens of the little shapes sliding across the receiver bed, for to them it was 
a blast of hurricane wind of proportions just short of apocalyptic. 
Leaning as close as she could, Liz delighted in watching the antics of the 
little people. She moved from group to group, observing each one as if it was a 
rare bird. She felt a kind of funny feeling that she was at a loss to explain. 
She finally realized that what she felt was power; total, absolute power, more 
erotic than sex. It whispered sweetly to her. 
She found a particularly large group of fleeing people and watched them for a 
bit. Then, without pausing to think about it, she opened her mouth and dipped 
her tongue, taking a long lick on the cold steel. She drew her tongue in and saw 
she had left a wide, empty swath in the middle of the crowd that now scattered 
in all directions. 
Concentrating on the tiny people stuck to her tongue, Liz thought she could feel 
something, almost like a very faint tingling. She swallowed and the sensation of 
all those dozens of people struggling in her saliva vanished. With a look of 
hungry, sadistic lust on her face, Liz bent to the receiver bed again and licked 
up another crowd of tiny people, making little moaning noises as she did it. She 
mashed her tongue against the roof of her mouth for the faint tang of salt it 
produced. Her swallow brought her a small, shuddering orgasm. 
After having seen their coworkers lapped up like crumbs, the remainder of the 
people who had fled began running back inside as quickly as they had come, for 
whatever little protection the building provided. Liz amused herself by pressing 
her finger down atop the few stragglers that hadn't yet made it to cover. Her 
fingertip was sensitive enough to feel the miniscule violent struggles of the 
people trapped beneath. They were far too small to be heard, but Liz imagined 
that they must be screaming and begging for their lives. Slowly, Liz increased 
the pressure until she had crushed her little victims flat, as if they were 
insects. She looked with interest at the tiny red smears on the pad of her 
finger, and wiped it clean with a swipe of her tongue. 
Liz returned to her chair and sat down. There was no more movement from the 
receiver bed, though she could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at her 
with utter terror from the relative safety of the little building. Liz turned to 
the desk beside her, and began rooting through the drawers until she came up 
with a package of Twinkies. She knew her father had them hidden all over the 
place, his secret vice. Smiling a sinister grin, Liz opened the package and took 
a bite, revealing the creamy filling. She stood once more and approached the 
receiver bed. 
Liz eyed the building. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," she said in a 
stage whisper. With a fingernail, she flicked the side of the building lightly, 
shattering all the windows and sending masonry crumbling to the surface of the 
steel plain that surrounded it. As she expected, hundreds of tiny people came 
boiling from the building in a panicking mass. The Twinkie in her hand came down 
like a plummeting office block, the end of it landing on a part of the crowd. 
Liz blotted the mob with the end of the Twinkie again and again. 
When Liz lifted the Twinkie, the people had vanished. Looking at the end of the 
Twinkie, however, Liz was delighted to see it writhed with tiny cream- covered 
specks, hopelessly mired in the filling. There were hundreds of real, live 
people there, thought Liz. Hundreds of terrified, screaming little people in 
fear for their lives. People with families, and hopes, dreams, and desires, just 
like her. This knowledge, the sudden brutal reality of it, horrified her for a 
moment. Then the broken part inside her stopped working again. Liz shoved the 
whole cake into her mouth and closed her eyes. She made an 'mmmm' noise as she 
chewed, and when she swallowed she wore a beatific smile on her face that could 
never have been confused with sanity. 
There must still be people inside the building, thought Liz, though nowhere near 
as many as there had once been. A nasty thought occured to her, and she hunted 
up a piece of paper and an empty glass. Liz pressed her index finger against the 
top of the tower and pushed. Several top floors collapsed, and another flood of 
fleeing secretaries and executives and scientists came pouring out in a rush. 
Using her fingers to sweep the crowd along, Liz pushed them onto the piece of 
paper which she had laid flat on the receiver bed. She then lifted the paper and 
curled it into a 'U' shape, which she used to pour the people into the empty 
glass. 
Despite having been as gentle as she could and tilting the glass so the tiny 
people would slide down the inner sides to the bottom instead of plummeting, Liz 
could see a lot of injured people when she lifted the glass and squinted through 
it at its contents. She shrugged, and shook the glass a little, giggling as all 
of the little people were thrown from their feet. 
Liz set the glass down on the floor and began removing her clothes one piece at 
a time in a sensual strip-tease for her tiny captives. Her panties had soaked 
clear through, and her juices ran down her thighs. Her nipples were so hard and 
sensitive that Liz gasped when the air brushed them. She had never been as horny 
as she was just then. 
Liz laid herself on the floor on her back, knees bent. She bit her lip as she 
used one finger to rub the swollen, slippery flesh of her labia, then used two 
fingers to pry herself wide open. With her other hand, she lifted the glass and 
held it a few inches from her face. "Bon voyage," she said, and placed a light 
kiss on the glass, observing the utter panic that was going on inside. Then she 
brought the glass down the length of her body and tipped it over slowly, 
spilling its human cargo down into the hot, wet depths of her throbbing cleft. 
They were so tiny she never even felt them. 
Pumping her fingers in and out of herself, Liz groaned, imagining all the 
hundreds of people smothering and drowning inside her, suffering horribly for 
her sexual pleasure. She climaxed so powerfully that she actually blacked out 
for a second or two, and smaller orgasms continued to go off in sequence, like a 
string of firecrackers. 
Her climax slowly dwindled until Liz lay panting on the floor, trying to chase 
the blue spots out of her vision. It was a few minutes before she had enough 
energy to climb wobbly-legged to her feet. Liz wondered if there might be any 
more wonderful little playthings left in the tower. 
After repeated batterings with her finger, the building yielded no further tasty 
treats. Whatever people remained within the building had decided to take their 
chances there, rather than run to their certain deaths. Pressing with her thumb 
onto the roof, Liz drove her finger straight down until the building collapsed 
into a smoking ruin. She ground the rubble with her thumb until it had been 
thorougly pulverised and nothing living could have remained within. 
As she picked several mangled corpses from her teeth with a fingernail, Liz 
realized for the first time that her parents had been in that building 
somewhere. She wondered if she had crushed them, or if they were swimming in her 
stomach at that very moment, slowly dissolving amongst the dead and dying. Their 
bodies might even be lost somewhere in the black depths of her vagina. The 
thought made her feel fiendish and powerful, and she licked her murderous lips.
Liz powered down the computer and picked her discarded clothes up from the 
floor. Tomorrow, classes would start again, and Liz's eyes narrowed. A lot of 
people would be very sorry for what they had done to her. Oh yes. She turned off 
the basement lights and went upstairs to turn on the television. Liz guessed 
there would be some very interesting news about vanishing buildings, and smiled.
 
- end part I -