"No, this isn't right. He should have checked in hours ago."

"Maybe he's just late."

"By three hours?"

"Maybe he had an aneurism."

"I... Yeah, maybe. Still, I have a bad feeling about this."

The other man rolled his eyes and walked around the desk he'd been perched on. "Fine." He picked a red phone up off of it's receiver and cradled it between his shoulder and ear. "Two - Seven - One - Three - Nine." He waited. "Uh-huh.... Yes, patch me through to Episilon."

The other man's eyebrows rose. "Oh wow, banking a lot on my gut."

With one shoulder he shrugged back. "Fuck it. This is too important to not be sure." His attention went back to the phone. "Yes, it's me. We've not had a check in from our friend. I want eyes on that place before 1900."


White text on a black background reflected in Cassandra's bulging eyes. "Oh fuck." She whispered. The mouse wheel scrolled audibly and she punched a few keys, changing values in the model.

Clicking run again she waited pensively. A little bar filled and the new numbers flashed up. This couldn't be right. Leaning back in her chair, she could only say it again. "Oh fuuuuuck."


The rain was letting up now, easing into a slower downpour, the burning sun piercing the black clouds and shining on the decimated prison. Foot prints in the mud that hadn't been entirely washed away, too large and too deep, began to solidify. A trail for a jaguar to hunt.

Amber had been careful prying the roof off of the lab. Making sure to rip free enough so that she could watch the scientists work without the rain hindering any of their work had been a delicate process. She was sat on the broken rooftop of the corridor that she'd smashed to get here, legs dangling into the lab that had birthed her new form, bearing down on the workers. Smith was her foreman, barking orders and making sure the next batch of G37 was made as efficiently and quickly as possible. Amber found that she was beginning to like having a slave. Someone to impart her will without her even raising a finger. She wriggled her toes, smirking down at her little sweat factory.

Her smirk dropped when one of the scientists slipped, the flask he'd been holding squeaking against his glove before it shattered against the ground. Like a server dropping a plate in a restaurant, everyone went silent. First they looked to him. Then they looked up, to her. Amber's expression wasn't explicitly unhappy but the sheer weight of her gaze had the man sweating.

"I'm s-so sorry!" He cried. Her legs kicked playfully, toes close to the ground even while sat 12 foot up. Pale blue eyes moved to Smith. She pointed to the scientist and then curled her finger, beckoning Smith to bring him over.

Smith had been keeping his composure together as much as possible, hoping he wasn't sweating clean through his suit. He ran his dry tongue over drier lips. "Hey!" He shouted, storming over to the man. He gripped a handful of his shirt and pulled him in to hiss, "go over there and fucking grovel." That left the scientist bewildered but when Smith flung him into Amber's direction, his journey was already well under way.

He slowed after the initial stumble, a more tentative paced walk carrying him to stand before her massive form. The scientist kept his eyes low, looking at her feet rather than making eye contact. Feeling like he's walked into the lion's den, he began to talk.

"Please, I'm really, really sorry. I-I didn't mean to drop the flask. I'll make another batch even faster!" He chose to look up then to gauge her response and saw the indifference in her eyes. For some reason that was worse than anger. That cold, uncaring, bored stare frightened him. "I'll do anything! Whatever you want, just please don't hurt me!" He begged, desperation becoming too much. Having this tiny thing beg to her sent a thrill through Amber and a smile tugged at her lips, boredom evaporating. She wanted to see how far he'd debase himself before she decided if he'd earned his worthless life.

"Get on your knees." He did it without a second thought. Her mud covered foot hovered closer to him, big toe flexing up so that it's bottom faced him. A shiver ran through the scientist as he was reminded again just how large she was. The crusted mud on the bottom of her feet had dried for the most part and he could see the ridges of her toes where it had flaked off. Each ridge looked to be an inch thick... Being abducted by her had been traumatic in itself, but on his knees in front of her, foot ready to end him. It was a horrifying.

"Kiss it." This time he hesitated for a half second but, quickly leaned in to peck the head sized toe. He rocked back, resisting the urge to wipe dried mud from his lips.

"Was that it?" Amber asked with fake shock. She wanted to see him squirm. "A tiny, lil' peck?" Her toes wriggled in what would have been a playful way in any other situation. "Aw, look she's upset now! She doesn't think you really meant that kiss and, to be honest," her voice grew dark, "I don't think you did either." The scientist looked from the toes, up to Amber, panic rising. She scrunched and flexed them more violently, mud cracking and falling off. The action made them seem brimming with anger, expanding out of their shell. "She's pretty mean when she's angry." For some reason that one line was ominous enough to start the scientist nervously twitching faster than before. "You better make it up to heeeeeer." He didn't need any further persuasion, rocketing forward on his knees to hug the foot, passionately kissing the big toe. Amber hummed in approval, tingles running up her leg and spine.

"Good boy." She cooed. "Lick too. I want her spotless by the time you're done." He complied, stomach turning with his first lick along the crusted bottom of her toe. Dirt and mud assaulted his pallet but he licked and swallowed and fought to stay alive.

Amber pushed the man down under her sole, massaging his body with the ball of her foot as he pathetically followed her orders. She tweaked her nipple and let out a little gasp of pleasure, kneading the entire massive tit. God, this was making her horny. She hadn't had anyone this pliable in the inmates. Anyone this easy to mould into -

A thumping caught her ear, momentarily distracting Amber from her fun. She tried to ignore it but couldn't. It sounded like... It was getting closer. It was.

Amber hopped up, full weight coming down on the pathetic insect underfoot. He'd turned to jam beneath her weight. The aryan didn't even notice, swivelling around to see Vásquez. Vásquez?! She was almost a blur, tearing through left over ruins of corridors and walls, ripping up the soil and mud and concrete with every step.

A feeling gripped Amber that she hadn't had in a long time. A cold stone in the pit of her stomach. She tried to block the first punch, arms coming up in slow motion, unable to stop the overhand right. Her jaw completely unhinged, dislocating from the force of the hook that rattled her brain and sent her careening through the side of the lab, into an adjacent room. The world wouldn't stop tilting to and fro.


Coughing, Smith waved away clouds of dust. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened. One second he was smiling at Amber playing with the scientist, the next the scientist was gone and Amber had flown through the air. He caught a glimpse of something that instantly made his heart seize. Copper skin. Black hair. That fucking tattoo. Vásquez. Fucking Vásquez?! How the fuck was she this big? He felt a flutter run through him, once again having control escape him because of this giant latina. Jones. Jones must have had a part to play in this. There was no other way. "Keep working!" He screamed to the scientists.  Vásquez wasn't as big as Amber, but something was eating away at Smith. They needed more G37. Now. He was not letting Vásquez ruin everything again.

Heading to the closest scientists, he slammed her against one of the machines. "Double the speed. Make as much as you can as fast as you can. Understand?"

The wide eyed woman nodded, weeks of working with Smith meant she knew she shouldn't disobey. "Good. Because mark my words, if Vásquez wins this, we all die." He released her, hurrying away.

"W-wait, where are you going?" She asked after him.

"I need to talk to someone."


Vásquez didn't hesitate, diving after the prone giantess, sprawling onto the larger woman. Decimating more walls, she threw a flurry of punches at any patch of the aryan she could. Amber tortoise shelled up, absorbing the punches with shoulders, biceps and forearms, struggling to right her equilibrium.

The scientists stayed true to Smith's orders, working as well as they could while the two giants destroyed their surroundings, shaking the floor with each exchange. They'd take glances at the insanity unfolding yards away, trying to keep steady, mixing chemicals. Vásquez straddled Amber, muscled, wide caramel hips laid atop alabaster ones. God, she was so heavy. Heavier than she should be. Denser? Amber couldn't stop her mind running wild with questions.

Her veins throbbed purple and slowly her groggy state abated. She clenched her jaw, G37 helping to snap it back into place, fixing her rocked brain. The panic faded. She was still bigger than this bitch. Stronger. Through her guard, Amber shot the furious latina a grin and blew a kiss. Like a cobra striking, she gripped one of Vásquez's wrists. Her strength meant she could still, easily, buck her hips, sending Vásquez off balance. Still blinded by anger, Vásquez launched into another, ill timed attack. Blocking a hook, Amber grunted, pulling her opponent's other arm down, rolling and cleaving clean through into another room. She pinned the latina to the ground under her and leered down. "Not so easy when I'm still bigger, right?"

"Fuck you." Vásquez spat, pulling her head back and headbutting the woman with full force. Amber rocked back and Vásquez gripped a handful of almost bleached blonde hair. She yanked to the side, using a wall as a weapon and sending their battle further away from the lab. Vásquez scrambled on her knees towards Amber and attempted to get on top of her. This time Amber's feet stopped her, pressing into her chest and shoulders. Amber's thighs bulged and for a moment Vásquez was close enough to grab at Amber. The aryan kicked out and Vásquez went flying. Up, off of her knees, off of her feet and flung away.

The 25 foot tall woman went through a corridor and into the mud. Amber stood imposingly, quick to her feet, but didn't go for the attack. Her nose was almost flat, blood, crimson red against her snow skin, poured down her lips and dripped from her chin. A large cut along her temple wept too and even now, her jaw crunched, finally healing. Vásquez paused, only now seeing the ridiculous rate that Amber healed. Her nose reconstructed itself and her temple stitched itself closed. Amber licked her lips, the metallic taste sensing tingles through her twisted mind. She laughed, cobble stones flexing, tilting back her head and really belly laughing. "Oh, oh shit. You should see your face, you dumb fuck. Are you seriously only getting it now? You can't do shit to me." A familiar sensation ran through her. Tightening skin, burning bones. Power. "But guess what?" She planted her hands on her hips, standing massively tall. "The best," her veins glowed again, "is yet to come!"

That tell tale hyena cackle went through Amber's own brand of changes, running up and down the pitch spectrum as she began to swell. "MhhhmmmHMmmMmmm, fuck, I love this feeling." Amber groaned, letting her head roll and her eyes flutter. Her weight was getting to the point where she didn't even have to stomp to crack concrete. Mass alone was enough to do it, which is why right now tiles and cement began to split and break beneath her. Her shoulders widened even more, muscles twitching in delight as she crawled into the 32 and then 33 foot range.

Vásquez got to her feet and even from this distance, knew she'd be tiny next to Amber. She couldn't just let pure rage propel her. The growth subsided and Amber returned her gaze to her foe. "I don't know how you did it, but you came back from the dead, ya grew huge, you came charging over here and you still can't fucking beat me, can you?" She was rubbing salt into the wound. "Look at you. All big and bad and only up to my huge, round, juicy tits." Amber grabbed handfuls of her rack violently, jiggling and mashing them together. Her fire hydrant nipples rigidly begged for attention and soon a moistness began to form along her inner thighs. "Itty, bitty Vásquez." She giggled, playing with the cherry toned diamonds on her chest. "So... F-f-fucking.... Useless." Her hips danced, sharply, involuntarily and an orgasm washed over the insatiable monster. Vásquez was doing her best to keep her thinly caged anger in check. She pushed it down, deep and the red curtain opened a little. The power to construct a full sentence returned.

"Nah, it's you that doesn't get it." Vásquez said. "Doesn't matter how big you get. Even if you were a mile fucking tall, I'd climb into your ear and rip and tear until you were dead." Vásquez meant every word. She'd do anything she had to murder this bitch.

That just elicited a chuckle from Amber. "Really? Alright then." She reached down and grabbed a particularly jagged chunk of concrete. Vásquez knew what was coming. She ran to stop Amber. But it was too late. The aryan thrust the sharp point into her own chest, blood sputtering out, she dragged it along her upper body in a diagonal line. Vásquez tried to get the shard of roof from the giant, trying to wrestle control and force it into her heart. The two of them went into a war of strength and, Amber was shocked to see, Vásquez was holding her own. Gradually she pushed the tip of the bloodied, grey spear towards the already slashed chest. How was she this strong even with the size difference? Either way, it wouldn't last long though.

Amber leaned forwards, arching Vásquez back and using her weight as much as possible, utilising her size advantage to make it more difficult to move the weapon. The latina was almost at a 45 degree angle, trembling but holding steady. Amber wanted to question how but kept it out of her head. She was winning this. In this position Amber's wound dripped, hot, thick blood onto Vásquez, coating her chest and abs. But the waterfall of scarlet slowed, healing flesh closing like a dam to stem the flow.

The weight started to increase and the triangle of concrete inched further and further away from Amber's cleavage. Vásquez's biceps were burning, her chest and back and her entire body desperately trying to push back the tide. Amber throbbed bigger and bigger over her, smug smirk looming larger and larger. 33 foot. 34 foot. 35 foot. Vásquez snapped her hips to one side and let Amber's weight carry them to the ground again. She'd pivoted in such a way that their positions reversed, Vásquez on top of the growing hill. Bearing down on their connected arms and thrusting with all her might she tried to drive the point into that rotten heart. Amber continued to stop her, growing down and out into the rubble.

Seriously, what the fuck was she made out of? Vásquez felt like a block of lead coming down on Amber. Enough. Instead of trying to push her off she closed her fists, sharp edge of the concrete crumbling in her grasp. Amber kicked the latina off. She anticipated the unrelenting barrage of offense and this time, on one knee, she stopped Vásquez, catching her fist. With the aryan at 37 foot tall, and still growing Vásquez couldn't stop her. She couldn't stop perfection. Amber caught the second fist in her gargantuan hand, fingers swallowing more forearm with each second. Even on one knee, Amber was taller. She puffed herself up with confidence and pushed up to stand. 38 foot tall. Vásquez was under the shelf of her tits, looking up at the aryan from between them in a deliciously pathetic way. The aryan radiated an arrogance, doubts and caution being thrown to the wind. What had she been worried about? This tiny, inferior, little cunt?

Amber pushed down on Vásquez, intentionally smothering her face in a breast that was far bigger than her head. She tried to force a nipple into her mouth to add further insult with the act. When she couldn't a little frustrated grunt came out and Amber swung her chest, slapping the tit into the Vásquez. "OhhhHhooo. That felt good." Murmured Amber. She pushed more weight down, bending the support beam of a woman. She was un-fucking-stoppable. "Oopps!" Amber cartoonishly giggled, tipping onto her toes and falling forwards. Both women went crashing into the observation room. The black electric chair was there. They crushed it flat.

It was Amber's turn on top again and it was glorious. 39 feet tall, easily pressing Vásquez's twig arms flat against the floor with her hands. She slammed a tit to her face again, resting the wrecking ball on her, stopping her breathing. The impact pushed Vásquez's head to the floor, breast oozing around her face and scalp to make a seal. The latina sucked in as much mammary as she could and bit down hard enough to draw blood.

Amber pulled away with a gasp, a bloody circle on her underboob. She leaned forwards trying to see the barbaric attack. Her shock turned into a jubilant, horniness as the little marks began to heal. "Fuck me, Vásquez! How big do you *want* me?" The premonition came inevitably true, breast healing and growth beginning. Fingers, interlocked with Vásquez's, began to thicken, pushing fingers apart sliding down the back of the smaller hand, making deeper lines in the earth. Vásquez felt like she was dwindling between the monster's legs, increasing moisture building. Amber ground her hips into caramel abs, smearing her oily sex all over the smaller woman.

"How about you try it again and I bite your fucking nipple off." Snarled Vásquez.

A melodic giggle came in response. "You know, if you really wanna eat me so bad -" She shuffled forwards, bringing her knees over Vásquez's arms, crotch creating a trail of slime over her stomach and chest, massive, overgrown ass squishing the teeny tiny tits. That puckered, pink, purple, red slit twitched and belched forth more grool, right onto Vásquez's chin. "You could have just asked." The mountain of a woman grabbed a handful of hair, thrust her pussy forwards and jammed Vásquez into her crotch.

Like a rabid bull, Vásquez went berserk, thrashing under Amber. The aryan, even with the scale disparity, had to work to stay on. Eventually she lifted her ass and crashed down, pussy enveloping Vásquez's entire face, submerging her in Amber's sensitive, leaking folds. The ayran rocked back and forth, grinding and groaning and laughing. This was a game to her. Just like everyone else, Vásquez wasn't a threat. She was a toy. A toy that, relatively, was shrinking smaller and smaller.


Jennifer sprinted through the corridors of the secret wing. She felt like all she'd been doing for the passed hour was run back and forth. Where the fuck was Trish? How could she have gotten so far away while limping?!

The whole prison had lost power a while ago, the colossal fight being fought having done too much damage to everything and finally short circuiting the prison. Jennifer had struggled to keep her pace as the kaiju level bout rocked the world. Catching glimpses of the fight through destroyed sections of the formerly sterile corridors she'd tune in for a few seconds at a time. She couldn't stand and watch though. Even if Trish hated her, she had to keep her safe. Although she had no idea how exactly she was going to do that. She stopped, standing at a metaphorical fork in the road and ran her hands through her hair. Holding her blonde locks back, she breathed heavy, debating where to go. Where would Trish go? Where would she be trying to get to?

Wait, Cassandra was still here too wasn't she? Maybe she could hack into more cameras and find her? Earlier she'd made easy work of the prison cameras, she must have the skills to crack the others even if at the time she didn't try... Right?

It was a bad plan but it was better than no plan at all. Jennifer tapped into the mental floor plan. This way. She took off running again.


Trish, meanwhile, had been sitting in the room she'd taken refuge in. She'd actually seen Vásquez on her initial charge, early on. A surprising relief swelled in her when she saw the humungous woman going to fight Amber. That is, right up until the realisation that a few hours ago they'd been beating the snot out of each other as well. The lesser of two evils was still a massive, angry, evil woman who didn't like her. She'd resigned herself to staying in the room to wait for whatever authorities would come. Sat on a filing cabinet, she'd decided that was safest. It had given G37 and her body some time to partially heal her injuries, and it meant that she could have time to reflect and think about all the events that led to this insane crescendo. Looking back at it now she could see the hints that there was more going on between Jennifer and Vásquez.

What the fuck did she see in that murderer? What redeeming qualities could have actually have?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud clopping of shoes in the destroyed corridor. Whoever this was, they weren't wearing boots or plimsolls. These were dress shoes. Quietly, Trish stalked to the ripped open wall and peered out of the shadows. Her injured leg hadn't fully healed, but she was sure she could tail the asshole that had started this all.

Trish let him pass and then moved out into the corridor, nothing but a non-existent ghost in the distance to Smith.


After her discovery, Cassandra went into damage control. She had to wipe G38 from the records. How it was made, chemical make up, how it had interacted with Vásquez's cells.... She was deleting all of it. Destroying it. G37 was bad enough, G38 being used could be truly disastrous. Files, calculations, even the kit she'd used. Deleted, erased, sterilised.

Yet, even in her frantic whirlwind of activity that heavy, metal ch-chunk of the door being opened made her skin transform into goosebumps. A thousand thoughts raced through her head as she span to the door. The best case scenario was that Jennifer had secretly memorised the door code. The worst case was that her employers were already here.

The truth was somewhere in the middle.

"Hello, Jones." Smith said, standing in the doorway. He had a look in his eye that boarded on insanity. Cassandra stepped between him and her computer, hoping he didn't see the progress bar for the deletion.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, an equal mix of anger and fear tinting her question. Smith didn't answer her, instead lunging at the tiny woman. He wrapped his fingers around her throat, pushing her into the counter. Glassware was swiped from the table top, turning to shards, scattering across the floor. Cassandra's dainty hands attempted to pry off Smith's as he bent her backwards over her workplace. Clawing and scratching, she wasn't strong enough to pry them off.

"I finally find a silver lining in the clouds and what happens?" Smith was being rhetorical. Her must have been or he wouldn't have been squeezing the life out of the woman he was speaking to. "Nurse fucking Jones to the rescue all over again!" She barely gargled in response. "I don't know what you gave the Vásquez, but you're.... Fuuucking.... Done." He grunted, squeezing harder. This was the one cathartic revenge he'd have against the females housed in this prison. A symbol of his anger to all of them, he'd kill this one. Cassandra's blood shot eyes darted left and right. It felt like blood vessels were going off like party poppers in her head.

Thunk.

Smith let go and Cassandra sunk into the gap between his legs, thankful to breathe again. The bald man wiped sweat from his head. He brought his trembling hand up to see his sticky, blood coated fingers. "Huh, maybe I pulled the punch too much." He turned in a daze to see an expanse of red overalls. Torn and worn and stained with dirt and blood. Trish stood tall next to him, dwarfing him by over a head. She was holding a stretch of rebar, ripped from a damaged wall.

"T-Trish?" Smith asked, amazed that of all people, she was the one. He back pedalled into the tiny room, stepping on Cassandra and tripping to the floor. Trish limped forwards, brandishing the metal. "Wait, T-Trish, calm down. I can get you out of here. I c-can make sure you're free and - and you'll never hear from any of us again. I can give you that fair trial!"

That sparked something in the towering inmate. The idea that he would give her a pass, that he could make everything just - poof - disappear, was infuriating. Why could he do that? Why could he hand out free passes? Of course he'd get his own too. He'd wriggle his way out of any consequences his sick experiment had caused. When would he get comeuppance? He fucking wouldn't. He'd get away with everything while people like her were locked away. "Too fucking late." She growled. Bringing the pipe up like a baseball bat she swung with full force. Smith died on impact, wiped from the world in a bloody splatter. He'd become the catharsis, a stress ball to cent on for a 7'9 inmate. His body slumped to the floor.

"Trish?" The voice was frightened. Whirling around, Trish found Jennifer standing in the doorway. She looked... Terrified.

Shame and embarrassment shrouded her and Trish almost let the bloodied rebar slip from her fingers. Her emotions had gotten the better of her and now someone was dead. Cheeks flushing with more warmth than usual, she turned her head down, looking at the length of steel. No matter how righteous that had felt it was wrong.

All of this was because of fucking Jennifer.

"What? This turn you on?" She blurted to the woman filling the doorway.

Jennifer looked even more appalled, even more surprised. "What? N-no!"

"Oh, not enough, right? I should totally skull fuck his corpse or... Or kill her too." She pointed the gore stained weapon to Cassandra. The 5'2 woman cowered away against the desk, making herself look even tinier. Trish felt her stomach tighten at the reaction. "Well that's NOT FUCKING ME!" She bellowed, throwing the length of metal at the wall and destroying a chunk of plaster. Trish thundered towards Jennifer.

The blonde didn't know what to do, but held her hands up. "Trish, wait. Please, please let me explain." She tried to grab her friend but the palm that shoved her away, back into the tiny lab, was so strong.

"Don't touch me." Was all Trish said back, stooping under the doorway and limping away. Jennifer was dumbstruck on the floor. She debated following her but just couldn't muster the mental fortitude to try. Having Trish react like that was too much. She sat on the ground for a solid 10 seconds of silence. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she wanted the world to swallow her up. Her bottom lip quivered.

Cassandra unfurled from her crouched position. Her neck was already bruising from the choke. "Hey." She laid a hand on Jennifer' shoulder but there was no response. "Hey!" Shaking her out of her depression, emerald eyes looked to her. "It's not what you think. Trish just saved me. She saved my life, look." the scientist showed off her neck.

"I didn't... I knew she didn't do anything wrong." Jennifer finally said. "I fucked up."

Cassandra went to say something reassuring but didn't know how. The computer behind her pinged, the wipe having been deleted.

"Um... This might not be the right time, but I think we have a problem." Jennifer looked to Cassandra. "So, I didn't run the numbers for if you gave G38 to Vásquez. I... Didn't think you would." She winced.

"What? What's wrong?" Jennifer feared the worst. "Is she going to die?"

"No... Far from it." Jennifer did a double take. "So, throughout our study Vásquez has shown..." She sighed. "Completely inhuman responses to the serum. She's just attuned to it on a level that doesn't make sense. It's like genetically it's built for her. I don't know how or why since that jackass," she nodded to Smith, "wouldn't let me study her."

"What's the problem?" Jennifer asked, tension mounting on her.

"Well, I ran some tests on the data I did have. I think G38 has um... Bound to her. It's laying dormant in her system, potentially in her bone marrow."

"So?"

"W-well, I think it's replicating." Jennifer now raised her eyebrows, but wasn't understanding the full gravity. "Like stem cells. I... Okay, Vásquez will never need a dose of G37 or G38 ever again." Now her face quickly lost all colour. "Her own body is replicating it. And... Honestly, I don't know what that means. Whenever she's injured, or even whenever her body is stressed, it might come alive. The right sequence of hormones, the right bodily functions... Shit, it might even be an emotional response." Cassandra gave a tired, exasperated shrug.

Jennifer swallowed, trying to get some moisture back into the Sahara that was her mouth. "So she's going to be growing forever?"

"No. I don't know. I doubt it. It's not like G37 hanging around in her blood until it's gone. This is more like a triggered event."

Jennifer gave a sigh of relief. Triggered event. Injuries. Emotional responses. "Fuck!" Jennifer was on her feet in a flash. Considering how insanely furious she'd been when she left the holding cells, Vásquez could be 1000 foot tall by now. "I need to see what's going on." She trudged through the lab but stopped at the door. Turning she gave one worried command. "Stay right there."


"Oh, fuck! Right there!" chortled Amber as she ground another orgasm out on Vásquez's face. There was no semblance of the worry that she'd had before. Now she was riding high, 40 foot tall and dominating the last bastion of hope this prison might have had. Vásquez sputtered on the thick, mucus like cum that wouldn't stop squirting all over her. She'd lost count of the orgasm Amber had wrung out on her face. Her skin was greasy, hair shining, matted to her face, covered in the stuff. Drenched. She needed to find a way out. A way to get out without having Amber grow again. It was becoming too hard to breath now. Impossible even. Impossible to plan. "Y'know, I'm so happy you came back to life. It's just so perfect that I get to kill you again." Amber let out a pleasured moan and continued. "Fuck your face. Humiliate you. Fuck, imagine if your little friend could see you now?"

Something broke in Vásquez. She'd tried to hold back that fury like she always did. Like Maria had told her to. Like the penitentiary counsellors had told her to. But, as more and more adrenaline poured into her system, oxygen deprivation meaning her body was struggling. Not only did planning become impossible, so did keeping it in check. Impossible to claw back the red wave of blood lust that had been overflowing her earlier. That last quip did it.

Her struggles had simmered as fatigue set in, but now a new source of motivation brought her attempts back up to full power. And something else edged her beyond even that. She could actually feel her body heating up as jet fuel pumped into her veins, senses growing sharper. If Amber wasn't so preoccupied, she might have seen the golden hue brightening along Vásquez's vascular arms. The latina slapped her hands to Amber's massive rump, eliciting a giddy, "ohoooo! Kinky, Vásquez! C'mon, give me some more!" The pale woman continued to goad her toy, still pleasuring herself on her face. She didn't realise the subtle creaking beneath her.

Vásquez's fingers dug into the behemoth of a porcelain ass. She gripped hard and her arms and chest flexed larger, stirations of muscle bulging and tearing and regrowing. Amber quaked a little, feeling her chair moving now. Feeling the breasts and pectoral swelling. She looked down between her legs to see two blazing balls of gold burning up at her from the sea of wavy black hair. Boulder like biceps expanded around Amber's shins and she felt herself moving upwards. Vásquez was lifting her. Vásquez was fucking lifting her. The forgotten worry bloomed back to life.

Heels ripped through the concrete, legs surging longer and thicker, ass distending out into the ground, hips widening. Vásquez's feet pressed against a corridor wall and her knees bent monentarily, until the force of her growth brought it down and her legs continued their outward expansion.

Amber felt a wave of panic, the fear and doubt from earlier doubling. She jumped up, unsteady with Vásquez pushing her, and stood with her feet either side of the latina's chest. From this higher vantage point she could see more. The network of veins, glowing brightly, contrasting against coppery skin. Vásquez was throbbing bigger, weeding taller, stretching wider. And the look om her face was a mask of insidious malevolence. Amber watched in dismay as Vásquez's lats spilled outwards towards her ankles, woven titanium building. She could see muscles visibly tearing and repairing in front of her. This wasn't G37 at all.

Eyes bursting from their sockets, Amber took a half second to react. She needed to stop this before it began. Lifting her foot high, Amber brought her weight down on Vásquez's head. Or she tried to. The latina's reactions were lightning, hands coming up to catch the car sized foot. Unable to stop the weight completely, her elbows crashed into the concrete, sweaty sole about a hands width away from her nose. Amber pushed harder, tiptoeing on her other foot, full weight on the prone woman.

All it did was force Vásquez's body to struggle more. More stress. More response. Tanned fingers flexed around the pale foot and, spurting erratically, forcing Amber's knee to bent. She became an animal trapped in a snare, furiously tugging her foot free. It took three attempts to tear her foot out of Vásquez's grasp and immediately she tried to stomp over and over. Every desperate attempt was blocked until the woman laid on the floor perfectly timed a roll and Amber's foot crashed to earth, shaking the prison.

A 31 foot tall bundle of muscle moved with far more agility and dexterity than it appeared it should be able to. A well oiled machine, Vásquez curled into a ball, getting her legs under her, and sprung up. Amber turned in time to be greeted with an upper cut which snapped her head back, braid whipping around. She returned fire with a hook that sliced nothing but air. Vásquez was all instinct now. All violence. All murder. The liver blow did major damage, pulverising the organ and turning ribs into confetti.

The aryan faltered, staggering through concrete. She threw a punch that could level a building but Vásquez caught it with her elbow, causing Amber's knuckle to sink in, metacarpal erupting out of the top of her hand, white bone almost matching her skin. She needed distance. She needed to heal. To grow. Her leg flashed in a horizontal blur, a kick into Vásquez's abdomen made a sound like a gun shot. But Vásquez didn't budge. Amber was the one to move. She sent herself backwards, as if she'd just tried to kick down a steel wall.

Vásquez rushed into the space that had made and barge the other woman, a freight train sending her flying back through their path of destruction. The predator stalked closer, movements slow and precise, watching Amber like a weak doe seperates from the herd.

Amber didn't understand it. She didn't understand what was happening. This moron was just going to let this happen? She was going to slow down and give Amber a chance? Hope flooded in against the fear. This was it. This was her chance to turn the tide. She scuttled backwards, pulling herself away, lilac arteries gleaming. The bone in her hand was sucked back in, knuckle emerging back into place. Ribs rebuilt. Then came that rush. That tightening.

It was short lived. Vásquez had appeared to teleport at just the right moment. She punted Amber in the head like a soccer ball, filling the woman's mouth with blood, cracking teeth. The growth never got to start, G37 being repurposed to healing again.

Blue eyes danced wildly, trauma battering her brain. Through the pain and the mental mist, Amber was questioning how this was possible. The fear she was feeling was visceral. The type of fear you have in a nightmare as the impossible became reality and the world begins to end around you. Her heart was racing, sweat cold on her skin as she clutched to consciousness. Rays from the sun, blasting through the clouds, could almost be mistaken for Vásquez's eyes staring at her. The lab. G37. She needed it. Fingers sank into concrete, nails red and raw as she scratched and dragged herself. But Vásquez walked along side her, each foot step bigger and heavier than the last. She grabbed the long, off white braid and pulled on it, bringing Amber forwards the way a bitter owner would drag a dog. "Get up." She said, hauling the still larger woman along. A fist to the back of the cranium sent bursts and flashes of colour through Amber's eyes. She went down bouncing off the floor. Her braid nearly ripped from her head as it was pulled in the opposite direction. "I said get up."

"I know what you're trying to do." Seethed Vásquez. She used the braid to keep Amber's suspended and lent down to bring her face to her ear. "Look how close you are." She pointed to the lab. "So close. You're going to die so, so close to getting mo-" Amber swung as much force as she could into Vásquez's crotch. The latina let out an exhale that rattled, pained. Amber wanted to laugh. Vásquez was like Icarus. Too close to the sun, too arrogant, too much hubris. It would kill her.

The aryan bulldozed into the lab, falling into it and crushing one of the few remaining scientists. She didn't even notice the bloody splotch on her breast. Her heart soared when she saw the bags of G37. Three IV bags brimming with purple. Greedily she stuffed them into her mouth, swallowing them like pills. She'd done it. She'd won.

Vásquez caught up, crushing a fleeing scientist underfoot. Amber had turned, laid on her back with a content, cat that ate the canary grin.

"Too late!" She giggled, flipping Vásquez off with her right hand. She'd already won. So why did Vásquez look so unphased?

Amber was too slow to react as her nemisis grabbed that extended middle finger in one hand. With the other artillery came down, a punch that dazzled the over confident aryan. Vásquez stepped over Amber's body and let herself drop. The 35 foot tall latina was even heavier than before, crushing Amber's hips with the juggernaut weight of ultra dense muscle and bone. Vásquez twisted her hips and palmed Amber's skull, driving it into the concrete, a nail into wood. She'd placed her hand carefully, base of her palm along Amber's cheek, thumb under her eye and fingers going up into her hair. One blue eye could still see her, the other half of her face buried in the ground. Wrenching that right arm straight along Amber's side, by the finger, Vásquez pinned the forearm under her knee.

Now she leaned in after her, like earlier, bringing her mouth to her ear. Breast pushing against breast, breath washing over Amber's face. Vásquez's body was hot. A furnace pressed against her, Amber flailed, the sinking realisation that she couldn't get free settling in. She could feel Vásquez still growing, that heat spreading over more of her body. Skin crawling across skin, every extra ounce of the latina enveloping her more. Vásquez's fingers inching around her scalp, her breasts gradually matching the swollen marble they sat on, red woods flexing girthier around her hips. Amber was hyper ventilating. But it was the words that she said that really sent liquid nitrogen dread coursing through Amber.

"You think I'm fucking stupid?" Poisonous, black tar words, hot like the breath that carried them. Vásquez snapped the middle finger, making Amber howl. "You think that little cunt punch really did anything?" Snap. Another finger. More cries. "I let you get here." Snap. "I'm letting you heal so I can break you again." Snap. "And again." She grabbed the thumb now, breaking it, back towards Amber's wrist with a gruesome sound. "And again. Until I burn that purple shit out of your fucking veins." Amber was in a frenzy, whimpering, crying, trying with every molecule of her body to get free. But Vásquez matched her size and dwarfed her strength. Dizzy with pain, the aryan's single ice blue eye grew unfocused. She saw the shadow of Vásquez's thumb.

Vásquez pushed her thumb into the same eye she'd pierced with the baton. Amber's animal like wail was the only thing that dimmed the red curtain of blood. The smile stretching across her enraged features could freeze the ocean. She used her thumb, sunk into Amber's skull, to turn her head up to face her. "You thought you'd won because you were bigger?" Amber's ruined right hand was released, her head now held by two hands. "I beat the fuck out of you over and over again before all of this." Vásquez bashed the back of Amber's head against the floor.

Once

Twice.

Thrice.

She paused to talk. "It wasn't because I was bigger. It's because I was better." She hissed. "And if you're perfect..." The last spiteful slam was the hardest. Vásquez let go of the limp body and stood over Amber, shuddering passed 40 foot tall. "WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MAKE ME?!" She roared, mirroring the motions Amber had made earlier. Unlike the pale woman, she succeeded in stomping Amber's head into the ground.

That marked Amber's first death of the day.