by grapehyacinth

Part 3: Drusilla

So here she was, Drusilla Foxworth, once nearly an Olympic contestant, now a glorified custodian of a power plant. And after the power surge the four overnight workers had just encountered, Drusilla was more angry than anything else. What had really happened? Did that bitch Angela mess up the controls? Did flighty Nelly go off daydreaming while hell broke loose? And Sylvie...well, she was probably off watching the fish tank in the lobby like she usually did...

And Dr. Simon Vance, the boss...what the hell was he doing here in the middle of the night? Probably looking to get some alone time with Angela...or Nelly...or...

She shuddered, thinking again of how out of her league she was with these science- types. She had always been a jock, and she had been at the top of her game in volleyball and field hockey. She was Olympic material, and everyone knew it, and then she broke her leg at practice. The leg had to be wired together as it had shattered so badly, and she never fully recovered.

So here she was...

Everyone went different shades of hysterical after the power surge. She, however, was not – she seemed fine, and as she limped away from the break room back to her station off the boiler room, she noticed that the achiness she often felt in her old injury had vanished.

Well, there it was then. A positive to getting irradiated, or whatever the hell had happened. Probably nothing. Although Sylvie was having a strange skin reaction...

And, she had to admit, she herself had felt very itchy right after it occurred...

She studied her arm. In the dim light, nothing looked any different. Running her hand over her skin made her wonder if she was slightly hairier, but who really cared what her arms looked like, anyway? It was not like she had a boyfriend. The last guy she was with left her for a nineteen-year-old. And he was forty-one. Men were disgusting.

She sat back at her desk, watching the dials move on the heater across the room. She had been thrown this position as a pity maneuver – her father was old friends with the boss. She had started out cleaning the facility, but Dr. Vance had taught her the ins and outs of power plants, and she was now supervisor and inspector all rolled into one. Well, she inspected stuff like the boilers and the less-scientific machines, but still, the title sounded nice.

Something was buzzing. The damn steam valve was loose again. She was never strong enough to tighten it herself. She walked over to the valve, noticing that strangely, she was not limping. Before she could ponder this, she experienced an odd tingle in her arm as she twisted the valve. “I...need to be more...stronger!” she mumbled, and her arm expanded all around in a display of perfect musculature.

She closed the valve as easily as if it had been coated with butter.

Gliding back over to her desk in pride, she exclaimed, “Damn, that's awesome! Guess it's another side effect.” She smiled. “You get superheroes from radiation, so maybe I'm gonna be one.” She rubbed the taut muscles, admiring them. “I wanted this, I got it. Now I want the muscles all over!”

With that, her whole body was growing and expanding, and she let out a triumphant yell. “Yes! More!” Her clothes grew tight, the tops of her short-sleeved shirt cutting off her circulation until they simply tore open at the seams. Abdominal muscles worthy of a prized bodybuilder rippled into view by simply tearing through the fabric of her shirt. “I never liked this piece of crap shirt anyway!” she screamed with glee, removing the tattered remnants and tossing them to the floor. When her bra snapped off, however, she picked the shirt back up and draped it over herself to cover her larger, exquisite breasts.

Her expanding legs quickly made short work of her pants. They were actually scrubs, which Simon had gently suggested she wear as it was more professional than jeans. She watched in awe as the fabric from her waist to her ankles simply unraveled and fell apart from the pressure.

Her height topped out at a nice six foot four, but her muscles were still going...

“Holy hell! These damned shoes are killing me!” Before she could wrench them off, both exploded open at nearly the same time. They made a satisfying crack as their leather literally blew inside out.

“I need to see myself!” Drusilla bounded across the room, her body so powerful that it seemed she was flying between steps. When she reached the bathroom, the mirror was too low, so she tried to adjust it.

Grasping both sides and pushing a slight bit resulted in her ripping it out of the wall.

“Shit!” she shrieked in delight, holding the mirror above her head, then twirling it like a baton. Exhilarated, she then plopped it down in front of her and examined her new, perfect body.

“Hot damn! I'm like...the Hulk or something!” she scrutinized her arm, almost embarrassed at how perfect it appeared.

Then she grinned. Things were going to be a bit different from now on.

The next morning, Drusilla made her way home from work without bothering to first check up on her other co-workers. Honestly, she didn't care about any of them, and now that she had this superhuman ability and perfect, strong body, the world was her oyster! She could do anything!

She fished her cell phone from her pocket and dialed Simon's number. Receiving his voice mail, she left a proud message. “Simon, I don't need you anymore. I quit.”

She entered her house, threw open her bedroom window, and fell into a contented sleep.

“So you don't need me anymore, huh, Dru?”

The voice of Simon Vance roused her from her sleep. “Well, I didn't mean you, I mean the job...” she looked toward the bedroom doorway, but no one was there. “How'd you get in?” She rubbed her eyes, but didn't see him anywhere in the room. “Simon, where are you?”

Something fluttered at the window, and Drusilla turned towards it confusedly.

“Hi, Dru.”

A crow waved its wing at her from the windowsill.

Drusilla sat bolt upright in the bed. “Goddamn bird is talking to me. Am I dreaming?”

The bird flew across the room and onto her bed. “Nope. I'm still Simon. I just turned myself into a crow.” He turned around, displaying his plumage. “Like me in black?”

“What the hell is this, some kind of joke?” she yelled, swatting at the bird.

“Hey, cut it out! I just wanted to check on you. Why the quitting?”

The woman pondered the bird momentarily. “If you're Simon, what's my Dad's name?”

“Charles Foxworth. Mom is Theresa Logan, from Fairfield, went to Merriweather High, has a mole on her left shoulder..”

“Simon, you sicko! My mom's moles are none of your business... Holy shit, you can turn into a bird?”

“I can turn into anything, apparently.”

“Be a...a...giraffe!”

“Sure thing!” The bird grew orange, sprouted four legs, and its long neck formed, shooting into the air and smashing its head into the ceiling. “Goddamnit, too tall,” the giraffe swore in Simon's voice.

“Shit! Be a...I don't know...um, Barbie doll!”

“What the hell, Dru?”

“Do it!” she yelled with a very amused smile.

A leggy doll now lay frowning at her feet, and she picked it up, stroking it in wonder. “You feel this?”

“Damn straight I do. Now move your fingers a bit higher and I'll be a very happy Barbie!”

“Ugh, you sick bastard,” Drusilla tossed him to the bed in disgust.

“Hey, watch the plastic, here!” The doll grew back into a bird. “I still feel stuff even if I'm inanimate!” The bird yawned.

“Long night, Barbie?” Drusilla asked nastily.

“Oh, you have no idea. The experimentation on my own, plus helping you girls...So, dearest, what exactly did we do to you that made you quit?”

She studied him a moment, gratitude welling inside. “It was you? The power thing?”

He smiled.

“You've...healed me, Simon.” Drusilla walked several paces, then paused. The exaggerated muscles plus her increased stature had apparently disappeared as she had slept, leaving her to assume that perhaps she could gain them and lose them at will. She would have to test this out. “I feel wonderful. No pain, no limping. And check this out!”

Simon's eyes widened as Drusilla's body expanded into that of a female bodybuilder. “Oh, now I see why you want to quit,” he said quietly. “But you can't. What else can you do like that? Join a moving company?”

Drusilla's happiness quickly dissolved. “Well, I...”

“Well, you what? Will you model? That's a tough game. What can muscles really do for you? Being strong won't make you president. Seriously, what else can you do? You've missed the boat on the Olympics...You're way too old...” Simon obviously realized his mistake in bringing this sore point up. He covered his mouth with his wing. “Sorry...”

Drusilla grew extremely angry. Sweat began to pour down her face, and she felt like her skin was on fire. Her hands formed fists, and she could swear she was growing larger...

“Drusilla,” Simon gasped in amazement, “You're turning into a hairy beast!”

She glanced down at herself, realizing he was quite right. She had become hirsute and greenish, and the Incredible Hulk description had become much more fitting. She was not sure whether or not she liked this new side to her abilities or not, but she was even more imposing than before, and if this was controllable as well, she could definitely scare the hell out of anyone she wanted...

“Look at you! You're grotesque!”

Grotesque? She didn't really want to be grotesque...maybe just a bit scary, but...

“Go back to the muscle-girl you! That was a turn-on. This, well, I mean, you're green, for God's sake!”

Further hurt by the verity of his observation, she lunged at him. “You little shit! You were always jealous of the fact that I was going to be in the Olympics! You figured you'd lose your good friend in my dad because we'd have to move, and you wished you could be athletic...”

“What the hell are you talking about? I wanted you to go!”

“No you didn't, and you think I'm stupid, and I'm a janitor basically...”

“You're very good at what you do–”

Drusilla grabbed his slight body in her hands tightly. “I...hate...you...”

“OW! Dru, you bitch, you broke my wing!”

Fascinated, she drew back, watching the bird hold up its wing at an odd angle. “Really?” It had seemed remarkably easily, like breaking a model airplane. “Does it hurt?”

“Damn it, of course it does!” he yelled angrily, nursing it against his side.

“Good! Let's get the other one!”

“Get away from me!” The bird began to shudder and grow, and Drusilla realized Simon was trying to change his form. The feathers became fur, and he was thrown onto all fours. Simon was a lion now, and his injury seemed to be instantly healed.

Shaking his mane, he growled tauntingly at her.

“You schmuck, really?” She grew as tall as she could, flexing her muscles to their fullest, and then she attacked the lion.

As much as Simon's body was leonine, his mind was very much still the passive scientist. He got in a few bites and scratches, but she had him pinned down impressively quickly. “There, you shithead. Don't you dare try to hurt me. I don't care what you become. I'm going to kick your ass no matter what you are.”

“Then I will fire you.”

“Fuck you, Simon.”

Simon flicked his tail in irritation. “I don't know what's with you women. You're all freaking out on me while I'm trying to make you amazing. So unappreciative,” he grumbled. “Dru, come on. Let me get up.”

“Why, so you can attempt to maul me unsuccessfully again?”

“You bitch!” The lion became Simon again, although he had no clothes on. Drusilla glanced at his male anatomy, unimpressed.

“That yours, or did you change it to make it bigger and better?”

He slapped at her. “You want it, O Incredible Miss Hulk?”

Drusilla delivered a blow so hard to his head that Simon fell unconscious.

“There. That's better. That's the way I like you best.”

Drusilla sat at the table, watching over her unconscious boss. She felt guilty for all she had said and done, because Simon had always taken care of her, and he always was good to her and her family.

His phone rang, and she fished it out of his pocket. The caller ID indicated that it was Sylvie.

She picked up the phone curiously. Sylvie never would think of calling Simon on his private cell phone. She was shocked Simon even had her number on it.

“Sylvie? It's actually Drusilla. I got Simon's phone. What's up?”

There was a sound of sploshing water. “Help me,” someone whispered, and the phone clicked off.