Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Tigress Shapeshifter... I am a killer at heart...

First day of March greetings, Shapeshifter lovers...
in like a lamb, out like a lion... or vice versa... lots of shapeshifting weather this time of year.


WARNING! Big Cat Violence Ahead

Tigress Shapeshifter... I am a killer at heart...

The morning sun transmutes the ocean to rippling shimmer. I stand in my human form, scenting the long stretch of beach. The tang of salt, and a few seabirds, mix with the dominant odor of oil. Worse, poisons infuse every molecule I now sniff into my nostrils.

The internet headline I found recently unfurls in my mind like a banner: BP Carpet Bombed The Gulf With Corexit Poisoning Marine Life ...Feb 20, 2011 ... WARNING: Corexit may affect genetic material. May cause adverse reproductive effects and birth defects based on animal testing.

Seeing Zurroc, my black tiger lover, wave me in his direction, I trot toward him. The damp sand cushions my footfalls, a delicious sensation.

Great Goddess, how I wish we had come here for the pleasures of rolling with each other in the sun-baked sand, rather than to view the proof. But, the fangs of termination require a high level of responsibility.

Once, I reach Zurroc’s side, the stench of death hangs heavy in the humid air and I recoil at what I must witness.

If you know me, you know I am no stranger to death. I am a killer at heart. The taste of an enemy’s blood is ambrosia. Rending their flesh into red ribbons of gore excites me, a nirvana for my senses.

Yet, I do not kill for the sake of killing. I do not kill innocents. Or innocence.

Strewn before us are baby dolphins. Their tiny stillborn bodies litter the beach like so much discarded trash.

I fall to my knees, retching. Unable to stop, I clutch my stomach while Zurroc crouches beside me, his hand on my shoulder.

The sight is too much. I clench my eyelids tight trying to rid myself of the all too horrific images.

But, all I can think about is how these babies were cast from their mother’s womb like garbage – never to swim beside her and play in their ocean home – never to grow, and become the magnificent loving creatures they are, as part of the Divine’s creation.

Yes, I am tigress...a predator. Yet, forever, I will roar. ROARRRRR against this mass murdering of life. This fundamental betrayal of Life, itself, by those devoid of any real heart.

I swear on my eternal spirit, THOSE who have ordered this Corexit atrocity will pay. I will have some measure of justice.

I dry heave until I must force myself to stop. Death like this, by the evil use of a toxin, is not a pretty sight.

Finally, I rise with the assistance of my black tiger. Tears still swimming in my eyes, I turn to him, and cling.

His ready embrace enfolds me, and I feel his agony, his fury. Yet, his love for me is first. Always first.

When I raise my gaze to him, we merge as woman and man. Then, he nods once.

“They are arriving.” Zurroc faces me toward a bare dot skimming over the ocean, not far above the horizon.

Jogging side by side, we return to my invisible jet. He leaps inside as pilot while I launch beside him. Already, my killer side is roaring to the surface. I sizzle with savagery. My claws ache to form.

In moments, we slice through the air toward the luxury helicopter. Yeah, they exist, and remain unknown to most of the common folk.

This one, flying at nearly jet speed, is several steps above Mercedes-Benz’s new EC145 Luxury Helicopter. Close to silent, and silvery white, it blends in with the sky. Except to our feline eyesight.

Prey, I think, as we bank and circle. Zurroc zooms us parallel, then positions us a bit higher above the small behemoth on its way to Orlando.

The fierce urgency to attack phases me easily through the door of the jet. I am flying through the air, my giant paws forming, my deadly claws ripping the moist atmosphere.

While in free fall, my tail acts like a rudder and my fangs lengthen to super prehistoric size. Yeah, baby, I sing to myself, bring forth your saber-tooth side.

Before landing, I sense the disbelief of those inside. I wonder why since I know for a fact they’ve been atop a mountain plateau in South America, and have seen the surviving saber-tooth tigers.

Okay, I look different than the species on Earth. I’m plunging toward them, nearly a ton of enraged tigress. My eyes glow like orange flame.

I am ready to kill.

Seizing the helicopter’s large landing skid with my powerful front legs, I hang on as my back paws get a good solid grip. All the while I use my weight to unbalance the mechanical beast, rocking it slightly.

I rear upwards on the strength of my hind legs, then throw myself forward. My chest slams against the front side of the huge helicopter. Furiously, my claws rake the curved slick window.

I hear their terrified screams. The women. The men frantically grab weapons designed to decimate an elephant herd. But, it takes long moments to power those babies up. Moments they don’t have.

Screaming with the wild rage inside me, I open my jaws wide. My head angles back just enough to aim my colossal fangs. As my monstrous head drops, the formidable daggers that are my fangs, crash through the bullet-proof glass.

Bada bing. Bada boom. You traitors to humanity. You, who hate all life on Mother Earth.

In a nirvana of violence, I claw my way through the windshield just as the side cannons are being activated. Before they fire at my furry butt, I swipe at the control panel.

The two pilots barely avoid my claws, and I smell the fetid release of their bowels as they stumble backwards. Four of the globalist tyrants rush past them. Aiming their weapons, they wait for the red light so they can shoot me into particle oblivion.

I glimpse their perfectly groomed white hair, their cold soulless eyes, as I relentlessly tear at the control panel. I must destroy the digital components. Completely.

And, no, I’m not going down with this sky ship. Not into that toxic ocean soup.

Feeling the unit begin to dislodge, seeing the fine spray of sparks, I boom a snarl. Savagely, repeatedly, I strike with my claws.

With backward momentum, the panel breaks loose, sailing over my head. Everything inside the helicopter fizzles, goes dark. Their high tech machinery is now lifeless.

Twisting, I dive for the landing skid as hell blazes above me. Their weapons blast at empty space, the pulses bright arcs of electricity.

To hasten, and make certain of their demise, I bounce my heavily muscled weight on top of the skid. The helicopter rocks, then wobbles as it descends faster and faster.

Zurroc, I mind-scream to him, even as I leap and stretch into the mystic blue. No, there is no net between me and the deep, deep waters that kill.

When I glance downward, he’s there, my black tiger. He hovers my homeworld jet beneath me, close to the ocean’s surface. Concentrating, I morph fast.

In moments, I phase through the top, and plop into my seat. Pricks of pain cover my human flesh.

I don’t care. I hug myself just to know that I am whole, really here, and undamaged.

Zurroc watches me with his peripheral vision. I know he wants to make certain I am okay.

“Into the keep of the briny deep, my tigress. Poetic justice for those who ordered the death of the Gulf.”

“A bed of oil so deep, with the poor toxic fishies they sleep.” I lean back, and a long sigh escapes me. “Ah, poetic justice, may it always reign supreme.”

I clasp his offered hand, but shiver a bit from the fatigue now claiming me.

“You were incomparably ferocious as a sabertooth, my Kytaira. But, it overtaxed you, didn’t it?”

I hesitate only for a moment. “Yes,” I admit. Then, I say something I’ve never said to him, my man, my black tiger. “Take me home. Take care of me.”



Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Serena Shay said...

Yikes, I sure want to keep on Kytaira's good side! ~wink~

Great flash

Say, is that a pic of one studmuffiny highlander I see???

Savanna Kougar said...

Yeah, Kytaira goes after the 'really' bad guys and gals, the mass murderers who own the world. She's all about REAL JUSTICE.

Isn't he sexy as all Highlander get out? I found the pic looking for sabertooth tigress... I think it's from a vid game, from what I could tell. I didn't see any real clear explanation. But, I absolutely LOVE IT!!!

Serena Shay said...

Ooh, love it, adore it...wanna make it my screen saver or wallpaper! ~Whew~ there is just something about that man!!

Rebecca Murray said...

The pic is from the movie "10,000 BC". Great flash, Savanna!

Pat C. said...

My comic-book-corrupted brain sees a survivor crawling onto the shore, mutated into a hideous inhuman thing bent on revenge ... but that's just me.

Holy crow, that gal kicks butt, buttocks, ass and every form and permutation! Go, Kytaira!

I thought that pic looked familiar. I didn't see the movie, but I remember that image from the commercials.

Rebecca Murray said...

The movie wasn't bad but wasn't all that great, either. Decent amount of eye candy. I watched it mainly to see all the prehistoric animals running around. =D

Savanna Kougar said...

Rebecca, thanks! I knew the pic was from somewhere significant. I didn't see that movie. Maybe, one of these days.

But, yeah, that man has got the sexy quotient... in spades... mixed messages, but he's got me flummoxed in a good way.

Savanna Kougar said...

Rebecca, that's why I'd watch it too. Luv me those prehistoric critters.

Savanna Kougar said...

Pat, I say go for it! Because actually, it's a real genetic possibility... could even be happening... lots of black ops clean up crews for those kind of 'possibilities'... and the way you'd write 'mr./ms bent on revenge' would be spectacular.

Pat C. said...

But it's your story.

I was looking at this as the opening chapter of a novel, and Mutated Freak Guy/Gal becoming the "mess" Kytaira has to clean up. It never ends, does it?

About the pic: maybe the guy could be Zurroc, and that's their foreplay.

Savanna Kougar said...

Naw, it never ends... for those superheroines and superheroes. That's one reason I love writing their stories.

Foreplay, oh yeah! Though, that gloriously turn-on pic isn't how Zurroc shows up in my mind... so,he'll have to be another one of my heroine's hero. Or a hero's hero... whatever your preference.

Kytaira's story has been going on for quite awhile now. This is just the latest chapter.

My thought was either your own spin-off from the scene, or a completely different story that features the mutant freakazoid.

"Writing is my Drug. A fixed Addiction." said...

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Savanna Kougar said...

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