The Vespidian

Arc 1 Contamination

Chapter 7

"Wait a minute! Turnips are one thing, and I still don't get it, but what the hell does Nicky Mouse have to do with anything?" I said, wobbling to my feet.

"Da. Nicky Mouse, my hero." Molotov almost looked shy, and she was blushing! So damned cute. What the hell is this adorable creature? No, don't look her in the eyes!

"Don't fuck with me!" I shouted, resisting the urge to hug her. "What does a Russian spy know about a kid's cartoon in America?"

Her face suddenly went from an angel to the devil. “Suka nyet like Nicky Mouse?! How you no like Nicky Mouse?"

She stepped towards me with burning eyes, and I grasped the table to throw at her. "Calm down! I never said I don't like Nicky Mouse, alright, but it is a kids show. Why do you like it so much?"

"Wait, you don't know?" Said Molotov, stopping in her tracks. "Nicky Mouse was a member of first American Hero Team one hundred and forty-two years ago. This made Russia make Super Soldiers to combat them. I was one of Super Soldiers, though back then, I looked very different. Nicky Mouse was deadly assassin who had heightened senses and reflexes to point that she could dodge bullets and lasers. She could contour her body to fit through things like octopus."

"I never heard that. I only remember her from that cartoon. What was it again, Team Freedom? Well, that and Nicky Mouse Land, but that is just an amusement park for ten-year-olds. She was a superhero?"

"She was not in history class?"

"Nope. Well, I don't remember too much from then."

"Seems that Chimera has taken deeper root in America than I thought. Not even teaching about Nicky Mouse such shame must be Chimera changing things to look better for cause. They did this in Russia, started with the schools, changed history in books, took things out, and put things in. Taught the children so that they would not know any better, then they taught their children, and the lie became truth. It is the insidious lowering of the iron curtain. I thought that Nicky Mouse cartoon was just nice remembrance of her, to think it had more sinister motives."

"That is right, in college, they had people teaching business 101 that had no idea how to successfully run a business. I dropped out because of that, well, and that cult thing that was going on."

"Cults are rathe common these days, thanks to the Puppeteer. The Globalists, Chimera, any of this ringing a bell to you?"

I shook my head, and she laughed lowly. It was not a happy sound. "Da. Certainly, a civi would not know. Seems things are far worse than I thought. Then again, I have not been to America for twenty years. I will have to bring this up with organization to start rooting out sleeper cells."

Molotov sat down with a gloomy face, and I sat across from her. "I don't get it. If you two were enemies, why do you like her."

She glanced at me, smirking. "Like her? Nyet. I was in love with her. She opened my eyes to glory of capitalism and to soul-crushing despair that is communism."

My mouth opened a couple times as I gawked at Molotov. "I feel like I am missing something. Wait, you are a lesbian?"

She slapped me; compared to her usual strength, it was nothing, but it still left an imprint on the side of my face. She laughed. "Nyet. I was not always little girl. I used to be number one spy for Russia, my cover was bodybuilder, and my name was Dimitry Kurvinski. One could say I was manliest, sexiest man in world circa 1988. I was on cover of sexiest man three times in row before terrible accident. To think it has already been twenty-two years."

I paused for a long moment there, "Wait. 22 years?"

"Da."

"That can't be. It is 2111. 1988 was over a hundred years ago."

"Huh- I suppose it is. Time tends to fly away when you don't age. How about that. Anyway, I was sexiest man In the world."

In my surprise, I pointed at her with all four of my hands. She glared at me and moved her hand to go for a finger. I snapped my arms back, waving them like jellyfish while backpedaling. She got up, cracking her knuckles.

"Don't hurt me! I was just surprised. Why are you a little girl? Were you changed by Mutigene as well?" I asked.

"Nyet. It was not Mutigene that caused this. I am not stupid enough to play with glowing goo." Said, Molotov.

"I didn't do it on purpose... I fell in it! Besides, I still can't believe that you were a man."

"Da. Can't you tell by my panty-dropping voice? I was sexy, man, I would bet million dollar I could have bent you over kitchen table. I miss Nicky. She was rough in sack and tried to claw my balls off twice before I fucked her hard enough to have her begging for more."

I screamed, covering my antenna. "My childhood! Stop raping my childhood! Oh god! All I can see is a little girl pounding her. Give me back my childhood!"

Molotov laughed heartily. "Nyet. Imagine hunky man, not little girl. What is wrong with you? That is right, I just made your childhood my bitch, just like Nicky Mouse. You are funny, Wasp Girl. Don't worry, I will take good care of you."

"You monster!" I cried. "I will never look at Nicky Mouse the same again."

Molotov grinned happily at my despair. "There, there little wasp girl. I will be gentle. Now then, enough talk, time to train."

"Are you going to break my fingers again?" I cringed.

"Nyet. First, I want you to hit this bag until you are used to your new body. Then, I want you to try and hit me, don't worry, I will block. Da. This calls for some music." She said, placing a boombox on the table.

I stared for a moment, then pointed. "Where the fuck did that come from? What the hell, a boombox? They don't even make those anymore. Shit, this thing is a fucking relic. Did you steal it from a museum? What year is it, 1980? Don't you have a phone or something that can play music?"

She glared at me. "You has problem with my super secret boombox. I will have you know I have killed many men with this. It shoots lasers and plays groovy music to slay premium pussy. How you think I got in Nicky Mouse's pants?"

"I thought you said you were a sexy beast? Why would you need a boombox to get laid?"

She scowled, putting her hands on her hips, "You know nothing of the magical power of funk. It sets the groove and loosens things up. Chances of wild mambo increase by forty percent."

"And I don't wanna know. Where did you pull it out of your ass?"

"Nyet. Size of my ass is far too inferior to hold something of this magnitude." Scoffed Molotov, placing both hands on the belt around her waist, she pulled out a rocket launcher. "Dr. Tesla invented dimensional compacting technology. I like his technology, allows me to carry weapon for every occasion. This utility belt is premium, real-deal technology. You could buy personal army for same price, worth every penny. In fact, watching you is part of contract to pay it off. I could just pay it outright, but easier to work it off. I like my money after all."

"That is pretty damned amazing. How much can it fit?" I asked, looking closely at the small pockets of metal.

She grinned, returning the weapon. "Da! Each compartment can carry five thousand pounds. Weight of things carried is nullified so long as it is within dimensional pocket. If need be, I could stuff body inside to hide it, and that is what second left pocket is used for. Good to keep things organized."

"Do I get one of those too?" I asked with sparkling eyes, though to the outside, they were probably glinting with treachery.

"Da. It will be most important gear you ever receive."

"When do I get one?"

"When I say your training is up to snuff. Currently, you are, but squishy banana. You must become hard like turnip. Now then, let's funky."

"Wait, is this a montage?" I thought for a moment and shouted with glee. "I always wanted to do a montage!"

"Too bad cheeky wasp girl. This my sex music, and I am going to fuck you, just like Nicky Mouse." Laughed Molotov.

She turned on the boombox and disco music... Oh god, it is sex music! I prepared myself to flee, knowing her it could be anything even.. even turnip. No! That's why she keeps talking about them! It all made terrible sense now. I felt like a deer in headlights as she wolfishly walked toward me. Every step she took, I took three back until I was cornered like a rat... just like Nicky Mouse. Noooo! She lazily approached, knowing I could not escape. All the while, my imagination was going south fast. Be gentle! I don't know if I am a virgin or not!?

"Don't be scared. It won't hurt much. Now here, look at how I punch, and then you do the same." Said Molotov, clenching her fist in front of my face.

I was scared, but then she opened and closed it, pointing out where and how it worked. I realized I was safe, kinda. She was an excellent teacher, surprisingly. This was extremely helpful, considering that I had never gotten into a real fight in my life. Well, there was some high school shit, but that wasn't anything life-threatening. I would never have known not to tuck my thumb. She watched me as I did it. I was having difficulties controlling all four arms at the same time; bottom righty kept trying to play with her hair.

She hovered by my side, watching every little thing. When she was not snapping my fingers, threatening to rape me, or death glaring at me, Molotov was the very image of an angel. So long as she never opened her mouth, I could keep my delusions of my adorable little coach and completely disregard reality. Yes, yes, I was completely trying to run away from reality. Cuteness to counteract the cruelty of my predicament. I really am going off the deep end, aren't I? Interacting with someone, even if they enjoyed my pain was good. I think this is the start of a terribly abusive relationship... I see Stockholm written all over this.

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She laughed at my punches. The first glanced off of the hanging bag. She showed me that I needed to put my weight behind it and forcefully shift my body. This time the bag shot back from the hit and came right back, knocking me over. Molotov laughed, pointing at me. I glared at her, but then she stomped on my left hand. I was expecting my hand to be broken. Instead, it just stung. I realized that her super strength was not applied to her legs, only her arms.

So she did have a weakness. Unless this was all just a clever ruse to make me think I could try something! It did not matter, though; I would have to be fast enough to hit her.

She could seriously move like a blur despite not having super speed if she wanted to. She was like a damned ninja. I already knew that I could not catch her. My mind started working on the way to fight her. I would have to surprise her and go for the legs. Hopefully, I would have time to sting her before she ripped me in half. I wonder what the hell my venom even does anyway. It might be possible at some point, but getting my revenge was a distant dream for now.

The hours passed, and my form had improved to the point that she was no longer laughing at every move I made. Molotov watched every punch as though it were a counterfeit hundred, thoroughly and from every angle. She even started distracting me to test how focused I was. She dived below me to knock me off balance. I discovered that I do not sweat, which had me worried since it felt like I would soon overheat from the exertion. My abdomen shuddered, and every layer of plating shifted, opening up like vents. My flesh below was white and squishy, gross! Steam wafted out for a moment, then they closed, grinding back together. The stench was muskier than a locker room for a football team. I was no longer burning up, and it felt absolutely divine.

I realized that in the brief moment my armor was open, someone could severely damage my organs. Molotov had noticed as well with an evil grin. She knows my weakness now, not that she needed it. With her power, she could just punch through my body and leave a massive hole in me. She, however, had something very useful to tell me, I should end fights as quickly as possible without rushing; rushing led to sloppiness, which got people killed. If the fight lasted so long, I needed to cool down. I should fly away and come back after it is done. This was something else I would need to learn to control, mostly by muscle memory, but given enough time, this could be done consciously.

I sat down, taking a break, and Molotov opened a cooler with drinks in it. She tossed one at me; it felt like catching a baseball pitch. "Be gentle, will you? You almost broke a claw."

"Da. That was gentle. Want me to throw at you?"

I shook my head, opening the water and gulping it down in seconds. I lay back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. "Hey, Molotov do you think I can get some meat after this. I have been really craving some lately."

"Da. If you are good Wasp Girl, I will get us steak dinner." She said, taking a swig from her water. "If not, I will eat it in front of you and give you nothing, but turnips in dog bowl."

I sighed, rolling over. "Are you ever going to be nice to me?"

"Silly little girl, you still alive right? People typically don't even know they have crossed me before they are dead. It is troublesome to train and tame you. Much easier to simply pop head like zit. Besides, I know all about your regeneration ability, it is rather potent, granted if the limb is severed you will not regrow it. You can reattach it and open wound again to reconnect. As such, I can thoroughly torture you and your body will be fine, only damage will be mental scars. Perfect for conditioning you to resist torture."

"How do you know all of that?" I asked, sitting up.

"What you think happened during months of coma? They noticed your regeneration and started testing its limits. Be thankful we know otherwise you might have tried something stupid. By way, do not lose a limb, they tried to see if you could connect regular human arm and see if it would mutate.... did not go well. Arm bloated to size of balloon and imploded. Your body is only compatible with itself so no transplants. They even took out organs, but the things killed all transplant recipients. Human blood could be transfused to you though, strange thing is you can either ingest it or be injected by it, but it always ends up in a new organ that they called... what was again? Cardiac Muto? I think that was it, I was not actually paying attention, two months ago I thought you were going to be dead already. Thing about it is that it converts foreign blood into your blood, turns yellow and everything. By the way counting that thing you have three hearts. Biologically you are unique, new species. Do not be mad. The experimenting left no lasting damage."

I stared at her for a long moment, then threw up. My stomach churned, and it felt like worms were crawling under my exoskeleton, eating me alive. "They could have killed me. They butchered me and dissected me while I was still alive? If you are saying this just to fuck with me... I swear to god I will kill you!"

I rose with every muscle bristling with killing intent. I could smell a new stench pouring out from me. It was terrible, almost like a stink bug but far worse, bordering on skunk level. I could hear a rustling in the walls, like little legs scurrying. Molotov pinched her nose, warily looking at me. I took a step towards her, and she put a hand up to stop me.

"Don't do anything stupid. Every word was truth. We don't want to kill you." Molotov backed away still with her hand out; her other was on her utility belt. "In light of your mental state, I will go easier on you. How about that steak dinner? Eh, eh? No go? How about I take you to Nicky Mouse Land, just the two of us. Still no go? How about I call you name... Vespidian, just calm down. Please don't force me to do something we both will regret."

"Who the fuck is Vespidian?!" I growled, trudging towards her. "My name is Vesper!"

Her husky man voice became dark and void of emotion. "Vesper. Stop. Take one more step and I will rip head off. Vespidian is what Dr. Tesla and Dr. Arbor have decided to name your new race. It is also your code name since you were displeased by being called Wasp Girl. Good just stay right there and calm down."

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself; rationally, I knew she could destroy me if she wanted to. It would be a child picking the wings off of a fly. My emotions were jumbled, and instincts that were not there before were firing off. Flee, fight, hunt, kill, nest, and breed; such thoughts were wrestling and swirling around. A new terrifying thought came to me, how much of me was still left? Would I cease to be and be drowned in these new hormones and inherent impulses? How much of my brain changed? If what she said is true and only five percent of me is still human, should I even act human? What even is human? How do I even remember anything about being human? There were a lot of things missing that I felt I knew at one point. What did my mom's face look like? It was... oh god, I don't remember. NO, no, no! It has to be in there somewhere, come on think! My brain was having a meltdown, and I could vaguely feel the vents open, but they did not close. My whole body was shuddering. The stinger stabbed into the floor repeatedly, making a terrible metallic sound. I could feel the room growing hotter and wetter from the plumes of steam pouring out of me. My eyes rolled, and the world turned black.

~~~

This place again? I vaguely thought, gazing out at the perpetual black. Not even here was I human, my four arms stretched out, plucking at air. There was no silence in this place. At first, I thought the buzz was the absence of noise, but now I could hear clearly. It was the sound of tiny feet moving in the shadows. I turned warily, looking in every direction; there was still nothing but the inky abyss. My skin crawled; I could feel myself being watched. Whispers were there, mere mumbles, but they were there. The white eyes opened all around, and crooked smiles spread. I curled into a ball covering the antenna, but the voices were not coming from outside; they were in my head. Madness, this place was my own insanity. I could feel their voices crawling on little claws all over my brain. I am Vesper. I am human... There were doubts creeping in from all around.

You are not human. We are not human. Why lie to yourself? It will only bring us pain. It would be easier not to feel.

The distorted mouths whispered in my ears, my antennae. The voices were all around me. Just shut up! Leave me alone! I don't care. Just leave me alone. I was human, but now I am something else, something more. No... no! I will not succumb to this. I screamed and drowned out all the sounds. Finally, I was alone, just me and myself. I am me... Nothing will ever change that.

A single warped face remained, hovering in the abyss. It was silent and looked like it wanted to cry. I closed my eyes, sinking into the mire.

~~~

Groggily, I opened my eyes. My body felt heavy, and I rolled over, falling out of my bed. It took a long time to focus; the glowing light was there, welcoming me to the world. I was Vesper, right? But then, who am I now? I was called Vespidian; yes, that is who I am. This is my reality. I am no longer human. Is there even a point in trying to act human? Will I be treated like a human if I act like one, or does it matter? I must survive; nothing else matters. Death means the end; it means to cease to be. That I cannot allow, I will not allow. I would rather live as a monster than fade into oblivion, not with those voices, never again. Crying and whining would not save me. I must become stronger so that I will not return to that abyss. My eyes closed for a moment as I sighed, organizing my thoughts. When they opened again, it felt like the weight of the world had left my shoulders; never mind, it was just Molotov.

"You awake Vesper?" She asked with that face of an angel but a voice so low and thick it was like a tectonic plate. "Good you had us worried. Are you alright? Pain anywhere?"

I shook my head and sat up. "Vesper is dead. I am Vespidian."

"You sure about that? You look like Vesper to me."

"She would never survive in this world. It is not meant for humans. Besides I can't go back, not anymore. I can't even remember my mother's face."

"They still might find way to fix you." She said, patting me on the back. "You can always make new memories with parents."

"Don't lie to me. You said yourself this can't be fixed. No. I don't want to go back. I don't need to go back." I replied, pushing her hand away. "There is nothing left for me there. It would be better if they thought I was dead."

"I would not give up hope. You still have family."

"I can never face them again. Who the hell would want this as their daughter?"

"Changes nothing, family is family. I will take you to see them."

"I don't think that I am ready."

"It will only get worse with time. Stitch while wound is open, not after it has scarred."

"You think I should?" I asked wearily.

"Da. I hold hand whole way." She smiled, gripping my hand. It felt like she was going to tear it off. "Remembering who you were will give you strength to grow into who you will be. Roots strong like turnip after all."

Tears welled up and started to flow down my face. I weakly hit Molotov's shoulder. "Damn it, don't be so supportive after making my life hell."

"There, there just cry and let it all out. You been through more than most will ever even imagine." She patted me and forced my head onto her shoulder. It felt good to not be alone, to have someone to rely on. "Good, good. Da, that is right, just cry on shoulder like little girl you are."

"Only little girl here is you," I muttered.

She ruffled my head tendrils, laughing. My brain was tingling, dragging up this sensation from my memories. My dad would do this, well with hair, but still, whenever I felt down. At least I could still remember his face. I could feel something else, though, a scratching in my head. Like someone was erasing something. Fear was dribbling through my mind. Molotov smiled, wiping my tears away with a small bottle. My eyes opened wide.

"What are you doing?"

"Da? What is matter?" She said, then realized where I was looking. "Oh this, I distill my vodka from tears of capitalist and communist alike. Has very good flavor. Crispness is beyond potato and even turnip. Smooth enough to drink like fish."

I had never heard of anybody doing that, so I had no idea how to feel about it. "Aren't my tears poisonous or something?"

"Nyet. Tear ducts still human, already made batch of your tears." Grinned Molotov. "I would give you about an eight out of ten. Very close to Grey Moose vodka. You cried a lot while in coma. You want try?"

Something about this seemed extremely funny and sad at the same time. "No. I think I will pass on that... You said coma how long was I out for?"

"Two days, not many tears just screams. I was talking about during transformation."

"Screams?"

"Da. You scream like little girl." We both started laughing, and she patted me on the back, almost making me choke on my own tongue. "Got it all out? Feeling better. Remember those tears are proof that you still human, Vesper."

I smiled, even though I felt how wide it was, this evil smile. I seriously look like a villain now... Well, I might as well look the part, right? Better than being a little girl with a man's voice. I chuckled to myself and finally said. "Yeah. I feel like a new person. Let's go meet my parents."

"Good along way I will tell you tales of Nicky Mouse. Brace yourself, she was very flexible." Grinned Molotov.

"Damn it, I don't care about that! LALALALA can't hear you!"

"Antenna still poking out. So there I was, cozy fireplace at my bare back and bear skin rug under my naked..."

"NOO!" I cried while she giggled. She still told me the whole damned story. Apparently, Nicky Mouse put an octopus to shame. I tried to divert the conversation by asking how she knew about the octopus. I threw up five times, and she was only halfway through the story. I had not seen enough hentai to know where that one went.