Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Zippy Zipperdale: Moderately Mad Scientist ❯ The Eleventh Experiment ( Chapter 11 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

ZIPPY ZIPPERDALE:
MODERATELY MAD SCIENTIST—
THE 11TH EXPERIMENT

By Hardcover

For most of the students at Madam Petri’s School For The Gifted And Eccentric, the most familiar part of Mr. DeSade’s Genetic Manipulation class was the large half circle main classroom with it old fashioned step ladder seating. However behind the door at the back of the stage area lay the teacher’s private lab and it was here that Zippy, Rina and Charity were at the moment, under the supervision of the teacher himself. In contrast to the high ceilinged teaching area, the lab was a simple rectangular construction, although done up with DeSade’s penchant for old fashioned, almost antique décor. Cutting edge equipment shared space with wooden varnished cabinets and hand crafted tables, giving the lab a feel as if the Victorian era had collided head on with the space age.

On the large examination table in the far rear of the room, Charity sat, completely naked while the teacher ran about pulling up the results of the endless tests he had run on her. She sat on the table with her double jointed legs stretched out in front of her, supporting herself on her three fingers hands, her tail swishing behind her. Her large pupil-less eyes watched with guarded hopefulness as the Mr. DeSade went about his tasks. She felt nervous in this room, with all its reflective surfaces in which she caught glimpses of her weird freakish new form. It was made worse by the fact that she wasn’t wearing any clothes.

She was grateful she didn’t have to go through this alone, as Zippy and Rina had agreed to accompany her. Still, it felt very strange to have her one time rivals taking such concern for her. Rina, when she was Rina, had been almost non stop in her attempts to console her and lift her spirits. Though, as always, Rick had been her most solid bit of support. How quickly her old life had been ripped out from under her. At least now she was no where near as depressed as she had been. Those days after her transformation and attempted suicide had been horrible, her waking life an unending torrent of fear and depression, her dreams while asleep even worse, leaving her with little or no escape from a painful, debilitating hell.

Little by little, she had begun to feel better. With help from Rick, the psyche Werx, and Zippy’s bunch, she had begun to feel less despairing. Not great, but better. And ‘better’ was a vast improvement of where she had been.

After carefully looking over the results, Mr. DeSade came back over to her. She looked up at him but her hopes were dashed by the expression on his face.

“Well,” Mr. DeSade said in low, slightly French accented voice, “I’m afraid I have some bad new for you.”

Charity drew her legs up and put her chin on her knees, “Color me stunned.”

Her tail dipped a little bit with her disappointment.

Mr. DeSade continued, “I have no idea how to turn you back. Not only that; I am not entirely sure of what was done to you in the first place. This isn’t like any sort of genetic manipulation that I have ever seen before. This radically advanced, scary, work; I cannot even think of anyone off the top of my head at the school that would even be capable of pulling this off.”

As Charity sighed despondently, Zippy stepped forward, “Mr. DeSade? What exactly is she? I mean, what sort of material was added to create a change like this?”

He turned back to the computer screens, “It seems to be a lot of different things, really, all altered in and of themselves before being used to alter Miss Milquetoast. Despite all that, I recognize a lot of these genetic codings. And here is the odd part; they all correspond to material that has been stolen from my lab in recent weeks.”

Zippy pursed her lips, “So someone stole your personal material and used it to change Charity?”

“Not all mine.” Mr. DeSade waved a finger, squinting at the screen, “There is something else here, buried under all the rest. Some sort of trigger component that made the entire process happen the way it did. I don’t recognize it at all; it is something I have never seen before. At a guess, I believe it was originally constructed for use with fish DNA and RNA, but has been altered somehow in order to work on mammals. But that is just supposition, this is a complete mystery.”

Rina put a sympathetic hand on Charity’s shoulder. Charity looked up and her and smiled weakly.

Tapping the screen, Mr. DeSade asked, “Are the changes all just her physical appearance, or has there been any change in her abilities or requirements? I understand Buttercup’s sloth DNA has her only able to sleep hanging from those bars installed on her dorm room ceiling. Has anything like that cropped up?”

Both Rina and Charity nodded.

Rina told him, “She sleeps hanging by her tail from the bars. It took her a few nights to respond to the instinct to do that before she could sleep.”

“There’s more.” Charity lifted her head up, “My limbs are way more powerful then they used to be, I can run a long time before I get tired, and . . . hell, I might was well show you.”

Charity shifted to a crouching position, and then with a powerful thrust of her legs she leapt up to the ceiling like an acrobat. And stayed there. To everyone’s surprise, she crawled across the ceiling, sticking to it like Spider-Woman. She crawled for a few feet, and then dropped back down to the table with a fluid athletic motion.

She shrugged, “I discovered it last night by accident.”

“That was actually pretty cool.” Rina said, elated.

“Hmmm, I would like to do some further examinations of you hands and feet. To see how you’re able to do that.” Mr. DeSade told her, “But in the meantime, I have got enough for today. You can get dressed. I won’t give up; I will keep on working on this until have some kind of answer for you. I wouldn’t get your hopes up too much; however, even if I figure out this trigger component, I do not believe it will be possible to change you back.”

Charity nodded solemnly, she had suspected as much.

“You’re going to have to start going back to class, Charity.” Rina told her. “You can’t stay locked up in our room forever.”

Again, Charity nodded. After her breakdown on the balcony, half the school had seen her new body anyways. There was no point in hiding it. At least Rick still seemed to like her like this. In fact, he seemed, at times, to like her even more, if that were possible. Charity began putting her clothes back on, resigned to her fate now more then ever.

As Charity was getting dressed, Zippy noticed something up on the wall: A long dueling saber and scabbard hung over one Mr. DeSade’s desks. It looked finely crafted with a thick handle and bowl shaped hand guard and a blade that almost looked like a cutlass.

“Hey, Mr. DeSade, what’s that?” She pointed to it questioningly.

DeSade smiled, “That’s something that was made for me a long time ago. Its hand crafted in the old manner, but the metal is a new alloy that will slice through almost anything. It’s the sturdiest metal on the planet, but it’s very difficult to make so very little has been made with it.”

He shrugged and smirked a little, “To tell you the truth, I mainly wear it as decoration at formal occasions. Having a sword on my belt just makes me look a bit more dashing and regal.”

Finishing up dressing, Charity and Rina headed out the door, Rina giving Charity another pat on the shoulder. Zippy remained behind a minute, looking as Mr. DeSade looked over the computer screen with a furrowed brow. He had an uneasy expression on his face, as he rubbed his chin, looking at the data.

When he noticed Zippy was still there, he looked up, “Was there something else, Miss Zipperdale?”

Zippy paused a bit and then asked, “I don’t suppose there’s anyway to find out who did this to her?”

“That is the million dollar question, is it not?” Mr. DeSade replied, glancing back to the screen, “Not that I can see, but I’ll keep digging. Believe me, Miss Zipperdale; I would like to know how this happened as much as you.”

“Thanks for doing this for us.” Zippy said, and then on full impulse gave him a brief hug.

“It is no problem. I just wish I could be of more help.” He chuckled.

The chuckle sounded forced to Zippy as she turned and left the room, she heard Mr. DeSade mumble, “I wish Madam Petri was here.”

She glanced back at him and saw that same look of intense worry on his face, and something else: A touch of deep sadness.


Catching up with Rina and Charity, Zippy noticed that Charity, with some practice, had managed to get herself walking mostly in an upright position, though with a slight slump of her shoulders and neck. Her long double jointed legs had her standing a head or so above Zippy and Rina. She clutched her hands as she walked, not looking anyone she passed in the eye, mainly because everyone was still staring at her.

“This is me,” Charity sighed, “I’ll be like this forever.”

“Maybe not.” Rina said hopefully, “But in any event, it’s not that bad.”

“To tell you the truth,” Zippy offered, “You actually look pretty cool.”

“I look like a transvestite Nightcrawler!” Charity moaned.

Rina raised an eyebrow at her, “You don’t look anything like a worm.”

“No, the comic book character . . . oh never mind.” She sighed, “I’ve lost all my friends, my whole life, except for Rick.”

“Charity,” Zippy said, “It does feel a little weird to say this, but now that you’re not and Amber thug, I actually like you.”

Rina chimed in, “So do I. And so does Buttercup.”

Although her face did not change much from her dour expression, Zippy thought she noticed a hint of a smile on her face. The whole thing was giving Zippy a sense of Déjà vu; since Charity’s situation was similar to what Krystal’s had been. But, Zippy reminded herself, Krystal was still human and we didn’t know who did this Charity. Again she felt a pang of guilt for what she had done to Krystal, but it disappeared just as quickly. Although it was unintentional, Krystal was now happier then she’d been before. And of course, Cristobel had it coming for trying cut of her and Lizzy’s heads and switch them. It could be said, of course, that Charity had it coming as well. In truth, she had been, along with the rest of Amber’s Army, a gigantic pain in the kiester since Zippy had gotten to Petri’s.

But looking at her now, Zippy couldn’t help but feel the need to lend her support. Maybe she was just a sucker for a charity case. Zippy snickered a little at the unintentional pun.

Zippy’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Katjia who playfully yanked Charity’s tale and then took off running on all fours giggling wildly. Charity’s tail had been an endless source of fascination for both the Ferrell twins for days.

“Hey! Don’t yank my tail!” Charity shouted.

She then dropped to all fours herself and took off after Katjia, her powerful limbs propelling her across the floor. She closed the gap quickly, but the wolf girl was far too adept at four legged running.

“You can’t catch me, you can’t catch me!” Katjia taunted, sticking her tongue out over her shoulder.

“Wanna bet?” Charity grinned, starting to enjoy the chase.

With a push of her limps, she leapt up at the wall ran along the side of the wall, bypassing easily astonished students who Katjia had to go around.

“Hey! No fair!” Katjia protested, “I didn’t know you could do that?”

“Too late!” Charity taunted, “My tail cries for vengeance!”

“I don’t have a tail!” Katjia called back, “I wish I did, but I don’t!”

“You’re hair will do just fine!” Charity announced, racing along the wall, her hand and fingers adhering to it just enough to keep her from falling.

Charity was suddenly finding herself feeling very good. Running and leaping along the walls in her new body was actually exhilarating, and she found herself laughing as her little wolf girl nemesis. Deep in the back of her mind, something told her that she could get used to this. Her tail flapped behind her as she picked up speed. For the first time in days, she was suddenly and unexpectedly having a lot of fun.

Zippy and Rina both looked at each other and laughed. It was the kind of thing you could only see in a place like Petri’s, so absurd and yet so much fun to watch. As the continued down the hall talking about Charity and what they could do for her, Mr. Charcharias approached them.

Like most of the teachers at Petri’s, Mr. Charcharias cut an odd if impressive figure. He was an Indian man, tall and thin, but with broad shoulders. His face was long and he looked at you with intense brown eyes. His hair was black and brushed back over his head in a wave, and he sported a pointed goatee on his chin, and a long ended Fu Manchu style mustache.  He dressed in a long grey double breasted coat and matching pants that resemble sort of a cross between an old fashioned sea captain and a confederate soldier.

He stepped up to them, giving a curt bow with his usual politeness.

“Ah, good evening ladies.” He said with only a hint of an accent, “I had hoped that I would run into you.”

“What’s up?” Zippy asked.

“Actually, I wanted to speak to Rina.” He replied.

“Me? Why?” Rina said, getting nervous like she did every time someone asked her for something.

“You told me earlier you’d be happy to do extra credit work to help me with my specimens?” He reminded.

Rina nodded, “Sure, what did you need?”

He smiled a little lopsidedly, looking slightly embarrassed, “I’m afraid I’ve let work pile up lately. I am in need of someone to feed my specimens on occasion while I catch up on it. Would you be available from time to time to do that for me?”

Rina ginned, nodding enthusiastically, “Yes, of course I would.”

“Splendid.” Mr. Charcarias replied, and then added, “Um . . . in the event that you yourself are not available . . .?”

“Madoka will be happy to do it, I’m sure.” Rina said, blushing at the discussion of her other personality.

“Thank you so much, the both of you.” He clapped his hands together, “I really appreciate this . . .”

He was interrupted by Katjia letting out a shriek of pain.

“OW! Charity! I’m sorry; I didn’t pull your tail that hard!”



After seeing Rina to her dorm, Zippy made her way back to her own, already tired a bit from the days events. As she went, she passed a small stairwell where she could hear to raised voices in an argument of some kind. Listening, she realized it was Amber and Adam. Whatever they were fighting about it seemed pretty intense. She kept going, ignoring the noise.

As she so often did, she felt a twinge of pity for Adam Fission, and his deep seeded seemingly unquenchable love for that bitch Amber. How in the world Adam, who seemed like a nice enough guy, could be so smitten with someone so stuck up and obnoxious was beyond her. She arrived at her dorm room, thinking about her relationship with Kyle, and how well that was going. As usual, a warm feeling flowed through her as she thought of her boyfriend.

She pushed open the door and entered the spacious dorm room. As soon was she was in she was greeted by the sight of a glum looking Stitchy sitting on her bed next to Lizzy who seemed to be trying to cheer her up. Her naturally sullen expression and demeanor weren’t really up to the task and Stitchy was absent her usual enthusiastic optimism. As soon as she saw them, Zippy became concerned. She dropped her book bag and crossed over to them.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Stitchy just broke up with Steve.” Lizzy replied.

“Steve?” She asked.

Steve? Steve who? Zippy wracked her brain, but couldn’t come up with a face to match the name that she’d seen around her creation. A slight feeling of shame came over her as she realized that her erstwhile “daughter” had just broken up with a guy Zippy hadn’t even known she’d been dating. Had she been ignoring her? Not paying enough attention to her?

Stitchy grimaced, “He dump Stitchy. He say Stitchy overshadow him. He say he feel invisible whenever Stitchy with him.”

She didn’t say it, but that made a little sense: At almost seven feet tall, criss-crossed with lines of stitches, and possessed of an energetic, enthusiastic personality, Stitchy more or less drew the eyes of every room she walked into. It was somewhat fortunate the Stitchy was a bit of a show off who liked to be the center of attention.

“Don’t take it too hard.” Lizzy patter her on her huge shoulder, “They’ll be plenty of other boys.”

At that remark, Stitchy brightened up and her natural optimism returned, “Yes, that true.”

Reaching behind her, she fumbled in her bad for something. Zippy was finding it slightly amusing that Lizzy of all people had managed to cheer someone up. Stitchy pulled a stack of small envelopes out of her purse and began shifting through them. With a start, Zippy realized they were all love letters. A considerable amount of them; all asking her creation on a date.

“Let’s see . . . which one . . .  which one?” Stitchy murmured, seeming to have completely forgotten the mysterious ‘Steve’, “Ah! He handsome! Tight cute little butt too!”

At first, Zippy felt protective of her, worrying about her going out with all those boys. But then she realized that it was highly unlikely any of these guys were going to try to take advantage of a girl who could snap them in half like a twig.



Much later that night, deep down by Megan’s tank, all the members of The Shark Tank Guild were gathered in front of one of the massive viewing windows, awaiting the arrival of the proud new sixty foot parents. The blue reflective light from the tank shimmered around the room, and soon the two huge hazy shapes began to materialize out of the gloom.

Even now, there was always a bit of fear as the massive sharks came closer, their dark greenish grey hides fronted by rows of seven inch steak knife sized teeth. They swam up to the massive window, their huge flukes guiding them along. As they slowed to a stop, Megan was the first to speak.

The implant on her head flashed, “Why hello everyone. You’re all here, how wonderful.”

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Madoka chimed in.

Morgan floated forward a bit, and greeted them. Within a few minutes, two more shapes appeared out of the gloom, and soon the two babies were floating in front of the window.

The ‘babies’ were the size of great whites, a good twenty feet each, and covered with a  thick grayish green hide like their parents. They were clearly twins as all their markings seemed to be identical. They floated towards the glass, looking over all their visitors curiously. Zippy could see that they now sported the same implants on their head that their parents did.

The one on the right flashed and a high child like voice came out of the speakers around the window.

“Hi, I’m Abbey.” The baby meg said.

“And I’m Britney.” The other one introduced herself, her voice identical to her sister’s.

The all greeted them with enthusiasm, marveling at this second generation of this new species of megalodon. Charity even climbed up the wall and leaned in from the side to get a better look. Zippy watched the twins in wonder as the played and flipped their bodies back and forth; this was truly and amazing school to be in, whatever risks it had. She knew then that she would never want to attend anywhere else. She laughed and clapped with the rest at the playful antics of the new arrivals.



The weeks passed and gradually the other students, as they so often did before, became accustomed to Charity’s new appearance and abilities. As predicted, Amber promptly kicked her out of her group, but Charity had already started to settle in with the rest of the STG, and was little by little being accepted by them, much as Krystal had before her. While it was pretty much obvious that Charity was out of Amber’s Army as soon as her change became known, no real official dismissal occurred other then Amber including Charity in her snide remarks against the STG. That and Amber had seemed to promote an Asian girl named Phoebe Pham into Charities old position, whatever that was other then thief. Of course, Amber found herself loosing Rick as well, who followed Charity over to Zippy’s group. Zippy was pretty glad to have him; smart, dedicated and not too bad to look at. She felt they both added to the group. Amber, of course, was livid that Zippy had taken in her rejects, and accused her of causing Charity’s change herself. On the other hand, Zippy had begun to suspect that Eve was right: Amber might have had something to do with Charity’s transformation.

Stitchy went about her usual routine of school work and dating a seemingly endless revolving door of boys. She had begun to a take a keen interest in the phenomenon of ball lightening, pouring over books on the subject, and Zippy thought her gargantuan creation was nursing some personal project. She’d also taken a interest in the book written by Zippy’s Great Aunt, as well as picking up extra credit volunteering as a nurse for Dr. Cavorkian, even going so far as to have the Werx make her a nurse’s outfit, which proved rather popular with the boys.

For her part, Zippy continued her relationship with Kyle, their bond seemed to get just a little bit stronger each day and they spent whatever free time they could get together. Usually not studying. She couldn’t believe that she’d found a guy like this amongst all of this chaos, but the chemistry had just seemed to click. With the minor glitch that Kyle seemed a little guarded and vague about his past.

Experiments with the cancer cure continued, but only resulted in failure after failure. Still, no one even thought of giving up. They pressed on, looking for a result.

For his part, Rick did exactly what he said he would and stood by Charity. At no point did he seem to find her new form any less desirable then her old one, and the pair could be found making out frequently in the private corners of the school. Charity had seemed to find a new form of expression in her powerful legs, grasping tail, and ability to stick to flat surfaces, often blowing off steam by performing elaborate calisthenics amongst the schools many towers, a hobby that gave her boyfriend many nervous moments.

The rest of the STG continued hanging out at Megan’s tank like they always had, striking up a similar friendship with Abbey and Britney. In particular, the two baby twin megalodons seemed to have formed a particular bond with the Farrell twins. It made sense since both sets of twins were fairly unique in the world.

But even as life went on its usual strange way at the school, Zippy couldn’t shake the feeling that something very wrong was lurking beneath the surface.


Sitting at her desk in Miss Piranha’s class, Zippy kept one eye on her teacher. Miss Piranha was going about her instruction with her usual exuberance, a smile plastered on her face and her fetish outfit crinkling as she moved, her stiletto heals clicking on the school floor, but Zippy could see the hollow look in her eyes. She was scared, very scared and doing her best to hide it, masking her terror and despair behind a porcelain covering of artificial excitement. There was extra makeup under her eyes, no doubt hiding dark bags. Zippy wondered if she was sleeping at all.

Biting her lip in frustration, Zippy looked down at her work. It killed her to see Miss Piranha like this. Miss Piranha, who was always so full of life and energy being eaten away, physically and spiritually, by the cancer cells in her body. Zippy knew, intellectually, that cancer cells were not ‘evil’ per se. But she could help but feel an intense personal hatred for them from deep inside her gut, how they would conspire to rob her of her favorite teacher; the one teacher who had supported her right from the start. She realized that cancer didn’t conspire, it just ran its life cycle, but she still felt that personal vendetta rising against it.

Just you wait, you murderous bastards, Zippy thought, I’ll find a way to beat you. I’ll find a way to kill you.



After classes, Zippy and Lizzy met up with Lorne and both Farrell Twins. As they walked they talked a lot, light heartedly, and soon they were on the topic that most of the school was getting on.

Katjia said, “So, what are everyone’s plans for the Atom Smasher’s Ball?”

Zippy shook her head, “I don’t have a dress picked out yet.”

“Well, we’re going to need more then just clothes,” Katjia replied, “We’re going to need dates.”

I slight flush of color came across Zippy’s face, “Well, that I’ve already got covered, I’m going with Kyle. I can’t wait to see him in tux.”

“Naturally.” Nadjia nodded, and then added, “It’s just tough to find good guys who will go out with my sister and me despite all our more savage traits. I mean, they never seem to be around.”

“Who knows?” Katjia said, “Maybe it’ll be someone right under our nose?”

The others didn’t notice, but Lorne cast his eyes down on the floor a little after that comment. His wide bloodshot sunken eyes glanced over at Nadjia and he sighed a little inwardly.

Grabbing Zippy’s shoulder, Katjia drew her attention to something. There, at the bottom of a nearby stairwell, Stitchy was crouched down, making out with some guy that Zippy only vaguely recognized. She certainly had moved on from whoever Steve was pretty fast. She watched, blushing a little as the two made out passionately without a care as to who saw them. Again, Zippy’s protective instincts rose up in her and she thought for a second to march up there and demand to know who this guy was and what his intentions were towards her ‘daughter’. But Katjia pulled her along.

“I’ll bet she won’t have any problems finding a date.” Katjia winked at Zippy.

Zippy felt a surge of anger well up in her: Was Katjia calling her ‘daughter’ a slut? She fought it down, taking a few deep breaths. Of course not, Katjia was just being playful; she loved Stitchy as much as everyone else. Zippy kicked herself for her anger; she knew she had to control that. She sat on a lot of rage sometimes, and she still hadn’t forgotten how much trouble it had once gotten her into. Instead she clicked on the small digital voice recorder she used to take notes on Stitchy.

“As usual, subject is quick to put set backs behind her and more on.” She said, “She seems to be eternally optimistic that something better will always be around the corner. I wish I could think like that.”

“Well, I think we’ll all find dates.” Was Nadjia’s optimistic response, “But I’m sure Lizzy probably won’t even go. I mean, you skipped out on last year’s.”

“I couldn’t find a date and my parents were stranded at comic book convention because of a tornado warning.” Lizzy answered matter of factly, “But it might interest you to know that I plan to attend this year’s. And I believe I will have a date.”

“Oh really?” Katjia leaned in grinning, “Who’d you have in mind?”

Lizzy’s only response was to smile a little and say nothing.



Deep down in the lower levels of the school where the labs were located, one in particular had been set aside for the Shark Tank Guild’s cancer cure experiments. It was a rather innocuous looking room, except for the sign on the door that read ‘Quiet: Miracle In Progress’, despite the fact that the experiments had been, as yet, anything but miraculous. The room was similar to the one in which Charity had first been examined; long and rectangular with raised runways around the side and filled with state of art equipment. The light was rather low and cast shadows about the room, which were interrupted by the continuous flashing lights of the machines.

In this room, sitting in front of a large computer screen, sat Zippy and Krystal as they waited for the result of their latest endeavor. Machines hummed all around them as they waited, and they passed the time in conversation. Zippy had noticed that Krystal seemed to relish girl talk quite a bit. She knew Krystal had pretty much accepted her gender by now, and she had all but openly admitted that she liked boys, so Zippy decided to broach the subject of the Atom Smasher’s Ball with her.

Truth be told, Zippy was both anticipating and dreading the event. She had never been a prom girl, but she loved gatherings and dancing. What made her dread the event was the fact that it was a night for students and family as well, which meant her parents and brother would be invited. She wasn’t sure if they would come, but if they did . . . well, they had barely been able to handle Lizzy and Krystal and Stitchy being born in their basement. She wasn’t sure how they’d react the first time they ran into Charity or Buttercup. True, Stitchy had grown on them, to the point that in every letter she got from them, they usually asked about her.

But then that was Stitchy, she had a unique ability to endear herself to almost anyone.

“Say, Krystal.” Zippy asked, “Are you planning on going to the Atom Smasher’s Ball?”

Surprised by the question, Krystal looked up at her and then shook her head, “No, my parents won’t even be there, I’m sure. Dad isn’t going to come to support a daughter he never wanted.”

The usual dark cloud of depression spilled over Krystal’s face when she talked about her father. His rejection of her was still a wound that felt raw. She tried to pretend it didn’t matter, but Zippy could tell: Some part of her still yearned for his approval. He didn’t deserve that small bit of devotion, and Krystal probably knew it. But something in her still needed that. Needed it and knew she could never have it.

“Even so, you might want to go just the same. Kyle’s parents aren’t going to be coming either.” Zippy told her, “It might be good for you, to get dressed up all pretty and attend a formal ball. All of us will be there, we’re all your friends, and it could be good for you.”

“You’ll all have dates.” Krystal pointed out.

“So? Get one.” Zippy shrugged.

“Easy for you to say,” Krystal chided, “How many guys want to go to the dance with the transgender girl?”

“Oh, Krystal.” Zippy rolled her eyes, “You’re making up excuses. Lots of guys here are interested in you and you know it. I see them checking you out, and I’ve seen you enjoying the attention and playing up to them.”

Krystal blushed a bit, “I know, I know: I just wouldn’t know how to ask someone to the dance.”

“Just go up to them and say ‘Wanna go to the dance?’.”

“You could do that, I couldn’t.”

“What’s the worst that could happen? He could say no.”

“He could say ewwwww.”

“Krystal, you’re beautiful.” Zippy declared, “I worked hard on that. You’re a sexy little hottie. No one is going to say ‘ewwwww’.”

They were quiet for a second. Zippy thought it over: She knew Krystal had hinted that there might be someone at the school that she was interested in, but she’d never let it slip who it was. As her acceptance of her new gender had grown, Zippy had seen her more and more playing up to guys, some days being downright flirtations. She was fairly certain Krystal still also liked girls, but there seemed to be a definite shift in her preferences. Which led to . . .?

Zippy leaned over, “Krystal? Have you got a crush on someone?”

Krystal almost didn’t have to answer; the flushing on her cheeks told Zippy everything she needed to know. She glanced down and let a small smile appear on her face.

“I . . . might have my eye on someone.” Krystal admitted.

“Really?” Zippy leaned forward, getting interested, “Who is it?”

“No, I’m not telling you. You’ll think I’m being silly.” Krystal shook her head.

“No I won’t, come on, tell me. Who is it, huh?” Zippy prodded.

Krystal giggled, “No, no, no!”

Zippy attempted to tickle it out of her, but all Krystal would do is laugh and twist away from her and attempt to tickle her back.

“Come on, spill it!” Zippy prodded, “Who do you like?”

“Never! Never!” Krystal laughed.

Their little bit of revelry was interrupted by the sound of the computer as the results of the experiment came back. They both leaned in and read the data as it scrolled on the screen.

It was another failure.



Later that night while everyone had gathered in the dining hall, another volunteer was chosen, some girl from the back that they hardly knew. They were so numb to the event by now that they hardly paid it any attention.

The room was noisy with the chatter of students and the mechanical sounds of the Werx moving to and fro. Discussions rained on every table each depending on the group and the sounds of plates and silverware moving echoed through the large hall. Zippy gazed up at the large painted compass on the domed ceiling and the words that surrounded it, “Life, Mind, Imagination, Invention, Happiness.”, hoping against hope that she’d find some kind of inspiration there. The table was all a little subdued at the news of the latest failure of the cancer cure. Everyone was there, including Eve which was a rare occasion. No one had said it would be easy, but the lack of any progress had been frustrating to say the least.

Zippy’s mind poured over other options that they hadn’t tried. As she did that she looked around the room, getting a feeling from the crowd. So much had happened since her arrival. She had no point of reference, but she got the impression that the school had been weirder and more dangerous then usual after Madam Petri left, for whatever project was keeping her occupied and requiring so many students. Students that so far, no one had heard from again.

Krystal placed her hands on the table, sighing heavily, “Maybe we could all use some down time?”

The suggestion was greeted a few tired nods.

Nadjia spoke up, “You know, it’s karaoke night at The Manhattan Project. Maybe we should all go? Belt out some tunes, have some fun. Party it up a little like young people instead of sighing like old people.”

Zippy grinned, “You know, that’s not a bad idea. I’m in.”

One by one, everyone at the table agree. But then Madoka spoke up.

“Sorry guys, I’d like to, but Rina volunteered us to help Mr. Charcarias feed his animals, and he needs us tonight.” Madoka told them.

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” Zippy said, “Well, have fun with that.”

“You know, I kind of do.” Madoka said, “Some of these mutations are really fascinating.”

When everyone looked at her in surprise, Madoka added, “What? I can’t have layers?”

Suddenly, the music in the room stopped, signaling an announcement of some kind. All eyes turned to the balcony above and the door opened to admit the sever figure of Vice Principle Innsmouth as he strode to the end of the railing. Zippy glanced around and noticed the teachers were looking at each other in surprise; apparently they were unaware of any announcement today. She looked back up and Mr. Innsmouth’s hard and cold face as he strode to the front of the railing, looking down at them with those deep sunken eyes. He brushed his long white hair aside and then spoke in his deep voice.

“I am pleased to announce,” He began, “That in the interest of continued excellence in education and the continued enforcement of proper discipline; I have decided to appoint two new Assistant Vice Principles, which you are to obey in all things as you do myself. They will report only to me, and have authority over every part of the school such as I do.

“Please welcome, Mrs. Hydra and Mr. Xenon.”

From out of the door two tall figures emerged, even taller then Innsmouth himself. Hell, they were almost as big as Stitchy. The woman had long wavy blond hair and narrow eyes that seemed black as pitch as well as freakishly long lips that stretched across her face. She smiled at the students, but it was a cold, rehearsed smile that almost looked like it was an animal bearing its fangs.

Mr. Xenon did not smile at all. He had blonde hair that was brushed back over his head but still seemed wild and unkempt, and a long face with a pronounced almost pointed chin. He started at them with wide bug eyes that almost seemed never to blink. Both figures wore long silver capes that were buttoned at the neck and down the front, running down the floor in shifting flows, leaving only their heads visible and the rest of their bodies covered up completely.

But what struck Zippy was they way they both moved. They didn’t seem to be walking; it almost looked as if they were . . . gliding across the floor somehow. Both new Assistant Vice Principles seemed to have an aura of the unearthly about them that made Zippy shudder when their eyes passed over her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and something deep down in her gut was telling her these two meant trouble. She made a note to avoid them when she could.

She felt Kyle’s hand touch her knee under the table. At first she thought he was getting frisky under the table, but then she saw him gesturing to the back where the teachers all stood. She looked over and saw that they were all glancing at each other and whispering in confusion and incredulity. This was obviously the first thing they’d ever heard of this. Innsmouth had appointed his new assistant vice principles without bothering to tell anyone on his staff. Why? Why would he do that? And to what end could he need these two? The positions had not existed before now.

Looking back up at Innsmouth, Zippy narrowed her eyes at him. Behind his cold dark eyes, wheels seemed to be turning. Zippy could almost see the sparks of planning and conniving going on in there. What in the world was he up to?



Later that evening, things in the sprawling school library were pretty much normal. Mrs. Lovecraft sat at her desk hard at work, while the Poe twins moved around returning books to their proper places. Eve hung from one of the railings upside down engrossed in a book, and a few students sat at tables here and there around the room.

Two of those students were Krystal and Kevin, seated off to the side across from each other, exchanging notes on possible ways to make the cancer cure work. They had, between the two of them, plenty of good ideas. But good ideas weren’t a cure.

The table they were sitting at was rather narrow, and Krystal could feel her knees brushing up against Kevin’s. She was excited a little by the brief contact and felt her heart beat a little bit faster and her face grow just a tiny bit warmer. Kevin, for his part, seemed oblivious to his former guy friend’s new infatuation with him. Krystal sighed inwardly; this inexplicable unavoidable crush she had on Kevin sometimes felt like it was tearing her apart.

She couldn’t really put her finger on the exact moment when she’d fully realized that she liked boys now. Some time after the point where she had really begun to think of herself as girl. It had probably started during her stay at Zippy’s house, when she had found herself enjoying the attention Zach heaped on her. She had, she had to admit, had even liked it when he’d kissed her. But it was hard to tell when she had started viewing boys sexually and romantically.

The thing was, she still liked girls. That hadn’t changed, although her newfound interest in boys seemed stronger and more driving. She wasn’t sure if her room mates realized this, but she was always blushing a little whenever they were undressing together. In fact, it seemed like most of the STG liked to take their clothes off for whatever excuse they could get. A trait Krystal was starting to share, finding it more relaxing to lounge around the dorm naked or in her underwear during her down time.

She thought of Zippy’s discussion earlier of the Atom’s Smasher’s Ball. Of course, she’d meant Kevin when she’d said she had a crush on someone, but she hadn’t wanted to tell Zippy that. True enough, Zippy was pretty trustworthy and could keep a secret. Maybe it was just that some part of her didn’t want Zippy to have the satisfaction of knowing how much happier she was as a girl. Illogical, of course, as Zippy was already well aware of that. Still, she wondered what it would be like, to dress up and a sexy beautiful gown and have Kevin in a tux leading her into a ballroom like something out of one of her sister’s old fairy tale books that she’d kept hidden.

She glanced up at Kevin and decided to poke around a little, to see what he thought of her now. She mustered her courage and then approached it as casually as she could.

“Kevin?” She asked, looking up from her paper and trying to seem nonchalant about the subject, “Do you see me any differently since my transformation?”

She’d tried to make that as smooth as possible, but she detected a little tremor in her voice. She didn’t know if Kevin picked up too.

Kevin glanced at her, “What do you mean?”

She felt her face getting hot, and her knees twitched a little. She was sure she was blushing as she pushed forward with the subject.

“Well,” She asked him, “D-do you find me . . . attractive at all?”

Kevin smiled and patted her hand, “You’re very pretty.”

He then looked back at his book, leaving Krystal to have conflicting emotions. That hadn’t been quite what she’d been hoping for. She wanted him to say that he found her very attractive, that he thought of her all time, or maybe just sometimes. She was looking for some clue that at least some of her infatuation was being returned. It wasn’t like she expected him to sweep her off her feet and plant a great deep kiss on her lips while the theme from Gone With The Wind played in the background (although she certainty wouldn’t mind that). But she’d hoped some acknowledgement that he might have some interest in her.

Still, she thought with a bit of a smile: He did say she was pretty.



The long curved hallways through the larger section of the aquarium level bathed the walls, floor and ceiling with shimmering reflections of water from the massive windows that looked into he huge tanks that lined either side of the passageway. Madoka strolled through, pushing a large cart that contained food for the various strange mutations that resided down here. The squeak and drag of the wheels echoed through the long passageway as she went, humming to herself.

She was slightly resentful at Rina for volunteering them both for this, as much as she loved these strange and bizarre creatures, she really wanted to be out with Zippy and the other’s tonight, maybe picking up a few cute boys to play with. Not that Rina would ever appreciate that. Still, she loved interacting with these fantastic animals, so maybe she shouldn’t be so quick to get pissed at Rina.

She pulled up next to a large window, huge but no where near as big as the ones in Megan’s tank. As she came up to the window, a giant sea turtle the size of pick up truck floated towards the glass, peering at Madoka with her wide dark eyes.

Pulling the turtle food out of the cart, Madoka waved to her, “Hi, Shelly.”

Shelly’s head was graced with an implant similar to Megan’s. The implant flashed and Shelly’s voice came out of the speakers at the base of the window. She spoke, for some reason, with a clipped proper English accent, sounding like some kind of rich debutante.

“Oh, why hello there, Rina.” Shelly said, “And how might you be today?”

“It’s Madoka, actually.” Madoka corrected her, “But I’m good.”

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Shelly apologized, “It’s so hard to tell who’s in the pilot seat sometimes.”

Madoka felt that she really couldn’t be more different from Rina, but people still seemed to have trouble telling who they were talking to.

“Well, I’ve got dinner for you. Yum Yum.” Madoka said playfully and shoved the block of turtle food into the slot on the side of the window.

There was a hiss and the block was ejected out the other side and into the tank.

“Ah, what a marvelously accommodating young woman you are.” Shelly said, floating down and digging into the food.

After a little bit more small talk with Shelly, Madoka moved on to the next window. On the other side of it, a large Colossal Squid floated in the water just a few feet from the glass. Looking quite different from a Giant Squid, the Colossal Squid had a round bulbous body and much shorter tentacles our in front of its face. Its body was a deep red color and it sported a speech implant as well. The squid jetted over to her as soon as he saw her.

“Alright! Chow time!” The squid waved his tentacles happily.

“Her, Gordon.” Madoka greeted him, “Soup’s up.”

She put the block of squid food in the slot and pulled the lever. Once again the food popped out into the water to the delight of its inhabitant. Gordon stretched out his tentacles and pulled the block towards his beak, shredding the meal with his clawed suckers like a paper shredder. As Madoka watched him chow down, she suddenly gasped as she noticed something else in the tank with him. Something that looked almost human shaped.

She leaned in close and managed to get a good look at the new visitor as it swam by. As soon as she saw it, she recognized it and her shock became even more pronounced: It was Felicia, one of the students who had disappeared recently, supposed off on some special project, according to the vice principle. But she was only vaguely recognizable, her form having been completely altered somehow, much in the way Charity’s had.

She was naked and what were once Felicia’s legs were now a mass of writhing tentacles. Her skin was covered in what looked like silvery scales all over and she had no hair on her head at all; she was completely bald. She sported webs of skin in between her fingers and fins along her fore arms. Here also seemed to be a large dorsal fin on her back and Madoka could make out gills on her neck. Jutting out of her hips were two large funnels and her eyes were at least twice as large as they should have been.

Madoka had only a few minutes to take that all in. As soon as Felicia saw her, she covered face and jetting away into the tank, disappearing from sight.

Staring into the empty stop with her mouth hanging open, Madoka turned to Gordon and asked him.

“Gordon, did you see that?” She asked, not believing her own eyes.

Munching on his food Gordon replied, “Who? Felicia? She’s been moving around from tank to tank for weeks. She’s afraid to see anyone she knows because she’s ashamed of how she looks now. I dunno why, I think she’s a honey.”

Madoka grabbed the mike that broadcast into the tank, “Felicia? Felicia? Please come back, I want to help you? Felicia?”

She called several more times but Felicia did not return. Madoka stepped back from the glass: What in the world could have happened to her? She wondered if this could somehow be related to Charity, after all, apparently Mr. DeSade had mentioned whatever changed her was related to fish DNA. Was all this the result of whatever Madam Petri was working on? Or was it something else? What about the other students who had gone missing, the other ones who were supposed to be working on this ‘secret project’ that Mr. Innsmouth had told them about. Were they all like this too? What possible reason could there be for this?

She pushed the cart aside and headed down the hall. Feeding would have to wait; she had to tell Mr. Charcharias about this, he was the best one to go to. As she walked rapidly down the hall, she suddenly heard a pounding on the window next to her.

She turned to see Felicia again. She was floating in front of the glass; pounding on it was a balled fist.

“Felicia! Thank god!” Madoka exclaimed, “Listen, I’m going to get help for you . . . “

She stopped mid sentence as she realized that Felicia was pointing directly behind frantically gesturing with her hands. Feeling the hair on the back of her neck rise, Madoka suddenly became aware of a strong scent of ammonia. She turned around and her blood froze.

Behind her, things crawled, oozed and slithered forward. They filled the corridor, shambling forward greasily with grotesque sucking and slurping noises. These things were nothing like Felicia or Charity, whatever they were; Madoka didn’t think they had ever been human. They had large bullet shaped heads that didn’t sit on any visible neck. Their eyes stared out at her, the size of softballs: unblinking, a light grey color, and wet like they had been crying. Their skin was scaled and oozed with moisture, their whole bodies a sickly yellowish grey color. There was no visible nose or ears, and only a small circular hole served as a mouth. Gill like slits ran across their cheeks and along their sides.

Their torsos were slightly human shaped, although their arms seemed to have no bones and flailed like tentacles with hands on the end of them. Fins adorned their backs and arms and their hands were webbed like a frog’s, the fingers hard to discern. Their lower halves were nothing but an octopus like mass of writhing tentacles, on which they slithered and flopped forward, trailing grease and oil on the floor.

The effect of them was so repulsive, Madoka felt her stomach churn. She turned to run but the fishmen, or whatever they were, leapt at her at an amazing speed. They were on her in a second.

While it was true that before Madoka had lived in Rina she had mostly been a dating sim and adult game program, she had also functioned as a sparring program for martial arts lessons and knew quite a few self defense moves, and she was damned if she was going to go down with out a fight. She spun around and roundhouse kicked the first fishman in the face. It was like kicking a bag of Vaseline, the face sunk in as if there was no skull at all in it. Still, she’d hurt it, and as the others came in, she let loose on them with ever move she knew. Poor little Rina couldn’t do this stuff, but Madoka knew how to kick ass.

As the fishman attacked, Madoka let loose with a furious assault of fists and feet, punching and kicking and dodging as the gross monstrosities came at her. There were too many of them, she knew it, but all she had to do was give herself time to escape. That in and of itself could be a problem.

The other problem was that while Madoka had a lot of hand to hand combat knowledge, she had only used it in cyberspace. She had no practical experience using it in the body she now shared with Rina outside of Miss Anvil’s class, and it wasn’t like she had been practicing every morning as a work out like Zippy did. Her moves were clumsy and uncoordinated, but they smacked hard at the fish men and though they had no bones, the blows did hurt them. In fact, it was probably a good thing that they didn’t have bones, other wise this might have really hurt.

As tentacles and hands reached for her she batted them away and twisted out of reach. She shoved them back enough that she was able to make a run for it. She darted down the hall with the sickening sound of the oozing fish men coming close behind her. She pushed forward as fast as Rina’s frail legs could carry her. She spied a door up ahead that she knew led to one of the pump utility rooms that pumped the water through the tanks. She jumped to the side as a fish man grabbed at her legs and lost her footing.

She hit the ground and slid across the floor, spinning around and kicking the advancing fish man in the face. It made a satisfying thunk and the gross figure fell back. She threw herself at the door yanked it open. She knew she could close this door and lock it and then run across to the other door and up to the upper levels were she could find the Werks or hopefully a teacher.

Leaping into the open door way, she slapped it hard and locked it, grossly severing the tip of an extended tentacle as she did so. She stopped, breathing heavily, as she could hear the sounds of the fish men pounding on the door on the other side. Sweat covered her body and her heart was thumping in her chest. She turned around and all of a sudden her blood turned to ice.

Everywhere she looked, she could see nothing but wide unblinking eyes staring at her. The room was filled with them, and they were blocking off her escape route. They gurgled and made strange clicking sounds and then they surged forward at her, reaching out with waggling oozing tentacles. She almost chocked on the noxious fumes the horrid creatures emanated from their disgusting bodies.

She darted to the side, but felt the tentacles wrap around her and pull her back. She rolled over and kicked out, sending her foot hard into one of the creatures’ head. Again, it was like kicking a sack of jelly but the thing grunted in pain and flew back. As it dragged its tentacles over her, her exposed skin felt searing hot pain. Furiously, Madoka pounded and kicked all around her, her moves no longer the stylized martial arts from her gaming days, but the desperate attacks of a cornered animal. She struck hard at anything fleshy near her, trying to dislodge herself from them and get away.

She finally managed to wiggle free of their grasps. There was only one other door in the room, and it led a utility closet. She ran for it fighting her way through the encroaching fish men, every punch, ever contact with their horrible skin made her want to vomit. Shoving a huge one out of her way, she threw herself at the half open door. Darting through it, she turned and slammed the door shut.

She grabbed a large thick handled mop and slid it into the door handle, barring the door, and then grabbed the only chair she saw in the room and propped it up as well against the knob. That wouldn’t keep them out forever, but she was safe for now. The problem was, she was trapped, and she now had no way out. The door vibrated and shook as the fish men pounded angrily on it. Desperately, Madoka looked around for something to use as a weapon.

The room was practically empty, only a janitor’s cart and a selection of mops, brooms and buckets were around; aside from the large pipes running along the walls in which Madoka could hear the water being pumped through.

She was bruised all over, and her arms and legs had bloody scraps on them. Those fish men must have had teeth inside their tentacle’s suckers, like a squid. She felt dizzy, and worried that she had lost too much blood.

All of a sudden, she realized why she was feeling light headed.

No! Oh no! Not now!

But she could feel it happening, her personality fading into the background. Rina was coming out at the worst possible time. She could feel herself sinking fast. She fumbled for her cell phone, useless for calls within the school, but useful always for communicating with Rina. She flipped it open and hit the video record.

“Rina,” She said hurriedly, “Whatever you do, don’t open that door. There are things out there, horrible things that want to do horrible things to you, to us. You need to figure out a way to get out of there and get help. They’re coming for you and that door won’t hold forever. You need to figure out a way to fight them.”

After a second, she added, “Be strong, Rina.”

And then, the world faded away to black and all the Madoka disappeared into a void of nothingness.

Rina blinked, the room coming into focus. Why, she wondered, was she in a utility closet? She looked around and didn’t see any of Madoka’s boy toys, thank god. But then she heard the pounding on the door as it violently shook and heaved against the barrio. She jumped back, fear flooding her. What had happened? How had she gotten here? She back up, her lips trembling as she stared at the door: What was out there? What was trying to get in?

Another heavy pound on the door caused Rina to scream loudly. From beyond the door she could hear gurgling and clicking and other foul sounds. She shrieked in terror, wondering what sort of polluted horrors were coming for her.

She realized she had her phone in her hand and quickly pulled up the latest video message. Instead of the smug, playful expression Madoka usually wore, Rina was greeted by a panicked, apprehensive face. As she listened to the message, her horror and terror grew. She dropped the phone to the floor and continued backing up covering her mouth and staring and the shaking door.

“Be strong, Rina.” Were the last words of the message.

Rina covered her ears and sank to the floor. She wanted this to go away, she wanted this to be some kind of bad dream. She wanted it all to go away, to wake up safe in her own bed.  She was curling up in a fetal position, her eyes closed and her whole body seized with shakes as fear burned in her belly and ice flowed through her veins. Tears ran down her cheeks as she started sobbing and crying as she huddled in a ball on the floor, with no idea of how to save herself.



As it turned out, The Manhattan Project’s karaoke night had an 80s theme this time, although not everyone was sticking to it. Someone was singing Britney Spears when they came in, for example. The familiar set up of the main lounge was now decorated like an MTV set from the period, all weird shapes, splattered with florescent paint and everything in bright, rather offensive, day glow colors. A few of the patrons had even shown up in costume, two girls from the school wearing tight tube dresses that would have been sexy had they not been so bright they actually hurt your eyes to look at them. The waiters and waitresses were all dressed up like icons from the era: Don Johnson, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Elvira and such, and even a Ronald Reagan.

Still, after a few drinks the Shark Tank Guild were all having a pretty good time, dancing and flirting and talking. Finally, after enough lubricant, they decided to get in on the singing.

To start things off, The Farrell Twins got up on stage and sung a duet of “Hungry Like The Wolf” By Duran Duran, belting it out with such fervor that they won a lot of applause despite having average voices. The short micro dresses and tube tops they were wearing probably helped as well.

Zippy got in on the act by singing “She Blinded Me With Science” By Thomas Dolby. She was no Celine Dion, but Zippy cold carry a tune and the ironic choice of the song made most people, especially Kyle, smile a lot.

To everyone’s surprise, Lizzy got up next and belted out “Neon Knights” by Black Sabbath with an appropriately growling voice that seemed fitting. She also banged her head pretty well until Zippy was worrying that she’d get whiplash.

Next up on stage, Krystal popped up and sang “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper. Zippy couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of affirmation by Krystal asserting herself as girl completely. She did seem to be singing towards the boys more then the girls. It might have been her imagination, but was she singing to Kevin a lot more?

Eve was next, who sang a very passable version of Bauhaus’ “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”, which came as no surprise. She was followed up by Kyle who dedicated his song to the creation of Stitchy and sand “Eye Of The Tiger” by Survivor, the same music Zippy had used when she presented her to the class.

Even Charity seemed to be letting loose a little as she climbed up on stage, tail swishing, wide eyes glowing, and sang “I Wanna Rock N’Roll All Night” By Kiss (which, technically, was the 70s but no one said anything). It was good to see her cutting loose like that, but Zippy still worried about her a little bit, especially since she was one of the STG now. She was one of them.

The biggest surprise of the night happened when Lorne got up on stage and belted out not a rock song, but “Music Of The Night” from the musical Phantom Of The Opera, in a damn near pitch perfect operatic rendition, his singing voice being strong and sweet and enough to give Pavarotti a run for his money. He sang it so well and so beautifully, that there were actually a few tears in the audience. Zippy marveled that this incredible voice had been hiding in that small creepy looking body this whole time and no one ever knew it.

And then, Stitchy got up on stage with her customary enthusiasm and took up the mike. She then opened her mouth and proceeded to let loose with such an awful distorted screeching voice that no one could tell what she was singing. As Stitchy belted out the tune, filling the air with the horrendous sound of her ‘singing’ voice, people were clapping hands over their ears and some left entirely, running for the door.

Plugging her ears, Krystal grimaced, “We gave her the best ears we could find and she’s totally tone deaf.”

Dryly, Lizzy said, “I’m so glad she doesn’t sing in the shower.”

Picking up her digital recorder, Zippy ducked behind a booth and spoke into it, “Subject revealing dreadful new weapon . . . possible military applications.”

Undaunted, Stitchy cheerfully continued to sing passionately, and quite badly.



Rina huddled in the corner of the utility room, her knees drawn up to her chest, her whole body shaking in fear as the things outside pounded on the door. She’d been here for hours now, but the door seemed to be holding. It wouldn’t hold forever, she knew that. What would it be like, she wondered despondently, to die at the hands of such creatures? Would it be long and painful, was that the horrible fate that was in store for her. She cried and trembled, unrelenting fear clutching her body. It wasn’t fair, she didn’t want to die like this, and she didn’t want to die at all. They hadn’t found a cure for Miss Piranha’s cancer yet, and now Miss Piranha would probably out live her. She whined in total desperation.

(Be strong, Rina.)

Madoka’s words came back to her. She knew she should listen to them, but she wasn’t strong and bold and shameless like her. In many ways, she sometimes envied the daring way Madoka went about things and wished she could be more like her. She would never have told anyone that, but it was true. There were so many things she hadn’t told anyone, and now she never would. She sobbed miserably into her knees as the door cracked and began to give way.

(Be strong, Rina.)

But how, how could she possible do anything to save herself and Madoka? There was no way out of this room except the one door. She looked around the place and soon her eyes were drawn to the pipes that ran through the room up the walls. She moved over to the closest one. These pipes connected to the levels above. To small for her to escape through, but maybe there was a way she could call for help.

She suddenly remembered, as part of some of the courses, all the students learned old Morris Code. Leaning over the pipe, she began to tap out dashes and dots, hoping the sound would travel enough. She called for help, said who she was, and where she was trapped and what was happening, and again begged for help. She was sure no one would hear it, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

To her utter astonishment, she got a reply almost immediately, tapping coming though the pipes in response “Hold tight, Rina. I will go for help”

Whoever it was, hadn’t given their name.



Rina, of course had no way of knowing that her message had been received inside the tanks, by none other then Felicia, who finished tapping her response, floating mid level with her tentacles writhing about like a great billowing ball gown. She turned and raced through the aqueducts, the funnels on her hips jetting her through the water at break neck speeds. She shot through the maze of tunnels, heading upward every chance she got.

She had to find someone, even though it might mean exposing herself in her gross new form. She didn’t want to do that, but she couldn’t leave Rina to die or worse become like her at the hands of those horrible abortions. She had no idea what they were or where they’d come form, only that they did this to her, and she hated them.

Felicia raced around a corner and though a large grate that the squeezed through easily.

She suddenly found herself face to face with the tooth filled mouths of Abbey And Britney.



Still trembling, Rina began to look around herself, trying to see if anything in here could be used to defend herself. Her eyes rested on the big mop on the side. She stood up and grabbed it. It was heavy, but she though she could swing it. She put her foot on the front and with some effort broke the mop head off the top. She then pulled one of the metal buckets aside and used the edges to sharpen the broken end, until she had a primitive spear to use.

Next she grabbed up the cleaning supplies, looking them over and began to mix some of them. When she was done, she put them on the cart and pushed it in front of her. She ripped off the bottom of her skirt and used part of it to tie her hair back, and the over one to wrap around her head like a bandana to keep sweat out of her eyes. That done, she ripped more of her skirt off and tied it around her mouth and nose, her skirt now a short as Madoka liked to wear them, but modesty be damned in this situation. Those things were noxious, and she also didn’t want to breath what she had in store for them.

Gripping her impromptu spear, she looked at the pounding door. Fear was starting to be replaced by something rare for her: Hate. She hated these things that would try to take not only hers, but Madoka’s life as well. They would not get her without a fight. She knew that’s how Zippy would do it, battling head on. She could do this, she told herself, and she could be like Stitchy and Madoka. The wood was starting to splinter in places and she could hear the foul sounds on the other side as the wet thumps of the fish men continued relentlessly. The noxious odor of ammonia was now wafting into the room, causing Rina to hate them even more. She felt a rage burning inside her now, mingling with her fear, a rage that was energizing and fueling her.

(Be strong, Rina.)

She gritted her teeth, and waited for them to come.



Hi, there, Krystal here, everyone’s favorite transgendered mad science student, here to tell you that in the next chapter Rina must face those revolting fish men and hope someone rescues her. More plans are made for the Atom Smashers ball and we all learn some disturbing things about Madame Petri in the next chapter of Zippy Zipperdale: Moderately Mad Scientist: “The Twelfth Experiment”.

Eureka! I’ve got it!
















































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