SRU: The Killer

by Julie

SRU:  Killer
By Julie


It was one of the loveliest spots in the area.  The black tarmac of the road 
wove around the gentle hills.  Their slopes were scattered with trees.  
Newly foliaged with the advance of spring, the trees were covered in 
dogwood blossoms.  The open spaces were filled with a profusion of 
wildflowers; their colors pleasing to the eyes and their aromas, the nose. 
The birds were singing their mating songs since spring is a time of 
rebirth.

The rest stop is located about fifteen miles outside the city limits.  
Because of the beauty and serenity of the area, it became a popular spot 
for some of the town's folk to go on picnics.  Today was no exception.  
There were several families enjoying quality time with each other.  A 
mother was enjoying the antics of her three small children while the 
father was grilling hamburgers.  An old man was feeding his dog.  
Groups of young people were tossing a Frisbee back and forth. A young 
couple was walking and holding hands.

Suddenly, the loud rumble of motorcycles marred the beauty of 
the moment.  Seven motorcycles pulled into the rest stop and after a 
minute of loud revving were silent.  With the cessation of the noise, there 
was total silence.  The leader of the group looked around with 
satisfaction.  The mother and father were gathering their children close.  
The young couple has stopped and the boy was holding the girl.  The 
Frisbee game had come to an end and the young people were looking 
everywhere except at the bikers.  The old man was still, calmly tossing 
French fries to his large dog. 

A scowl crossed the biker's face.  He saw the old man's lack of 
fear as an outright challenge.  He was not used to being ignored.  
Standing 6'4" and weighing 300 lbs., he would have been imposing 
under normal circumstances.  The black leather and chains that he wore 
did nothing to diminish that.  His head was shaved, but he wore a long 
beard.  There were several tattoos visible.  From his right shoulder to his 
elbow, were the letters K-I-L-L-E-R, drawn to look as if they were 
carved in his arm and dripping with blood which ran down to a dagger 
tattoo on his forearm.  On his left arm, running from his shoulder, 
circling the arm to his fingers was a snake coiled and ready to strike.  A 
dragon that disappeared around to his back covered the part of his chest 
that was visible through the opening of his leather vest.  One could 
rightly assume there were tattoos on the rest of his body as well.

As he turned towards the old man, the other members of the gang 
started grumbling.

"Hey, Killer.  You gonna teach that old man some respect?" one 
demanded.

Killer approached the old man.  As he got closer, he realized the 
'dog' was actually a wolf.  It watched his approach without any signs of 
aggression.  For a moment, he thought he detected interest in its eyes.  
He looked at the old man.  He was dressed in what looked to be a 
bathrobe.  Maybe he was senile or something.  He obviously didn't have 
enough sense to be afraid.  Well, it was up to him to enlighten the old 
man.  When he was about ten feet away, the old man finally looked at 
him.

"Hello Carroll," the old man said.  "It's a beautiful day isn't it.  A 
lovely day for a bike ride."

"Don't call me Carroll!  My name is Killer!" he roared.  "Who 
told you to call me Carroll, old man?"  

"No one told me, Carroll," the old man replied.  "Are you 
enjoying the beautiful weather?"

"The only thing I'm gonna enjoy is teaching you some respect for 
me and my gang," Killer growled.  "And my name is Killer!"

"Now Carr…er, Killer, I wouldn't do that if I were you," the old 
man admonished.  "You don't know who and what I am."

"Oh, yea? What you are is dead meat," Killer threatened, 
continuing forward.

"I have to warn you," the old man explained, "that I am a wizard 
and am more than able to take care of myself."

A gleam entered Killer's eyes.  "I am really going to enjoy 
pounding you into the ground, old man!"

"Now Killer, I don't think you know what it is you're doing right 
now," the old man said.

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing," Killer announced as he 
closed the distance between the two.  "I'm gonna teach you a lesson 
you're never gonna forget.  You won't make this mistake again, old 
man."

All eyes were on the two figures as the old man raised his arms 
over his head.  "This is your last chance Killer.  I will defend myself."

"Give it your best shot old man, because it will be your last," 
Killer promised.

Suddenly, the once blue skies turned dark.  Thunder boomed 
from all sides.  Lightning streaked from the heavens striking all around 
the rest stop.  The brightest bolt struck Killer and he was enveloped in a 
burst of light.  As suddenly as it had turned dark, the skies cleared.  
Everyone had been momentarily frozen, but now burst into action.  The 
mother and father grabbed their kids, jumped into their station wagon 
and sped down the road, closely followed by the mini van filled with the 
Frisbee players.  The motorcycle gang remounted their hogs and headed 
in the opposite direction with the young couple close behind in the boy's  
pickup.

In a matter of minutes, the only ones left at the rest stop were the 
old man, his wolf and a modestly lovely young lady.  She was not a 
ravishing beauty; her beauty was an inner beauty that came from a pure 
heart.  The floral print dress she was wearing came to just below her 
knees.  Her long brown hair was pulled back in a chignon. She glanced 
down at herself and saw breasts and a trim waist.  She held up her hands 
and saw smooth skin and pale pink polish on her nails.  Her large brown 
eyes filled with tears that spilled over and ran unchecked down her rosy 
cheeks.  She looked from her hands to the old man.

"Carol, are you alright?" the old man asked.

"Thank you," she cried.  "I have wanted this for so long.  I hated 
who I was.  I always wanted to be a woman, but I fought it in every way 
I could.  While the other bikers wore their hair long, I shaved my head.  
Instead of smooth skin, I covered myself in tattoos.  I fought every 
feminine thought by becoming the roughest, crudest person I could 
imagine.  I took my unhappiness out on others."

"When I realized who you were," she continued, "I knew this was 
my only chance to find happiness.  I knew I ran a chance of being turned 
into a toad or a newt, but even that would have been better than the life I 
was living."

"There was never a chance of that, Carol," the old man said 
smiling.  "I knew what you were crying out for and I gave it to you."

"Forgive me for asking," Carol said demurely, "but this isn't your 
style. From all that I've heard you're not normally a benevolent wizard.  
And the thunder and lightning…you are usually more subdued in your 
transformations, at least from all the stories I've heard."

"Special effects…gets them every time.  I needed everyone to 
clear out of here quickly.  I didn't want any witnesses to our 
conversation," the old man explained.  "The wizard's guild requires I do 
a certain percentage of pro bono work and you take care of that 
obligation for the next two years."

Carol nodded even though she didn't really understand about the 
guild, but she wasn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth.  They 
walked over to the Harley that was the only vehicle left at the rest stop.  
"How am I going to get back to town?" she asked.  "I can't possibly ride 
that," she said, gesturing towards the bike.  "It's too heavy for me now.  I 
could never manage it."  

The wizard snapped his fingers and the Harley became a late 
model Volvo sedan.  When she opened the door, she noticed a purse 
lying on the seat.  Taking it out, she looked at her driver's license.  The 
name on the license was 'Carol Keller'.

"Keller," Carol laughed.  "I like it.  How can I ever thank you?" 

"By forgetting your past life and being happy in your new life," 
the wizard answered.

"I know you'll see to it that I'll forget all that has happened but I 
hope you remember this," Carol said as she walked over and kissed the 
old man on the cheek.  Then she got in her car and drove away.

"That's why I wanted everyone out of here," he muttered as he 
caressed his cheek.  Then he whistled for his wolf and they both 
disappeared.

That evening, in her apartment, Carol was looking at her naked 
body in the mirror as she got ready for bed.  Tomorrow was the field trip 
for the kindergarten class she taught.  She noticed the blemish on her left 
buttocks.  It was a birthmark and the only thing marring her white skin.  
It almost looked like a tattoo.  If you stared at it real hard, it looked like 
three letters…S-R-U.

The End.


Author's note: I want to thank Bashful for his idea and for letting 
me write the story.
 

Copyright © 1999, 2000 by Julie. All rights reserved.
Email comments to Bashful526@aol.com.

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