Connie Doesn't Like Ron Paul, Part Three

Connie Doesn‘t Like Ron Paul, Part Three
by JamesE82



Had she been alive, she would have feared. She was not, so she remained quiet and still. She remained hidden in shadows, and observed, as she had been ordered.

The female thing known as a kamrat had watched as the modified Stryker sped down the street leading to the factory, came to a stop inside the fence, and sat while a lieutenant in the AFPD rushed to its side. The man had yelled and gestured, then quickly stepped back as the door opened, only to take a few more steps away as the driver emerged and heavily set her giant red combat boots onto the asphalt.

The Crimson Conservative.

Now the silent observer documented the slaughter, recording the redheaded giantess as she did what an entire SWAT team had been dispatched to accomplish. She watched as the Amazon laughed at the bullets that bounced off of her skin, smoke trailing from the cigarette poking out the side of her sneering mouth as she strode without hesitation towards the besieged building.

“Avon calling, dammit!” the woman bellowed, and sent the heavy iron doors of the factory cartwheeling through space with a single solid kick. The kamrat had changed position in time to see the doors fly off their hinges, one of them nearly slicing an Iranian with an AK-47 in half before it imbedded itself halfway into the wall behind him.

Her camera took in the massacre, lens focused on the giantess and her weapons, and the destruction they caused. The AA-12 shotgun in her left hand threw lead at targets with what was an almost reckless lack of restraint, while S&W500 in her right hand seemed to send its Magnum rounds into targets in a more efficient fashion.

As man after man fell to her firearms, her fists, and even her boots, the observer followed the Crimson Conservative, always from the safety of darkness, always on silent and nimble feet that took her from corner to corner, shadow to shadow, quickly and without a sound. Her terrible steel blades were out, but remained unused; the kamrat was a creature capable of dealing death with inhuman skill, but would not do so during her current mission. It was the laughing giantess who killed the terrorists and their supporters in the Iranian factory that day, unknowingly putting on a scarlet show for the stealthy undead watcher in black.

And later, when she received the video from her servant, the brutal performance would be watched again, and very closely, by Dr. Josefine Mengele.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Alright, I think this does it for the “Ron Paul” misfire of a series, which was started here, , and continued here, . Like the man in the title’s campaign, this story just never gained steam, did it?

As with the zombie sniper picture I posted last week, the above artwork was a creation of the great . There must be something about my doktor and her servants that gets his imagination going, because he is the one who designed this striking Mengele minion. He also came up with the creature’s name, which is translated as “comrade.”

is where this took place, a city that will shortly have a previously owned factory on the market. It’s not in a great neighborhood, and there’s been some recent property damage, but potential buyers should be happy to hear that the blood and bone fragments have been almost completely cleaned up.

The Crimson Conservative and the mentioned Dr. Josefine Mengele are my creations, © 2009.

Comments welcome, even if it’s to give me the address of a good latex fetish website or two…