Looking for Dark Alleys
After beating up a mugger, Naomi started to develop a particular bloodlust
By Mongoose750 (mongoose750@juno.com)
Cody Mack was at his girlfriend's house watching television. They've just finished seeing their favorite show.
"How are things at your new job?" Candace Mills said. She was a 5'10" woman, slim with short blond hair. She was wearing blue sweats with white socks.
"Not bad, I can't complain," he replied. Cody stood 6'1", had a slim build himself, and had short black hair. "The hours are nice, the pay is good, and all I do is lift and load."
"Does it pay better than mugging?" Candace quipped.
"It's consistent, so it pays better in the long run. I thought you wanted me to stop being a thug?"
"Yes, but remember you're my thug," she replied, kissing him on the cheek.
They flipped through various channels until they ran across a woman's sumo tournament. One of the middleweight matches was about to start, and the two women entered the ring. Cody sat up in his seat.
"Wait a minute, I know that woman!" He cried.
"You know her?" Candace asked.
"Well not personally; not the way you might be thinking."
"I know you're faithful, and from the look on your face, it didn't look like it was a nice meeting."
"No it wasn't; she's the reason I went straight."
Naomi Carter entered the sumo ring; her eyes like lasers were burning into her opponent. The Japanese-American stood 5'5", with long black hair tied up in a ponytail, an attractive oval face with expressive eyes, and a curvy, powerful build. Wearing the deep purple leotard of her stable, tied with a blue sumo belt, her eyes remained locked on her foe, and nowhere else.
Brenda, her opponent, noticed Naomi's attempts at intimidation, and unfortunately they were working. Donned in a green leotard with a white belt, the 5'8" white brunette suddenly busied herself with spreading the loose sand of the playing field with her toes to keep her mind off Naomi's stare. She'd heard of Naomi's prowess, and her reputation as a throwing specialist. Her skills were on a par with Bridgett, an undefeated wrestler from another stable. In fact, she was the only wrestler to almost beat Bridgett; a toe planted outside the ring was what ended the close match.
I can't think about that now, Brenda thought. I'm taller, and I have a longer reach. I could push her out quickly, before she had a chance to act.
A little more reassured, Brenda stepped behind her line to face Naomi. As they got into position, Brenda looked up into the face of Naomi, whose facial expression slowly changed from a stern look to a full-blown smile.
And Brenda realized she'd already lost.
The next thing she knew, Brenda found herself lifted and thrown out of the ring, and to the edge of the matted barrier. The tape of the match would reveal that she froze upon seeing Naomi smile, and Naomi took that split second to practically toss her out of the ring.
Brenda hoped she'd never had to face Naomi again.
Cody told Candace of his near destruction at the hands of Naomi when he tried to mug her.
[In The Dark Alley ' Mongoose.]
"That was why I wanted you to stop mugging people. You could get hurt," Candace said.
"That's usually what people are told to keep from getting mugged," Cody replied.
"Yeah, but did you see that?" Candace pointed at the screen. "She threw that poor woman out of the ring! She could've killed you!"
"Tell me about it! And she had that same smile too."
"At least she wasn't a heavyweight."
"I wouldn't even look at anyone that huge, wait, I have mugged a football player once. He gave me his money and his Rolex#. Nice guy; he just gave it to me. But this woman was mean."
Candace watched the next match, which was much gentler. "Yeah, I see that."
Cody kissed her on the lips. "Well I've got work in the morning, with nicer people than in that ring. Goodnight."
"Goodnight honey."
Naomi had showered and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. She closed her locker door as two other wrestlers in her Indianapolis stable, a lightweight and a heavyweight came by.
"Geez, Naomi! Were you trying to scare or throw that woman into retirement?" The lightweight said.
"I think a mixture of both," the heavyweight added.
"They say you can find out an opponent's intent when you look at their eyes. I saw hers, and I found a woman who didn't know what she was doing there," Naomi explained.
"So you assisted her on her way out?" The lightweight said, laughing.
"Sure," Naomi smirked.
"That smile you gave her, that was downright spooky, and I'm on your team!"
The heavyweight remarked, "Do me a favor, Naomi; don't gain any weight!"
"For that matter, don't lose any weight either!" The lightweight added.
Naomi chuckled as they left. She was not one to brag about her victories, but that match was pathetic. Even if she wasn't stunned by her smile, Naomi could've executed any number of takedowns or throws on her victim with no sweat. In fact, she only took a shower out of habit. The team they faced was poorly trained. Small wonder it was a clean sweep for her team. She had more of a challenge taking on that mugger a month and a half ago.
Ah, the mugger, Naomi thought with a smile. Since the police scared her off from finishing him, she'd taken strolls down that end of the street, hoping he'd pop up. In fact, she had strolled down a number of streets in bad or questionable neighborhoods, and the worst she received was requests for autographs. At least her cardiovascular system was getting a workout. Since that time, her strength increased, her speed was more explosive, and she developed new skills and techniques, and she wanted to give them a workout too.
Since that incident, Naomi has had this urge, a bloodlust for lack of a better name, to find some crook and destroy them. Maybe she got it from those Punisher comic books she snatched from her brother when he wasn't looking so long ago, she wasn't sure. But her journey to becoming an official professional sumo wrestler was only a few matches away. When that happened, she would probably have to quit her day job (no big loss there), and make a few more changes. She wouldn't have time to walk down strange streets. She wanted to bag at least one bad guy before that change happens.
The next day at work, Naomi found out her shipment of DVD's came in. Unfortunately, they would not be able to deliver them to her apartment; she'll have to go down there and pick them up herself at the warehouse. Not a problem, she reasoned.
The DVD's were a selection of female sumo matches from around the world. She was most interested in this "Aqua Sumo" that they performed in Hawaii. The publishing house also threw in a bonus DVD entitled "23 Killing Techniques of the Chinese Military." She received the idea of seeing foreign sumo matches from Bridgett, her good friend and sumo nemesis from another stable. She realized she'd have to hide the Chinese military DVD when friends come over, but at the moment, she couldn't wait.
Quitting time came and went, and Naomi jumped in her car to pick up her DVD collection. The clerk at the warehouse apologized for the trouble, but Naomi told them it was no big deal. She waited anxiously for them to arrive, and driving a few miles to get them was no problem.
As she placed the DVD's in her car, which faced one of the loading bays of the warehouse, she saw the loaders do their thing, and thought nothing of it, until she saw a familiar face. She stopped what she was doing, and ventured closer for another look.
It was him!
She checked the sign out front for closing time, and drove the car to park in a more discreet place. She smiled to herself. She didn't have to wait long. When the time came, she saw he was the last to leave, and alone. Perfect.
Another day at work ended for Cody. A man could get used to this. He goes to work, leaves work, and goes over to his girlfriend's house, where she fixes him a home cooked meal. Considering how good she cooks, he has to work hard the next day to whittle it off. The grin on his face faded when he heard a vaguely familiar voice.
"Ah, Mr. Mugger, we meet again!"
Cody looked near the end of the steps to see a woman waving at him. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a black pinstripe skirt with the matching jacket hanging on a nearby hook. With this, she had a white short sleeve blouse, black hose, and black loafers. Recognition came quickly.
"We have some unfinished business," Naomi said as she kicked off her shoes and darted up the stairs. A second later, Cody found himself slammed against one of the warehouse doors. Naomi grabbed hold of the lapels on his shirt, and holding them in a peculiar way. Her hands crossed on the grip.
"You're the sumo wrestler!" He gasped.
"Yes, I am, and I'm about to turn professional, not that you'll be around to see any of it. Any final words?" Naomi said.
"Don't hurt me! After you, I don't mug people anymore!"
"After me? You mean I scared you straight?"
"Yeah, I got this job, I'm happy, my girlfriend's happy, it's all good!"
Naomi felt flattered and disappointed at the same time. She sent someone on the straight and narrow, but she still wanted blood. With the way her hands were positioned on his lapel, she could execute what is known in judo as a lapel choke. She pulled on his lapel, making him gag.
"And I should believe you, because?" She sneered.
Cody was trying to give a quick answer while he still had breath to give it. "The number of muggings has gone down in the last month because I quit!" He gasped. "Everyday, I go to work, then go to my girlfriend's house to eat dinner. Then we watch TV, and I go home!"
Naomi studied his face, the eyes in particular, and released him, letting him slide down the warehouse door.
"All right. It's a boring life, but I'll let you keep it for now," she said.
As Naomi turned and walked down the stairs, Cody croaked, "Thank you. We saw your match last night."
Naomi bent down to pick up her shoes. "Oh you did, did you?" She replied.
"Well I, I'm probably the last person to tell you this, but you're like Superwoman."
Naomi threw her shoes in the car. "Superwoman?"
"Yeah, I don't think you know your own strength. Do you know how hard you threw that woman?"
"What if I do?"
"You need to be careful, you might hurt someone."
Naomi got in her car. "If you don't keep your nose clean, that someone may be you. Take care." She closed the door and pulled away.
At least I convinced a mugger to get off the streets, Naomi thought as she drove home. But the nerve of telling me to be careful? I don't rob people at gunpoint.
After a rigorous workout with weights, and a hearty dinner, Naomi settled down and watched some of her DVD's. She had the urge to walk the streets, but for that evening she suppressed it.
In fact, she didn't hit the streets until a week and a half later. Her Indianapolis stable had an upcoming match with a stable based near Cincinnati. They were much better trained than the wrestlers in the last match; in fact they were a handful for the powerful Southern Indiana stable. Even the fabled "Sisters of Thunder" in the heavyweight class of that stable didn't have an easy victory. The workouts were hard and long, and as if by an unseen cue, work was hard and long as well. That same coworker who got sick at the drop of a hat thought she caught some small plague and was off for three days. Finally sumo practice took a day off, leaving Naomi with just having to work late. This time she didn't mind.
That morning she donned a sleeveless white blouse with an off-white business suit and skirt with brown trim, and white pantyhose. She left her apartment humming, and then quickly returned because she forgot her shoes. Slipping on some brown mules, and double-checking to see if she had everything, she left again.
She had a good day at work. Even her boss and her chronically ill coworker were tolerable to deal with. Naomi took care of her duties with no problem.
As her workday ended that evening, she walked out of her office and the office building ready to curl up on her sofa and watch one of her sumo DVD's. As soon as she hit the evening air however, she had another idea. Her car was already parked at a nearby parking garage, and her fee for the day was already paid, so going for a little stroll won't raise the price any higher.
She pulled off her mules and put them in her large purse, pausing to feel the warmth of the sidewalk under her nylon-clad feet. Next, she removed her jacket, folded it, and placed it in her purse as well. That was the beauty of carrying a large purse; you can carry almost anything in it.
As she set off in a random direction, she wasn't expecting to find any action. It was just a nice night for a little walk. After strolling about five blocks, Naomi figured it was time to turn around and head for home, when she heard someone cry, "Please don't hurt me!"
That was followed by the reply, "That depends on what you have to give us, darlin'!"
Naomi's heart skipped a beat. She took off running toward where the sounds came from. In a semi-darkened street corner, hidden behind some shop already closed for the evening, was a terrified young black woman cowering in fear against a wall. She was short, about 5'2", and petite. From the way she was dressed, it looked like she was on her way back from one of the numerous nightclubs in town when she was nabbed. Standing over her was some man, a biker wannabe, dressed in dirty blue jeans, a tattered white T-shirt, and a worn black leather jacket. While he dressed like his clothes were in a war, the man himself was rather clean cut, with short blond hair, a fresh pale complexion, and bright white teeth that seemed to shine in the darkness. The second man, hovering around the two and giggling, was a black man dressed more appropriately for the spring weather. He wore a large blue T-shirt, untucked over his sagging blue jeans. He had a small Afro, and from his facial expressions, he liked giggling a lot. Both men stood around 5'7" with slim builds.
"Let her go!" Naomi yelled at the two attackers. As she said it and upon later reflection, she knew they weren't going to let her go on her say so; but it was one of those situations where something had to be said.
Her prediction was true when both men turned and looked at her. Her next prediction was true when the white guy said, "This is none of your business. Walk away."
"I'm making it my business," Naomi growled. Without realizing it, she started giving them that laser-like stare she gave her opponents in the sumo ring. It did not go unnoticed.
"Look at her face, man, she's crazy!" The black man exclaimed, backing up a step. "She's got no shoes, man!"
Naomi always found it amusing how even the fiercest adversary hesitates a little when you make yourself look like you were nuts. She considered it as potent a weapon as her throws. She never told anyone, but she would practice those looks in front of a mirror at home. She didn't think about it, but facing them in her stocking feet gave an extra edge to the "crazy" angle. For a moment she thought (to her disappointment) that they would back off. But the white guy recovered.
"Get her too, man; she looks like she got money," he said. "She ain't nothing."
The black man recovered and charged Naomi. She responded by charging herself. She rammed her right shoulder into his gut, while grabbing his belt with her right hand (it wasn't a sumo belt, but in this case, any belt will do), as her left arm wrapped around his right leg. She quickly stood up, throwing the man down on his back hard. He lay stunned with the breath knocked out of him. Naomi figured he would be incapacitated long enough to be finished off later.
On her research of the sport when she first started, Naomi discovered that sumo was first a method of combat before it was used as a form of entertainment. That further intrigued her to study and practice all the techniques and tactics used. For example, sumo wrestlers would spend time striking their palms on a bamboo post, toughening them. Naomi bought herself some bamboo and string, and made a post of her own to strike after work (it was also a great stress reliever as well). One of her teammates, Eve, went one step further, developing an "iron palm." Since she didn't get to try her version on the mugger the last time, she practiced a little harder on her palms.
The white man turned toward her and reached inside his jacket pocket for a weapon. But as fast as he was, Naomi was faster, striking the center of his face with her right palm with the speed of a cobra. She felt the man's nose explode as the nasal bones broke under her hand. The force of the blow sent the man slamming backwards against the wall, his left hand flying to his face, while he used his right arm to fend off his attacker.
Among the number of sumo throws Naomi knew, there were a select few she refused to use on her opponent in the name of friendly competition because of their potential to seriously injure them. On the street against a street thug, that was a different story.
She wrapped her left arm around the white man's right arm, forming a one arm lock, then grabbed the lapel of his jacket and pivoted hard to her right. The maneuver threw him face down on the ground and broke his arm in the process. The only thing that stopped him from crying out was the wall his head hit on the way down.
Naomi turned to the woman and said, "Go."
And she was gone, managing to squeak out a quick "Thank you" on the way out.
With the victim gone, Naomi strolled over to the black guy, who was getting up. She jumped, landing her feet on his shoulder blades. The sudden weight slammed him back on the ground. Sitting down on the small of his back, Naomi wrapped her hands under his chin and suddenly pulled back. The man feebly tried to reach around to grab her or claw at her hands to release the hold, but Naomi was sitting too far back, and her hands were locked.
Naomi heard the man's attempts to scream, but with his mouth clamped shut, he could only make a high-pitched noise through his lips. She glanced at the white guy. He moaned a little, but he wasn't making any attempt to get up. She still had plenty of time to take care of her first victim.
She took a deep breath, and started pulling back further. Naomi was curious if she would be able to hear the bones breaking in his neck or spine, so she kept her ear attuned. The black man squealed even louder as his body was going in a direction it was not made to go.
What will I do with the other one, Naomi pondered to herself. Maybe she should try giving him a heart punch, disrupting his heartbeat. Yeah, that would be cool. Maybe if she delivered it as a stomp, it would be more effective.
The black man's reactions were getting more frantic now. Naomi grinned to herself. She was getting close. Just one good jerk, and . . .
Suddenly Naomi stopped. And what? The realization hit her; she was moments away from killing two men in cold blood. She passed the realm of self-defense a long time ago. The victim ran to safety, her attackers were already subdued; there was no need to go any further. She let go of the black man's head. Like a spring, his head shot forward, hitting the ground face first. His mouth, now freed, delivered a loud cry of anguish. It was enough to raise the dead, which he would've been if she gave one more jerk.
Naomi rose quickly. She looked around for her purse, only to find it's been hanging from her shoulder the whole time. She glanced at her soles. Her nylons were filthy, but that's to be expected from walking without shoes, which she did every time she left work anyway. She quietly and quickly backed out, and then walked a little briskly toward the parking garage. If police or anybody appeared, she would be hard-pressed to explain the two badly injured men left behind a shop. There's no doubt she would be picked up for attempted manslaughter. Once the white guy recovered, he could help his friend leave. They'll have a broken nose, broken arm, and a very sprained back to deal with, but at least they'll live.
After about a block or so, she slowed her pace. There haven't been any patrol cars, or very many people on the street who even noticed her presence, so she should be safe. She walked by one store that had in its display window a large mirror. After checking her appearance, she jokingly gave a double biceps pose. Then she took another look at herself.
She was Naomi Marie Carter, the daughter of Fred and May Carter, her father adopted by Ruth and Boaz Carter on the north edge of town. As long as she could remember, she'd always been goal-oriented and ambitious, with a hyper-competitive streak. Those qualities have served her well through school and college, especially when she played a pick-up game of rugby, and as a discus thrower on her school's track team.
However, that same competitive streak had got her in trouble as well. As one old friend had told her more than once, life was not a full-contact sport. She eventually toned it down, lowering her expectations, and worked at a job she did not like. Things were safe, but she was not happy.
And then came sumo.
Once she started training, her old competitive spirit came back. Once she saw the possibilities that came with being a successful sumo wrestler, she spent hours inside and outside the stable strengthening and hardening her body, and developing her technique. And now she was close to her goal of being a professional. She could almost taste it.
But there were side effects that came with that training. Being curvy and athletic most of her life, Naomi always had been strong and in good shape. But her sumo training had increased her strength and agility even more. How strong? Strong enough to launch most heavyweights from the ring. Strong enough to lift close to twice her weight.
Strong enough to break men's bones with no effort at all.
This began as a chance happening, a mugger who just wanted money; yet in the end, Naomi turned that into a contest too. She wanted to see how well her sumo skills could subdue her attacker. When the sound of police sirens prevented her from finishing, she was driven enough to walk the streets in search of any thug who wanted to rob/rape/beat her. Well she finally succeeded, over succeeded as a matter of fact.
Naomi glanced at herself. That one mugger - scratch that, former mugger - was right about one thing. In a sense, she had become a "superwoman." No jerk in their right mind would mess with her or the other women in the stable anymore than anyone would mess with that bodybuilder, Arnold what's - his - name, when he was in his prime. One of her teammates in the lightweight division, Lotus, was right. She was sumo now, more powerful than the average person.
"Keep your aggression in the ring," Naomi said to her reflection; then she turned and headed to the parking garage. If she got home early enough, she could take a peek at that aqua sumo DVD.
It was a sunny Saturday afternoon at the Other Worlds: Comics & More shop. The customers were doing the usual things, consisting of buying comics, and debating with each other about characters, storylines, and how well the artists may or may not have drawn said characters in the latest issue. A small group of teenagers sat at a table playing the latest role-playing card game. It made for a busy day.
The door opened, and a woman wearing black sunglasses, a tie dye T-shirt, well-worn blue jeans, and barefoot, walked into the store.
"Hey, how's my favorite sumo wrestler doing?" Jarred Joplin, a slim man with a gray ponytail said.
"Jarred, I'm your only sumo wrestler," Naomi replied, pulling her sunglasses off.
"That's not true; you brought one of your teammates, Eve with you a few weeks back."
"Ah yes, I remember. She thought you all were weird. Then again, this is a woman who reads research books in her spare time, so what would you expect? I'll bring in someone a little less serious next time. Is my file ready?"
"Yes it is," Jarred replied, opening up a folder. "Let's see, Punisher's War Journal, X-Men, and Black Widow; plus your request for the latest Wonder Woman, Power Girl, and Supergirl. Oh, I need to grab Spider Woman from the rack. So what's with the sudden interest with female superheroes?"
"Oh, no reason," Naomi said, smiling to herself.
A boy in his early twenties walked up to the counter. "I saw your last match. You destroyed that other woman in the ring," he said.
"Thank you," Naomi said.
"I heard she ran to the locker room in tears."
"Really? All I know is she ran away when I came to shake hands. I didn't think she'd be that spooked."
The boy laughed, and added, "My sister is thinking of being a sumo wrestler. How can she get hooked up with a stable like yours?"
"Oh, just give me her name and number, and my coach will be more than happy to take her. We're still looking for women. She'll be getting a call in a day or two. In the meantime, she needs to eat well, no stuffing herself or junk food, start hitting the weights religiously, and to start making funny faces in the mirror."
The boy gave a puzzled look. "Funny faces in the mirror? Why would she need to do that?" He asked as he wrote down his sister's name and number.
Naomi paid for her comics and put her sunglasses back on. "She'll know why. I'll call my coach right away. Take care," she said as she waved to everyone as she left. She'll give a quick call when she reached her car. Normally she'd stick around and talk longer, but she's been waiting for the climax of the Punisher and Birds of Prey storylines for a while now. But then, she's always anxious to read the exploits of her favorite crime fighters.
Crime fighters, huh. Well they're welcome to it. Any attempts on her part in the real world would get her incarcerated.
Halfway to her car, she just couldn't wait. She pulled out Birds of Prey and started reading it. It looked like Lady Shiva was at it again. She stopped short of her car door, and prepared to open it when she thought she saw a familiar pair of men walking across the street. The first one, a white guy, had his head bandaged and his nose taped. He also had one arm in a cast and sling.
I didn't think I slammed his head against the wall that hard, Naomi thought.
The second man, a black man, was relatively untouched, except he was walking slowly and gingerly.
The man shouldn't even be up and around; he needed to be in bed recovering, Naomi thought again. She would know; if she pulled any harder, his head would've been touching his buns.
Following an impulse, she tossed her comics in the car, taking off her sunglasses as she did so. From her vantage point, she started at them, arms folded. As before, the black man saw the look on her face first.
"Look man, it's that crazy lady again!" He said, pointing frantically at Naomi while he got her friends' attention.
"Where - oh man!" The white man replied. "It'll be a month before I can use my arm because of her!"
"Your arm? She almost made a pretzel out of me! The doc said if I was bent any further, I'd be paralyzed or dog food, man!"
Didn't they realize I can hear them? Naomi thought. For added effect, she grinned and took one step forward, like she was going to cross the street.
"She's coming this way!" The black man yelled.
"Let's get out of here!" The white man said as he started to flee.
"Wait for me!" The black man replied, hobbling as fast as he could down the sidewalk.
Naomi got in her car laughing. She was a little sorry she inflicted those injuries on them, but at least they'll think twice before mugging another person again. Even outside the ring, being feared can have its advantages.
And she drove home.
Black Widow, Punisher's War Journal, Spider Woman, and X-Men are registered trademarks of Marvel Comics. Birds of Prey, Power Girl, Supergirl, and Wonder Woman are registered trademarks of DC Comics.
For suggestions, comments, or story ideas, email the author at shrewsberry@juno.com.
If you enjoyed this story, perhaps you may want to read other stories from the Barefoot Heroines collection. There are a variety of stories to choose from. They can be found at http://www.the valkyrie.com?stories/mongoose/index.com.