Mark of the Amazon (Part III) By Smitty The massive Amazon that was once Randi Turnbull strode confidently, almost defiantly, along College Avenue, her lungs drawing in deeply the chilled night air. The main thoroughfare was virtually deserted at that hour but those souls who were out did double and triple takes as they passed. Randi said nothing, although the slightest hint of a grin could be detected around the edges of her mouth. She reveled in the attention, invited the long stares and the whispers. She reached the fraternity quad quickly and paused while taking in the landscape. She wanted to go to each house, to walk by, to entice as many men as she could. The Amazon could hear glasses breaking in a house to her left and headed in that direction, to Theta Chi. No one noticed as she ambled through the door. Inside, it was like every other fraternity house, places Randi used to avoid. It was loud - the music, the shouting. A layer of smoke hovered just below the ceiling and there were people everywhere. Most were drunk and the Amazon viewed the wasted guys with almost as much disdain as she did the women. As she scanned the room, she was oblivious to the two drunken frat boys who had sidled up to her. "No way, man, that's a guy," one told the other in a not-so-hushed whisper. "Gotta be. Check out those arms," said the second, his eyes bloodshot and barely open. Randi turned, slowly, a scowl replacing her mischievous grin. "Guy?" she growled, reaching out with her thick, vascular arm, then recoiling. She had a better idea, grabbing each of the inebriated frat boys around the wrist. She pulled their arms, drawing them up under her tattered sweater, allowing them to brush her cobblestone abdominals before placing them squarely on her breasts. "Whoa," exclaimed one of the undergrads. "Do those feel like some guy?" the Amazon asked disdainfully. The undergrads tried to fasten onto Randi's firm, round breasts but she was finished with them, pushing the frat boys away. They stumbled and fell, their faces etched with a look that conveyed both awe and satisfaction. Taking this in from across the expansive room was Tina Napier, who crushed a beer can with one hand and began to follow the Amazon through the house. Tina was all-conference in soccer and lacrosse, the result of growing up a tomboy. She was always considered big "for a girl" and once she arrived at college, decided to hit the weights to bulk up even more. The rigors of her varsity sports demanded strong legs and Tina built up her quadriceps to impressive slabs of muscle. And while most of her teammates spent only a small amount of time in the weight room, Tina was comfortable there. She never showed anyone, but was proud of how all the training paid off and how, when she flexed in front of the mirror, she could prod her biceps into impressive balls of muscle. But now she had competition, and she didn't like it. Stealthily, she pursued the invader, watching with contempt as she brushed from one room to the next, knocking aside whoever got in her way. Tina managed to keep her distance, but never let the Amazon out of her sight. Unsure of what she would do, whether she would confront this "usurper," Tina's decision was abruptly made for her. "Yo, Tina, check out the guns on this chick," came one shout. Tina tried to back away, to hide in a darkened corner, but it was no use. "Yeah, Tina, you're not the big girl on campus anymore," chuckled another. Randi turned slowly until she fixed upon the only other woman within her gaze. She sized her up, impressed with her leg development but unable to suppress a giggle as her eyes moved up Tina's body. "You got a problem?" Tina demanded, aware her pride and reputation were at stake for the first time. Randi turned her back and began striding away. "I'm talking to you," Tina continued. "You think you're so high and mighty? Well, I don't." That stopped the Amazon in her tracks. Again, she turned, this time slowly, her face reddening and the veins in her neck straining. "I really don't want to waste my time with you, little girl," she said through gritted teeth. "But this will be a quick lesson." Randi rolled up her right sleeve, revealing a densely packed arm, the horseshoe triceps clearly visible and a long bicep compacting as she bent to form a softball-sized peak that appeared to continue rising even after she flexed. Tina refused to show any sign she was intimidated but she swallowed hard as the Amazon moved closer and threw out her arm in challenge. Tina did not hesitate, rolling up her shift and placing her elbow down on a nearby table. Randi clasped her hand in Tina's, nearly enveloping it. She pumped just hard enough to communicate control without inflicting pain. Only at the last minute did her eyes make contact with Tina's, and then did Randi - the small particle of Randi Turnbull whose consciousness remained - sense Tina's despair. In that instant, she understood the fear and dread. The Amazon was snapped from her reverie by the sudden thrust on her arm as Tina threw all of her might into a quick, unexpected push. That tiny element of Randi's personality dissipated and a suddenly enraged Amazon countered with her far superior strength and snapped back Tina's arm, driving it through the wooden table and sending the co-ed hurtling toward a foosball table. She landed in a heap, groggy with a trickle of blood meandering down her forehead. "Anyone else?" the Amazon inquired. The room was suddenly silent as she rolled back what was left of her sleeve. "Didn't think so." She stood triumphantly and made her way out of the room. But she suddenly felt faint and stumbled as she crossed into the trophy room and had to brace herself against the door frame. "Just need some air," she thought, catching herself and, with a deep breath, sweeping toward a door, any door. The Amazon nearly feel through, relieved as the burst of cool air filled her lungs. But she remained light-headed. "Whoa, big mama," cackled a frat guy, a beer in one hand and a Frisbee in the other. She barely noticed, gathering all of her energy to brush past him and into the darkness. Alone, the Amazon could feel her strength ebbing, seemingly by the step. And as she moved, she could feel what little was left of her clothing becoming baggier. Her only thought was to continue on, although she had become unable to focus on a destination. As she looked down, she saw her once-chiseled arm appearing more feminine, lacking any hint of vascularity. "No," she mouthed, the word barely audible. Thoughts, almost imperceptible at first, began to surface. "Must get home." Randi almost tripped over her ill-fitting shorts, her bare feet now sensitive to every pebble and piece of glass. "Must get home." She fumbled her way out of the parking lot and into her quad, climbing instinctively through the first-floor window and plopping - exhausted and almost unconscious - onto her bed.