PROLOGUE:  PRELUDE TO REDEMPTION

My body’s endowments had blossomed very early, and I was used to boys staring at me, ever since junior school.  In high school, while a lot of the other girls enjoyed being the object of lust, but I’d never been comfortable with it.  With my height (an even 6’0”), my natural blonde hair, the sapphire blue eyes I’d inherited from my father, and the dancer’s body I’d inherited from my mother, I was admittedly pleased that I’d been dealt an aesthetically favorable hand, genetically. 

And while I worked to stay pretty, I didn’t try to flaunt it or tease the boys like some of my friends did.  My father had warned me that could lead to a certain reputation which, in turn, could lead to trouble.  With my studies and with sports (I played soccer all four years in high school), I didn’t really have that much time for boys anyhow.  For whatever reason, this didn’t deter their efforts all that much.

When I enrolled in college, it only got worse.  The girls were as interested in sex as the boys, and I felt like I was way behind the learning curve, as everyone seemed to have had experience with it.  Pressure was all around.  If I waited too much longer, I might never meet that special someone.  My good friend and roommate, Amy, had been bugging me for the entire first semester to be more social and attend some of the fraternity parties she frequented.  “No pressure, just come out and meet some guys,” she said.  So I went. 

At the third party I had ever gone to, Amy and I, along with four of the seemingly friendly fraternity guys, went for a midnight stroll on the cliffs and dunes next to campus.  I felt as if I was normal, talking and maybe flirting a little bit.  One of the guys got a little rough with Amy trying to get a kiss, and I intervened, pushing him away.  We started to walk away, but things got out of control.  Right there, not 300 yards away from our campus, Amy was raped by all four of these animals, one by one, taking turns restraining me and forcing me to watch it all unfold. 

They left her laying there and turned their attention towards me.  I fought them off, fear and anger feeding my disgust, and hit one of them so hard he had lost a tooth.  They gave up trying to take me sexually, and simply started beating on me.  They took turns, alternating their fury on me and then Amy and then back to me again.   Amy was hit so hard she was unconscious.  One of them said she was dead.  I lay there, one eye swollen shut, the other barely watching their movements.  Had they decided to attempt to rape me again, I would have had to give in.  But with Amy apparently dead, they started to panic, after the adrenaline and alcohol subsided.   

“We have to kill her, too,” one of them said, gesturing towards me.  I tried to crawl, but my body would not cooperate.

They picked up Amy, each seizing one of her arms or legs, and cast her from the Cliffside like garbage.  They approached me next.  I tried to thrash, at least show some resistance, but my arm and maybe a leg were broken.

“Fucking bitch,” said the boy whose tooth I’d managed to lodge out.  “Enjoy your trip.”

I was pitched from those cliffs, and I fell, fell, fell.  Everything turned black.  I didn’t even feel the impact.  When I awoke, I was in a hospital.  The doctors told me I would recover completely.  My parents were en route.  I didn’t want to see them.  When the cops finally left after questioning me, I turned my head and simply stared out the window.  Hatred crawled into my heart.  Men were animals.  Vicious animals with singular purpose.  I thought of them ravaging Amy’s body, and I wanted to kill them.  I really did.

“What if you could?” A voice asked.  I thought it was my own voice, but it wasn’t.  I turned over in my bed and there was a woman standing there.  She didn’t look much like a doctor.  She said her name was Angel, and she had a proposition for me.  That was five  years ago.

Under her tutelage, I would go on to commit atrocities I am sure I will never fully be forgiven for.  But I do believe now that my purpose is to put an end to the evil that Angel represents by rehabilitating the others girls under her control and liberating the horde of miniature men she has taken captive.  Three weeks I ago, with a little help and a lot of luck, I escaped her clutches, but I know she’s out there somewhere. 

My name is Nicole, and I am a recovering giantess witch.