Posted by dolungbridge on February 03, 2007 at 12:07:59:
JOCELIN'S CHEERLEADING DAYS - PART FOUR
TURF WAR
As one, the Meyers girls opened fire on the Hagen survivors. Erica, Sinead and Amber all stood up in their seats to get a better shot at the more distant runaways. Meanwhile, everyone in Jocelin's car bailed out to sweep down on the nearer Hagen girls still trying to crawl away. Chunks of sod flew in all directions as streams of gunfire nipped after Hagen flesh.
Sara Jane nailed a fleeing cheerleader in the back. The bullets made a neat line, dot-dot-dot-dot, up the girl's back from her pleat-skirted left buttock to her right shoulder. The girl's arms flew wide and she sprawled face-first on the turf, skirt riding up to give a brief flash of her blood-stained panties.
Sara Jane pumped a few more slugs into the dead girl's ass, making her skirt pleats dance and twist. "Shot the shit outta her!" she laughed.
A staccato burst from Jocelin's gun caught another girl in the back, spinning her around like a top. The girl's skirt flew up as she twirled, giving Jocelin a tantalizing glimpse of bullets shredding the cheer briefs around her crotch. Jocelin's heart skipped like a trip-hammer; she was getting wet, to the point of distraction. She struggled to keep the bucking gun straight, but it was difficult, so she ended up just completely hosing the chicken-shit Hagen bitch with shot. The poor girl's last breath was a thin shriek punched out of her by the lead fusillade masticating her tits. She flopped over backwards, spread-eagled, Kaepa runners sailing off her feet into the night.
Megan and Tonya caught two Hagen babes in a withering crossfire, shredding their bodices with criss-crossing lines of bullets. They emitted simultaneous atonal death-wails and fell together, clutching at the pleated hem of a third fleeing compatriot who beat frantically at them, struggling to get loose. Laughing at the comical sight, Megan and Tonya mowed all three of them down. The girls perished as one, twitching and flopping in a pile of tangled limbs.
Jessika stalked among the Hagen dead, looking for anyone who might be playing possum. Suddenly, a wounded Hagen girl leapt up at her, screeching like a banshee. She'd already taken bullets in her shoulders and thigh; great stripes of gore now painted the curves of her breasts and hips. Her face was spattered with dirt, grass and aspirated blood. Mad with pain, she flew at Jessika, nails outstretched, jaws yawning. Before the six-foot tall Meyers warrior-girl could do anything, the Hagen fiend had latched onto her, sinking its fangs into her arm and its fingernails into her neck.
"FUCK OFF AND DIE!" Jessika shrieked. She drove her silenced pistol into her assailant's gut and fired twice. Two red explosions laced with chunks of intestinal tract rent the Hagen girl's back. The girl-thing staggered back, loosening its bite. Jessika punched her in the face, again and again, driving her to her knees. Still, she tore at Jessika's sleeves and breasts with her stiletto nails, ripping long gashes in the fabric.
Jessika freaked. "You fucking bitch! Do you have any idea how much this goddamn uniform cost?!?"
TUNF! TUNF! TUNF!
Jessika kept firing at point blank range, till there was nothing left of the girl's stitched HAGEN lettering but a few bloody strands draped over cratered wreckage of her bra. The girl finally crumpled to the turf, looking like a used rag left on the floor of a slaughterhouse.
A couple of Hagen girls tried to hobble off around the side of the massacre zone. Erica and Amber spotted them.
"Hey, dead girls!" Amber called.
The girls actually looked up, sheepish. Erica shot them in the jugs.
"This isn't right! This just isn't right!" Linda fretted. "Look! That girl's surrendering!"
"Where?" Jocelin asked.
Linda pointed to a Hagen girl down on her knees, her be-ribboned hair in shambles, her make-up streaked by tears, her arms out in supplication.
Just like that Dafoe guy in "Platoon", Jo thought idly.
"Oh, her," she said, dismissive. She flicked the Uzi to full automatic and blazed away. Great tufts of turf blew up around the begging girl before she herself was unseamed from crotch to crest in a hail of lead. Her eyes widened in shock before rolling up into her skull. She toppled face-first into the grass and lay there, the slope of her back pock-marked with ragged, smoking exit wounds.
"That was so mean!" Linda protested. "You're fucked-up, Jo, you know that?"
Jocelin grabbed Linda and threw her against the side of the car. "I'M GETTING FUCKING SICK OF YOUR WHINING, LINDA! You're a cheerleader, for Christ sake! SHOW SOME SPIRIT! Now get a gun and go kill something, or you're off the squad!"
"Go to hell, you murdering whore!" Linda spat.
Infuriated, Jocelin let Linda have it with the Uzi: Six shots across the waist, just below her breasts. Like drawing a line with a pencil, she thought. Connect the dots, tee hee!
Linda's eyes sprang open, white, panicked, as the bolt of mortal pain struck. Her lips quivered; her mouth filled with blood, droplets spilling out the sides and dribbling down her chin. She looked in vain for mercy from Jocelin's implacable features, her dreams, her hopes, her ambitions all dying now with her body--
Linda was wrong about Jocelin's implacability. In fact, Jocelin was cruising on a buzz of sheer sexual overload. Watching Linda's slow expiration, her clitoris burned with an aching need. She could barely refrain from touching herself through her moistened briefs.
Linda's legs gave out and she slid down the side of the car, leaving garish red streaks on the buffed wax finish. She fell into a sitting position, clutching her streaming belly, her legs spreading open and pulling her skirt taut across her calves, leaving the yellow strip of her cheer panties just visible under the lip of tightened fabric.
"All I wanted...to do...was cheer..." she gasped finally. Her eyes glazed over, her hands fell open to her sides and she stared distantly, mouth agape, at the end-zone.
A silence fell on the field of battle. The Meyers girls stood immobile, tensed.
"You didn't have to do that," Ariel said at last.
"Ah, she was a pain in the ass!" Jocelin growled. "Besides, we can pin the whole thing on her. Lone cheerleader goes postal, takes out the side-line of the cross-town rival...It's perfect!"
"We should get the fuck outta here," Tonya said.
"Not yet!" Jocelin snapped. Her eyes glittered with feral energy. "I want to see Cherrill's body! None of us is safe 'til we know that fuckin' cunt is dead!"
"Well, they's all dead!" Tonya pointed out.
"Check the bodies!"
Jessika heaved over a few corpses with her feet. A quizzical look crossed her face. "These chicks all look like frosh."
That's when it hit Jocelin. She felt a cold stab of fear in her heart, punching through her pre-orgasmic fervency. "Oh my god. It's a trap!"
TO BE CONTINUED...