TARZANN -Slave of Dr. Mamba-05

[mitru]

The humid air, thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming night-flowers, pressed against Tarzann’s skin as the last sliver of sun dipped below the emerald canopy. The jungle, her sanctuary, whispered secrets through rustling leaves, a language she understood better than any human tongue. She moved like a shadow, a blur of golden hair and sun-kissed skin, her small leopard-print bra and matching panty offering little concealment, yet providing all the protection she needed. Each muscle in her athletic frame coiled and released with effortless grace as she swung from vine to vine, a primal ballet performed high above the forest floor. Her eyes, sharp and clear, scanned the dense foliage, searching, always searching. The memory of the mission chamber, the cold stone against her back, the unsettling sensation of invasion, still lingered like a phantom limb. The rage, a slow-burning ember, now fueled her purpose. Dr. Mamba. The name tasted like ash in her mouth.

A faint hum, a metallic thrum beneath the earth, vibrated through the soles of her bare feet as she landed silently on a gnarled root. She crouched, listening. The sound grew, a steady pulse against the jungle’s natural rhythm, leading her deeper into a less familiar part of the forest. The trees here grew monstrous, their roots like ancient serpents, coiling and intertwining into an impenetrable wall. One colossal baobab, its trunk wider than a small house, dominated the clearing. Its roots, thick as python coils, didn’t just anchor it to the earth; they formed a labyrinthine structure, a grotesque mockery of natural architecture. Vines, thick and leathery, draped over openings, obscuring what lay within. But the hum, that unnatural vibration, emanated from its very heart.


She slipped through a narrow crevice between two roots, the rough bark scraping against her shoulder. The air inside was different, heavy with a cloying, chemical sweetness that cut through the jungle’s earthy perfume. Bioluminescent light pulsed from within, casting eerie green and blue shadows that danced like restless spirits. Machinery hummed, a low, guttural growl that resonated in her chest. The faint clink of metal against metal, the soft slosh of liquid, the rhythmic hiss of unseen mechanisms – all spoke of a place utterly alien to the wild.

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