Widow's Peak (Ch. 6)

The streets were filled with the nosey and varied people of London, all of which were left gawking at Danica's frightening yet spellbounding new form. Jason's 'little woman' had certainly moved on from him and grown up into the 'big woman'. In fact, the biggest one in town. Maybe the biggest in all the world. Beside her was the much smaller Tom, loyal to her now after receiving some of her magical hair, becoming a muscular hunk of his own when compared to the regular man.

Danica beamed as she strode confidently up the center of the road towards Trafalgar Square, picking up the odd car that dared cross her path by its bumper and throwing it away without any real effort. She had no time for delays as they both made for the National Gallery.

Her long black dress flowed gracefully in the light wind, held together by a clasp around her shoulder. The other was bare and those nearby could see how incredible her muscles were. Her neck, her traps, her delts. She really did look like a god. Most impressive though, even more than her beautiful lips, eye, and face, was her long flowing hair. Each strand, of course, was the source of her biblical power. It wasn't Samson's anymore. It was Danica's. A new story was about to be written.

When they'd reached their destination, she walked up the steps three at a time before turning to face the gathering mortals below while standing between the gallery's pillars and mighty stone facade.

"People of London," she started, "I'm sure you've all heard reports in recent times of mysterious muscular women on the loose. Well, if you've seen one, just know that I am far greater than even they. I am the pinnacle. The peak. Literally and figuratively. Danica, the Strongest woman, and I-"

"Strongest woman, eh?!" a voice cried out from the back of the crowd. "Typical jumped-up bint. You look like a man! Even so, you still look pretty weak to us."

"Who dares interrupted me?" asked Danica, furious that her public reveal had been interrupted.

Below were a few local and rather misogynistic men who took umbridge at her commanding presence and her forwardness. Insecure at her size and strength, they decided to begin mocking her at a distance.

"I'll deal with them," said Tom, making his way back down the steps, but Danica tugged at his shoulder and gently pulled him back.

"No," she said coolly. "I want the rest of them to witness this."

When the men saw her descending the steps of the Gallery instead, the six of them simply laughed it off, gave her the middle finger and casually ran away. They'd had their fun after all.

Sadly for them, however, Danica was about to hers.

Behind them and above the crowd there was this sudden swishing sound, and a large figure flew through the air, and, without any trouble, crashed down in the street in front of them. The sheer impact caused them and others nearby to fall to the ground.

"Going so soon, boys?" joked Danica.

Even when they got back to their feet, Danica effortless stood over them with her fists pushed against her tight hips. She grinned then and reached out for the men, grabbing the necks of two with her right hand, and grabbed another brace with her left, picking them all off the ground together.

One pair she flung over the buildings in the direction of the lake in St. James Park, and the others she dispatched above a few blocks of buildings towards the Thames. Danica took quiet joy in watching their treacherous and spectacular journey across the London skyline towards their respective destinations, with each man crying out in disbelief at what was happening. A horrified crowd wasn't so impressed at the sight of the makeshift ragdolls spinning through the air, but what could theydo?

One of her two remaining detractors then threw a punch at her lower back when she wasn't looking.

"Huh?" said Danica. "Did one of you mortals actually try to hurt me? That's rather foolish. I mean, if you want to see a punch, I'll show you a real one."

As she slowly turned to face him, the nine foot behemoth cast her shadow upon him and all he could think to do was back off and try make for the Charing Cross tube station not far away. However, as she lifted her large fist and bulging arm, he expected to be squashed like a bug before he could even reach there. Indeed, she could've turned his entire scrawny human body to paste, but she intentionally missed, instead smashing her knuckles through the pavement. The surface crumbled beneath him and he disappeared with a yelp into the London Underground.

"Glad I could help! I hope you catch your train!" she cried mockingly down the resulting hole.

As Danica's retribution continued, the last offender commandeered one of the famed black cabs that frequented Trafalgar, put his foot down and aimed the vehicle straight at Danica. Unconcerned, she merely raised her foot and pushed it down on the front of the taxi, suddenly stopping it in its tracks. Such was the awesomeness of her strength and the abruptness of the stop, the man crashed through the windscreen and out onto the road.

Danica turned to face an even bigger crowd now.

"Never fear, folks. I can also be a merciful icon to you all," said Danica flexing her biceps.

"But what do you actually want from us?" asked someone from the crowd.

"To worship me. Admire me. This city is mine now after all."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," replied one conspicuous and audacious attendee.

As Danica swung round to set her sights upon the insolent party and teach them a lesson, too, she was instead welcomed by the double team of Sarah aka Zulima and her new partner Anne. They punched Danica at the exact same time and actually made her wobble for a moment. But only a little.

"Haha, is that the beat you've got?" she cackled. "I'm so happy you turned up, Sarah."

"Zulima's the name now," she replied.

"How strange," Danica responded, "Then again, all of this power does go to one's head. I can relate. But you're still inferior to me either way. You and your little friend."

"We might be inferior," added Anne. "But are all of us together much weaker when compared to you?"

Then, a number of other superpowered men and women jumped Danica and Tom.

"What the hell is going on?" said Danica, trying to pull herself free of her unexpected assailants.

"What's going on is that while you're greedily hoarded the hair for yourself, we shared the power with enough people in order to overcome you. And if this isn't enough, well we'll empower even more. But, eventually, I'll become as powerful as you," Zulima warned her.

"You're crazy!" said Danica, fighting off another two of their gang. She smiled then as Anne and Zulima engaged her once more, "Crazy, but a kind of brilliant crazy."

"Originally," started Zulima. "I thought Jason would still have the power, but when I saw you make an exhibition of yourself outside the gallery here, it went totally viral. I should've known you'd cut off the hair and betray him. You're a regular Delilah, aren't you?"

"I know. It's poetic justice really," she said clutching the smaller Zulima in her hands. "But I'm intrigued by this little army you've built here. I wanted the power to be something that flowed just from me, but now I realize I've already lost control of it. I won't lose this city, though, it belongs to me!"

As they traded blows and the street nearly devolved into utter chaos, there was one last voice to be heard.

"Stop!" a single man cried out up on the steps of the Gallery. Despite his deflated size and weakened state, Jason had also arrived on the scene and managed to raise the volume of his voice, just not enough to get everyone's attention. He stood there and watched in despair at the carnage that his once great search for Samson's hair had given birth to. But no matter how hard he tried, no one would take notice of him.

Enraged, something strange happened then. A change took hold. He had that feeling again. Of energy coursing through his veins. He could, inexplicably, feel the power of Samson inside him again despite hardly having a hair on his head.

However, as he grew in both size and shape, his hair itself also began to return and flow around his shoulders and back, and as the transformation began reaching its climax, he let out a tremendous roar that finally caught everyone's attention.

"The hair DOES grow back," whispered Anne to herself. "The power becomes permanent after a time. Wonderful."

Danica and Zulima also stopped fighting and watched on in awe as their former lover turned into a nine foot hulkish man again.

"Oh, Jason!" they both said to themselves aloud and in unison, before turning to look at one another in disgust.

But Jason had no interest in them anymore and instead raised his huge arms and placed his hands against two of the pillars of the Gallery building in an attempt to bring the whole facade down upon them and put an end the threat he inadvertently created. Indeed, the incredibly heavy rock and pillars crashed onto not only Jason himself but also Zulima, Danica, and the rest of the other superpowered battlers.

When the noise had finally died down and the dust had somewhat settled, all that was left was the utterly destroyed front of the National Gallery. Everyone beneath was seemingly dead.

All except Anne.

She at the start was the lone figure who pulled herself unharmed from the rubble and began searching the remains for the others. It wasn't long until she found the culprit of this great calamity: Jason. She quickly removed a set of scissors from her pocket then and began to slice it off as Danica had before.

She held it aloft then with a smile on her face. "They're all gone! I don't need to cut a deal with any of them now. I mean, who wants to rule just London, when the world is right there to be conquered? And it can be ours. A whole new world filled with endless Samsons and Delilahs, with me on top, the most biblical of them all. The mother of them all. So, now that they're gone, what should I call myself?"

As she pondered this, however, there was another shudder from deep below the broken pillars and walls and suddenly another person smashed upwards out of the rubble, quickly grabbing Anne's throat with one hand, and the hair with the other.

"How about 'Delusiona'?" said Zulima. "We had a deal remember. To take down Danica and-"

As they fought, there was a huge rumble beneath them and some godlike force lifted the very ground they stood on. Shocked, they found themselves balancing on this crumbling platform, realizing it was Danica herself lifting them off the ground.

"And you two couldn't even do that right!" she roared. "Now give me that hair! You know, I heard what your little friend said, Zulima. She said that London isn't enough. Agreed, in time I will take the world, so you're either with me or against me."

In that moment and suddenly quite terrified, they both realized just how strong Danica was, and thus reluctantly handed the hair over.

"Tom is gone. Jason, too," lamented Zulima. "The latter sacrificed himself in an attempt to stop all of this. You must feel something, especially being his widow now?"

But Danica was left unmoved and held up the thick strands of hair as Anne had done minutes before.

"He was cynical and deceiving," she said of Jason. "I fell out of love with him much as he did me. There was only the pretense of love left. A performance. Lust and jealousy. He couldn't see the bigger picture. But this widow as you call me is now free. So I am on to bigger and greater ththingsas I said, I am reaching my peak. Yes, this is Danica's world now!" she declared while running her long fingers through her magical and gorgeous windswept hair. "So let's use this biblical power and reshape the Earth in my image and be done with it."

THE END