Tales from Silicon City

Mentalrix in "Yummy Yummy"

By Psion

A Silicon City story

All Rights Reserved

The light of the full moon cast long shadows as the masked figure discreetly prowled the streets of suburbia. A rabbit anthro, her face and general features obscured by an old military gasmask, a baggy black trenchcoat, and a black fendora, regarded her surroundings with an expressionless gaze as she searched for clues that only she could see.

Surrounded by modest homes and neatly manicured lawns, the telepathic heroine Mentalrix may have felt out of place if she were actually at home in the grimy abandoned surroundings comic book villains favored to begin with. But the lapine vigilante's investigations took her to settings like this all too often. True evil, the kind that would never be published in the comic books, didn't hide in underground fortresses or abandoned warehouses. True evil got dressed every morning and hide among the unsuspecting masses, concealing itself in churches, supermarkets, and neighborhoods like this one...

This investigation started like most over the previous year after she developed that system of dead drops and out of the way meeting places, a middle-aged lupine couple approached her and begged the shrouded avenger to find their missing teenage daughter Karen. Too poor to hire a private investigator and nowhere nearly politically connected enough to push their case through the overworked and understaffed police department, they took a chance and decided to trust their child's fate to the talents of a masked vigilante. Good, honest people that just were the victims of misfortunate and malicious intent. Mentalrix didn't like disappointing people like them, they reminded her too much of her own parents when her sister was kidnapped. So with a heavy heart, she promised to see what she could do and started prowling the missing girl's last known location. First in the daylight hours as her unmasked persona; Brittany Buckwheat, self-employed accountant and income tax specialist sticking pamphlets into neighborhood mailboxes. Once the sun had set and she had a proper location, she returned as Mentalrix, psychic avenger and the last hero of St. Louis...

While the physical trail had gone cold, the telepathic one had not. The parents were more then happy to provide an artifact of their daughter, a stuffed toy she had since childhood and still slept with from time to time, and the rabbit used the psychic echoes lingering on the object to get a mental profile of the missing girl. When combined with the location of her last known whereabouts, the "scent" of the teenager's memories lead the psychic rabbit to one particular house in a fairly peaceful, nondescript neighborhood. Here, the trail became... congested. The young wolfess joined the lingering mental images of other visitors to the house. Male, female, about the only things most of them had in common were that they were all in their early to mid twenties and they were all "grand predator" anthros like wolves, bears, and tigers. Mentalrix felt her pulse quicken as she checked for the familiar weight of her escrima fighting sticks hidden inside her trenchcoat as well as the small dagger kept concealed in her boot. While the lingering impressions were too numerous and too overlapped to determine how many people left the house versus how many entered... a lot of random visitors to one place was never a good sign in the rabbit's experience.

The house's owner was a female Dachshund in her late twenties to early thirties named Lorie Farmer, appearance typical of her species and otherwise unremarkable were it not for her immense weight. Big-bellied and almost spherical due to her short height... at five-foot-six not counting her ears, Brittany wasn't exactly an impossibly tall Amazonian superheroine but even she towered over the jello mold canine that barely came up to her waist. She was home when Buckwheat was doing her unmasked afternoon prowling and the two idly chatted for a bit about the weather and local events for a moment while the rabbit accountant handed her a brochure for her tax business, the canine certainly seemed normal and friendly enough. Further conversations with her neighbors implied that the Daschund lived alone and appeared to work from home, none of them could remember her ever leaving her house except to go on errands. Unfortunately, none of the neighbors could remember anything specific about her visitors either. Not exactly a lot for Mentalrix to go on later...

Back in the present, Mentalrix sucked in her breath and quietly crept into the backyard. It was late, long past when most of the neighborhood would have gone to bed for the evening, but who knew if there was anyone trying to catch a late-night soap opera or just had a bad case of insomnia. Truthfully, in hindsight the masked rabbit was more concerned with what she was about to do then whether or not anyone was watching the shadows creeping across the Daschund's back patio and hover over the bulkhead into her basement. Going over the information she had so far in the back of her head, the mentalist was of two minds as she produced a collapsible set of lock picks out of her coat pocket and began fiddling with the padlock keeping the bulkhead sealed shut. On one hand it was possible the fat canine was a dead end and the rabbit was going to owe someone a very lengthy apology for some illegal and entirely unnecessary B&E. On the other, both instinct and what evidence she did manage to gather said that something was very wrong about Farmer and her home. In any case, she'd know the truth soon, the commercial-grade lock didn't hold up to her efforts for long...

Carefully opening the bulkhead doors and closing them behind her, the telepathic heroine carefully snuck into the unfurnished basement. It was dark; the light of a sub-level window was barely adequate to avoid stumbling around like an idiot looking for the light switch. Letting a shallow breath escape her lips, she did her best to relax and let her telepathic powers enhance her sharpening nightvision... Something was wrong. Karen's mental energies shone like a beacon directly in front of her as the young wolfess put herself through an emotional roller coaster of fear. But there was also a strong residual presence of Farmer's other visitors. The mentalist's hand found a light switch and in the span of a heartbeat wished she hadn't.

Residual presences usually were felt when there was an object with an extremely strong connection to an individual present... or when their physical remains were in the room like they were here. The harsh incandescent light revealed several elaborate arrangements of acid-bleached bones. Bears, wolves, tigers, lions... skeletons of over a dozen different "grand predators" were neatly arranged and carefully attached together with an impressive collection of bits and bobs acquired at the local hardware store. A dozen beautifully assembled specimens perfect for a high-school anatomy class... each one imbued with the faint stench of fecal matter and the psychic ghost of someone that died writhing in agony. In an instant Mentalrix knew what she had stumbled upon, yet the anatomical impossibilities... who was she kidding? The rabbit chided herself briskly as she quickly recounted her previous villains. Two biokinetic flesh shapers, one of them her archnemesis, a serial killer that could hide in paintings or videos... a vorephile that could successfully take down beings twice her height and swallow them whole was hardly the most absurd villain she faced.

The rabbit's ears twitched as she heard the sound of small, heavy footfalls slowly creep their way down to the basement. Farmer's voice gently wafted down the stairs as she sang a personal ditty of hers and audibly sharpened a cleaver along the way down. "Mama's little baby loves sweet little, sweet little. Mama's little baby loves sweet little breads."

The lights went back off in an instant and using her mental image of the room's layout, the psychic avenger hid behind the door. Hand reaching for the handle of her fighting stick, she held her breath as the door opened and the light went back on... and was barely able to dodge the cleaver swing aimed at her midsection.

The dachshund looked at her with a knowing glint in her bright blue eyes and a hungry grin on her lips, spherical body clad in a stretchy black bodysuit and a well-worn white apron, her short messy black hair managing to look particularly untamed in the harsh light. "I knew it, I knew I smelled someone sneaking around my basement." She explained hastily, tapping her little button nose with her free hand as she quickly readied another swing.

But Mentalrix was ready for this one, dodging the weapon and counterattacking as her opponent fought to remove her cleaver from the wall. Escrima stick smacked against the canine's head with a sickening crack as "Trixie" scored a telling blow and pushed herself away. The vigilante instinctively considered her options; being attacked by a fat little canine bitch with a "meat hatchet" was only funny until it was actually happening. And unfortunately the short blubber ball proved to be much quicker on her feet then the rabbit initially expected.

The boot knife was quickly drawn and out in her free hand, a necessary addition to the fight to keep her opponent from severing her limbs. Meanwhile Lorie continued to press onward with a flurry of furious blows, pushing the masked intruder into a corner. And not all of her strikes were countered in time, the rabbit's arms stung from shallow cuts as the weapon dripped red with her blood. In desperation the rabbit kicked in an attempt to push the canine away and give herself some more space, a futile effort as the cannibal's well-padded midsection deadened the blow to a mere tickle.

Unfortunately, Trix would receive her reprieve yet not in the way she planned. As the fight wore on, an audibly savage roar emitted from deep within the shorter female's considerable midsection. Growling, the spherical female aimed high and punched the heroine squarely above the crotch, sending electric jolts of pain through the rabbit's uterus. The masked avenger had fought through a lot of painful experiences but sadly the canine was her first opponent to have a proper understanding of female anatomy and fought dirty enough to try and use it.

Dropping to her knees in pain, she watched helplessly as the canine turned and waddled back over to her prisoner. Karen flinched and squirmed, struggling with her binds now that it appeared that her savior was down for the count. Mentalrix watched as this exchange suddenly took a turn for the bizarre. One second the diminutive canine had a normal-looking mouth, the next there was a bony clicking noise and suddenly her jaw seemed to stretch over the wolf's head. Like an exotic jungle snake on the science channel, the stout canine slowly gobbled up her fidgeting prey. About halfway done with her dinner, the dachshund cut the lupine's binds... just in time to swallow her with one big gulp.

Bloated, her ball-shaped body visibly stretching to contain the fighting canine inside, the lunatic villain turned back to face Trix, canine face frozen in an expression of pure ecstasy as she patted her squirming belly. Her eyes greedily appraised the heroine, clearly considering her for a second course. The rabbit likewise calmly studied her foe; the urge to scream in horror was the first casualty of taking on the mantel of Mentalrix... Yes she could swallow something bigger then herself but the act clearly hindered her, Karen was on the small side of things for a wolf and she still managed to make the canine's belly touch against the floor. The larger predators must have immobilized this madwoman completely... the rabbit could still "win" but she had to hurry, the dachshund's prey couldn't have much air left.

The weapons were sheathed in convenient pockets in her coat and, steeling herself, the psychic avenger lunged with two empty hands. Grabbing both sides of her engorged opponent's head, Mentalrix focused on bridging her mind to her opponent's. The feeling of having a squirming belly full of living prey hit the rabbit like an orgasm, the canine enraptured by her exotic diet and immense girth. The psychopath's fetish slowly tried to corrupt the rabbit's world view, enthralling her the way the dachshund was; Trix hit back with images of nausea; spoiled milk, moldy rolls that looked like small heads of lettuce at a glance, a punch to the gut, that one time in college she ate a sushi roll on a dare made by her carnivore friends and it turned her herbivore stomach inside out. The message she was trying to convey in this psychic game of pictionary was clear, casting a bright shade of green underneath the chocolate brown fur on the cannibal's face.

What happened next was a whirlwind. Her mental resistance cracked, Farmer's gag reflex activated and the canine promptly vomited up Karen... as well as the bony remains of victim number thirteen. Her coat and boots speckled with puke, Mentalrix didn't hesitate with what needed to happen next. Running on pure adrenaline, the rabbit picked up the female wolf with an amount of strength she did not normally possess and ran for the welcoming safety of the cool, black night. Later, safely hidden out of sight for the moment, she pulled out a scrambled cellphone she kept for situations like these and dialed 911. She didn't have that much more pull with the city police department then Karen's parents, but... well it was time to put the registration debate to work for the people of this city.

"911, what's your emergency?" The operator replied with that Zen-like calm they were all trained with.

"This is the vigilante Mentalrix, I'm currently at 12 Sunbury Avenue in the suburbs outside of the city. I have a cannibal on my tail and Karen Winchester, a sixteen-year-old lupine that almost became her latest victim, at my side. I need an ambulance at my location, Karen's suffering from asphyxiation and acid burns." The rabbit replied, raising her mask slightly to better speak into the phone. Turning to check on the female, she pressed her fingers against the other female's neck. "There's no pulse, seems to have gone into shock. I'm going to try and revive her, how soon can I expect that ambulance?"

"St. Anthony's Medical Center has sent an ambulance to your location, they should be there in six minutes." The operator replied as Mentalrix laid the unconscious wolf flat against the hard pavement. "Do you know how to perform CPR?" The calm female asked after getting no further response for a second.

Four minutes until She shows up then, I can work with that. The rabbit thought to herself before she replied back. "Yes, I'm attempting that now. If that doesn't work, I have a couple other options." She grunted as she began to go through the motions. One hand pressed against the teenager's breastbone, the other hand on top of the first. Push down in nice, even motions while counting to thirty, two breaths, pause to check and... well Karen was breathing and a few seconds later she could feel the spark of normal neurological activity resume inside the wolf's head... and was hit by Karen's sudden recollection of her last few minutes before losing consciousness. Choking on foul air, being squeezed inside a dark, fleshy bag, the burn of acid. The explosion of traumatic memories nearly knocked Mentalrix unconscious...

Rivetgal arrived four minutes after her car's onboard computer picked up Mentalrix's 911 call. Mentalrix calling for help, it would have stank of a set-up were the voice not unmistakable. Maybe this time the armored canine would be able to bring her in and... and the masked rabbit managed to slip away the instant she spotted the heavily armed registered tech-heroines approach her hiding space. Leaving Rivetgal alone with a terrified teenager hugging her leg and jabbering about some kind of mutant cannibal. Rolling her eyes, the blond golden Labrador retriever gazed out into the concealing darkness. "Well played Mentalrix, well played indeed..."

The next morning...

Sunlight streamed through her bedroom windows as Brittany Buckwheat tried and failed to get a few fitful hours of sleep before resuming her daily life as a boring old accountant. Opening her eyes, she turned to her side and found Lorie Farmer looking right back at her from the foot of her bed, the dachshund growling savagely before opening her mouth wide and drowning Brittany's face in the stench of half-digested meat....

Sunlight streamed through her bedroom windows as Brittany Buckwheat tried and failed to get a few fitful hours of sleep before resuming her daily life as a boring old tax accountant. This time, she woke up for real, the sun's early morning rays casting a bright light on her apartment bedroom in downtown St. Louis. Crawling out of bed, the battered rabbit pushed her messy hair back and shuffled across the soft red carpet as she staggered into her bathroom. Light in the bedroom, light in the bathroom, light in the living room, and still not enough light to banish the lingering shadows from the night before, there was never enough light....

FBI BAU Metabeing Profile Report #5961: "Mentalrix"

The UnSub is a lapine female in her early to mid-twenties. She is athletic and highly disciplined, likely due to a physically active lifestyle as well as her exploits as a masked vigilante. Costume attire suggests a pragmatic, sexually conservative outlook on life. Dialog is typical of a college-educated individual, possibly a white-collar worker either self-employed or used to long periods of unemployment. Equipment is consistent with someone of average means and resources.

_ The UnSub is to be considered extremely dangerous. She is an exceptionally physically fit mentalist with considerable telepathic and martial arts experience. She also has several years of experience dealing with St. Louis's worst, roughly equivalent to multiple consecutive stints with the St. Louis PD's Special Victims Unit. Subsequently she would appear jaded, disillusioned, difficult to intimidate, and is possibly suffering from some manner of mental illness. PTSD is a possibility, as are any compulsions she picked up from telepathically interacting with her foes. A combination of the two is most likely._

_ At present, Department of Superhero Affairs agents and other relevant law enforcement agencies are advised to observe and avoid directly confronting the UnSub unless absolutely necessary. Known exploits paint a picture of a fairly well-restrained individual yet one that possess a fairly unstable temper when confronted with perpetuators of sexual violence, the latter trait seems consistent with victims of sexual predators or relatives of victims. Subject also maintains a binary "you're either with me or against me" mentality also seen in some relatives of victims. Unless necessary to protect an important witness or similar, attempting to discourage her from investigating a known sexual predator is not recommended due to the potential danger to law enforcement personnel._