Druuna Morbus Curatus

This story is a fanwork of the Druuna comic series (created by Paolo Eleuteri Serpieri). It was Requested by @CapObviousN7 and written by Vanessa Foxe (breedorbebred).

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Druuna flung herself over the massive, sandy hill, scrabbling on all fours for purchase. The hot, arid air burned her lungs with each gasping breath she drew. Her whole body ached, but she didn't dare stop. Behind her, she could still hear the men shouting as they pursued her.

It sounded like they were gaining on her.

She threw herself forward, running down the far side of the hill, desperately trying to stay ahead of her pursuers. But with every step, the voices behind were drawing closer.

Her arms and legs burned as she ran, and she could feel herself growing slower and slower. Her mouth was so dry that her tongue felt like nothing more than a strip of old leather in her mouth, and her white tank top had long since been soaked through with sweat. Each drop of sweat that rolled down her back was a terrible loss-- the men hadn't given her any water since yesterday morning, and she could feel dehydration slowing her muscles and dulling her reflexes.

The men, on the other hand, had been eating and drinking to their hearts' content over the last day as they dragged Druuna towards their town. It wasn't fair!

They had intended to keep her for a slave, and do... God only knew what they would do to her. Their leader had boasted about how a "real beauty" like her was precious and rare, and how possessing her would elevate their status. At the first opportunity after their arrival, she'd kicked him squarely between the legs and ran away.

But she was hungry, tired, and thirsty, and she didn't know this part of the wastes like they did. The sun was hot on her exposed skin, and there was a lot of it-- her thin top didn't even cover her stomach, and all she had on her lower body was a pair of old shoes, stained white socks that came up to her mid-thigh, and a bright red thong that was riding up her rounded, generous ass as she ran. The men had taken her pants when they made her dance for them last night, and she hadn't had time to grab anything to cover herself with when she made her escape.

At least she had her shoes, Druuna thought. She had learned that in the desolate wasteland she called home, things could always be worse. And they often did get much, much worse.

Despite her desperation and the raw terror that coursed through her veins, she could feel herself flagging. Her body just couldn't keep up with her demands, and every step was slower than the last. By now she could hear the sounds of the men's heavy boots on the hard-packed dirt behind her, but she couldn't force herself to go any faster. There was nothing left to give.

"Got you, bitch," one of the men shouted from almost directly behind her. She recognized him by voice as the trio's leader-- the one who had first found her, had first lain hands on her.

Druuna cried out in terror, but the sound that came from her mouth was nothing more than a weak croak. She tried to speed up, tried to dig in deeper, but it wasn't enough.

She felt rough hands on her shoulders, then the world was suddenly spinning. She flew sideways as the man tossed her like a ragdoll, and she grunted with pain as she slammed into the ground and rolled over and over. A huge plume of dust kicked up as she skidded to a stop, and the thick particles filled her mouth when she gasped and left her coughing and choking.

"Thought you could run from me?" he shouted as he materialized through the cloud of sand and dust. "I'll fucking show you. Come here!"

"No, please!" Druuna tried to push herself backwards, to get away from the thug, but he was bigger, stronger, faster. He grabbed her by the shoulders again and violently shoved her down. He grabbed a fistful of her long, black hair and slammed her back into the bare earth hard enough to knock the air from her lungs.

"I'll fucking show you." The growl that came from his throat was almost inhuman, and the look on the man's face was a mixture of pure rage and dark lust. He knelt between Druuna's legs and pushed her thighs apart with his knees as he crushed her body under his.

Druuna shoved at him with both hands, but she was too weak to do anything but make him angrier. He squeezed her shoulder so tight that she squealed in pain. She was definitely going to have a bruise there by tomorrow morning... assuming they didn't just kill her once they'd had their way with her.

"I was gonna be nice about fucking you." The man snaked a hand between them and shoved his pants down, baring his cock in one motion. "Woulda done it on a bed and everything. Now you can take it in the dirt, like a whore."

Tears streaked through the dirt covering her soft skin to leave behind trails of mud. She knew how this was going to go, what was going to happen next. This man wouldn't be the first to take her by force. It was the most awful thing a person could endure, degrading and painful and cruel.

But she had endured it before and she would do so again. What other choice did she have, after all? She was helpless, and her only real choice was to endure or perish. That's how life was out there: the strong dominated the weak and took what they wanted, and the weak had to learn to survive.

She braced herself for the sound of tearing cloth as he tore her panties off of her, and for the sharp pain as he shoved himself forcefully into her, but neither of those things came.

Instead of the sound of tearing cloth, she heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. The sharp crack of a powerful rifle echoed in the dusty air, and one of the three men-- a bald man with tanned, leathery skin-- suddenly shuddered and fell backwards. One moment, he had been cheering his leader on and bragging about what he was going to do to Druuna when he had his turn with her, and the next moment he was suddenly missing his right eye and part of his face.

A cloud of red filled the air as a bullet went straight through his eye and out the back of his head, and her two remaining attackers both froze in place.

Then, before anyone had time to react, a cloaked figure leapt from behind sparse cover and slammed shoulder-first into the leader of the group. The weight of the man pinning Druuna down was suddenly removed as he was driven backwards by the newcomer. Before Druuna even had time to gasp, there was a flash of steel, and suddenly the would-be rapist was gasping and clutching his neck.

Blood ran down between his fingers as the masked assailant jerked their knife back out of his throat.

The third man seemed to decide that one half-naked woman wasn't worth dying over, and he turned and sprinted in the direction he'd come from. Another sharp bark of rifle fire sounded from a short distance away, and the bullet tore through the running man's back before he'd even made it six paces. He dropped in a boneless heap, the red of blood already soaking the back of his shirt.

Druuna watched in horror and disgust as the last dying man twitched in the dirt, then stilled. She had been mentally preparing herself to endure yet more horror at the hands of cruel, lecherous men, and now she was staring at three fresh corpses. It had all happened in a bare instant, before she could even process what was going on.

The sound of light footsteps behind her announced the arrival of two more strangers, both covered in layers of loose clothing and wearing thick, black masks fitted with respirators and glass lenses. Druuna craned her head to stare at them, but the masked individuals seemed to be ignoring her entirely as they efficiently went about checking the downed men for any signs of life.

The third cloaked attacker wiped his blood-slicked knife off on the cleanest part of the dead brute's clothing before tucking it away and turning towards Druuna. The other two finished the grim work of making sure that everybody they took down was going to stay down, then followed on his heels.

Druuna gasped and pushed herself backwards as the trio approached her. She tried to push herself back to her feet, but stumbled back onto the hot sand when her knees simply gave out on her. She was cornered again, and panic gripped her heart as Druuna realised she'd gone from one bad situation to another-- the group of men chasing her had planned on ravaging her, right here in the dirt, and no doubt making a slave of her, but at they had probably been planning on keeping her alive. Who knew what these others planned on doing to her?

The closest of the three, the one who had been stabbing a man to death a few moments ago, crouched in front of Druuna. She shrank backwards, but her back met the hard surface of bare rock. Trapped.

"Are you injured?" The killer's voice was softer, smoother than Druuna had expected. They didn't yell, didn't threaten, didn't make a demand of her. They simply asked that one question, then waited for her answer, as if they genuinely cared about whether Druuna was hurt or not. He was probably just gauging whether Druuna was "damaged goods", and how it would affect her selling price.

"D-Don't hurt me," Druuna begged in a trembling whisper.

"My name is Tyla." The stranger's voice was distorted through the mask and came out robotic and frightening. He reached a hand out towards Druuna, but she shrunk away from it as much as she could. "What is your name?"

"D-D-Druuna," she stammered after another moment of hesitation.

"Druuna, your attackers... Those men are dead now. They can't hurt you anymore." The masked figure paused for a moment, probably waiting for Druuna's answer. Eventually, when the scared woman didn't say anything else, they continued, "Are you hurt, Druuna?"

Druuna shook her head, her dark hair flicking back and forth with the motion. "Please don't hurt me. I can do things for you... I can make you feel good. You don't need to kill me."

The figure reached up with leather-gloved hands to pull on the front of their respirator mask. They slid the rubbery protective gear over their head and pushed their hood back, and Druuna gasped as she saw the face of the person who had just saved her from an excruciating gangrape and possibly a lifetime of degradation and abuse.

Without the dark mask, the woman-- and she was clearly a woman, now that Druuna could see her face and hear her real voice-- was much ominous. But still a threat, nonetheless.

Druuna had assumed the masked figure was a man, based on her broad physique. This woman was built like a soldier, and had easily half a foot of height on Druuna. Her eyes were a bright green, the colour of the shining glass bottles wine used to come in, back when Druuna still lived in the City. Luscious red hair was bound back in a careful braid, so that it didn't cover any of the strange woman's pale green, scaled skin.

That last feature stood out the strongest for Druuna, of course. She had met all kinds of people in her days of wandering this hellhole she called home, a lonely existence since the day she had been forced to kill her own lover years ago, but she had never seen someone quite like Tyla.

The fact that her rescuer was a woman boded well-- women had mostly proven to be less dangerous, less cruel to Druuna, than men. That's not to say they weren't capable of unimaginable cruelty and violence, especially when they were mutants like Tyla obviously was. But Tyla's face was open and honest, and her eyes looked... kind. It had been a long time since anyone had seemed kind to Druuna.

"You don't have to be afraid," the woman told her. She smiled warmly, a wide and genuine expression, and Druuna realised with a shock that she actually believed the woman. More than that, she actually felt safe around Tyla, despite the display of violence a moment before. And safety was a precious, fleeting commodity in the wastes.

Tyla unclipped a metal canteen from her belt and held it out for her. Druuna had learned not to accept drinks from strangers, not to ever drink anything if she didn't know where it came from. Like every other lesson in her life, she had learned it through pain and violence. But Tyla seemed genuinely kind... and Druuna hadn't had water in more than a day now.

She snatched the outstretched canteen and pressed it to her lips, greedily drinking with no concern for her wellbeing. At this point, Druuna would have been willing to risk being poisoned or drugged for the chance to quench her agonizing thirst. She drank heavily, guzzling the water, and Tyla didn't even try to stop her or tell her not to be greedy. She just let Druuna drink, and a moment later the canteen was empty.

"Been a while since you had clean water?" Tyla asked, and Druuna nodded emphatically.

She tipped the canteen back to get the last few drops, and even shook it in the hopes of getting just a bit more. Finally, she admitted that it was empty, and allowed Tyla to take the container from her. "Is there more?"

"Not here," the pretty mutant said with a shake of her head. "We have more back--"

"Tyla," one of the other two masked figures cut in. "We really need to be going. This detour added a lot of time to our trip, and we don't have much left."

"Yeah," Tyla sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Give me just a minute more, okay?"

The green-skinned woman pulled off one of her gloves, revealing more scaled flesh. The scales were even thicker on her hand than on her face, and Druuna couldn't help but stare at it with a mixture of fascination and concern. Mutants couldn't be trusted-- even the ones who seemed kind or intelligent. Druuna had learned that the hard way. The Sickness was a degenerative condition, and mutants always became unstable eventually. She had seen it firsthand with Shastar, had watched as day by day he lost more of his sense of self, until finally...

"Hold still," Tyla said in that gentle tone. She pulled out a small, black device with an actual digital screen. She pressed one end against Druuna's exposed bicep, and it vibrated sharply against her dust-covered skin. A moment later it beeped, and a green light flickered on the display. "She's clean."

Druuna watched intently as Tyla read whatever was on the screen before tucking the device away. What exactly had it been? What did it mean by "clean"? Druuna's curiosity had always been her biggest weakness, and indulging it had led to nothing but trouble for her. She'd even collected old books, for God's sake, even though they were heavily forbidden and the punishment for keeping them would have been severe. Despite the danger Druuna's curiosity had led her into, she couldn't help but wonder about that little machine. Maybe she could get another look at it...

Tyla's two partners looked at each other silently for a moment, then nodded. The tallest of the three turned back to Tyla and gave her a nod, and the mutant turned back to Druuna with another of those wide, warm smiles. She stood up and held out her hand for her. Against all odds, against all reason, as Druuna looked up into those emerald-green eyes, she knew she could trust the woman.

But then, what choice did Druuna really have but to trust? She wasn't strong, wasn't fast, wasn't very clever, and didn't have any weapons. Hell, she barely even knew how to use firearms, even if she'd had one-- the one time she'd held a gun, it had been through sheer luck that she'd managed to hit her target and not accidentally blow her own hand off.

Besides, there was just something about Tyla that seemed honest. She surely had some ulterior motive, everyone always seemed to, but at least she was kind.

Druuna took the other woman's hand and let Tyla help her to her feet. She marveled for a moment at the feeling of those scales against her palm. Tyla's skin was dry, but it didn't feel flaky and unhealthy like someone who was in the desert sun for too long. The scales were rough, yet smooth somehow.

Tyla pulled her hand back with a muttered, "Sorry," as if she was afraid her skin had offended the small human woman. "Come with us if you want to live, Druuna. We're running out of time, but I can explain everything on the way."

Druuna hesitated for a moment, but Tyla fixed those vibrant green eyes on hers, green across from blue. "Please, Druuna. Come with us."

"Okay." Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it was enough of an answer for Tyla.

"Are you hurt? Our transport is a little ways away... do you think you can make it?"

"I'll be fine," Druuna answered with a shake of her head. She almost always wore her long hair loose, but she regretted that decision as she felt the gritty locks rub against her back-- her hair must be an absolutely filthy mess. What a funny thing to worry about, she thought to herself as the mutant woman gave her a slow lookover. She was about to join three complete strangers in a trek through the desert: it was hardly the time to be worrying about how her hair looked.

Tyla's eyes wandered down from Druuna's dark hair to the dirty sneakers that used to be white, a hundred miles ago. A midriff-baring tank top, red thong panties, and a pair of knee-high socks didn't add up to much of an outfit, but it was all she had.

"The sun will burn you to a crisp, dressed like that," Tyla said. And before Druuna could argue, the larger woman was shrugging out of her long coat, sliding it off of her arms and holding it out towards Druuna.

She glanced at the outstretched coat, then let her eyes drift up the length of Tyla's arm and up to her shoulder. The scaly mutant was also wearing a sleeveless top, although hers wasn't nearly as flimsy as Druuna's, and in removing her coat she had revealed a pair of very well-defined biceps and toned shoulders. The skin there was green too, of course, but the scales didn't look as thick as they were on her fingers and wrists. On the upper arms, shoulders, and bits of visible chest, Tyla's scales actually looked kind of soft.

Druuna realised with a blush that she was still looking at Tyla, and hoped the mutant didn't think she was staring and being rude. She took the jacket quickly to cover her embarrassment, and draped it over her own shoulders.

"But if I have your coat, you'll just burn anyway," Druuna protested. She didn't want to burn up in the sun, but she also didn't want her rescuer to suffer for her sake.

"That's what the scales are for," Tyla said with a chuckle. She reached towards Druuna's face, and the dark-haired woman managed not to flinch as she pulled the jacket's hood up and over Druuna's hair to give her head some cover from the sun. "You ever seen a lizard with a sunburn? Didn't think so."

"We're out of time," the big man said from beside them, and Druuna and Tyla both turned in surprise at his voice. "We can bring her, but we gotta move-- now."

"Let's go, then," Tyla agreed, then gave Druuna a reassuring nod. "This way. It's a few miles, but we can still make it in time."

Druuna had hoped that "a few miles" meant just two or three, the kind of distance that you could cover in an hour of walking if the terrain was easy enough. But they walked for so long that she lost track of time entirely, easily three or more full hours of marching through hard-packed desert and the ruins of old villages. If Tyla hadn't given her that water, Druuna decided, she probably wouldn't have even made it the whole way.

The better part of fifteen kilometers later, the third member of Tyla's group changed their trajectory towards an old brick wall topped with barbed wire. They followed the length of the wall for a short time before rounding a corner and finding a gate guarded by yet another masked, robed figure.

The guard gave them a complicated hand gesture from a few hundred meters off, and Tyla gave a similar one in turn. Apparently satisfied with the nonverbal code, the guard lowered their rifle and let the group approach.