The Savage Road: Journal of the She-Hulk

Aftermath

I'm awake. 

I inhale sharply, breathing in some dirt from the ground where I lay prone. Going into a coughing fit, I force myself to use my aching muscles a bit sooner than I would've liked to, using my arms to lift myself up to where I can sit on my knees. I spit away the taste of earth and just sit there as I let my senses return to me.

Cold. My skin prickles with goosebumps as a brisk breeze blows across it. I instinctively cross my arms over my chest in a futile attempt to warm myself. My eyes open, but the glow of the sun fights them; they slowly adjust and take in the surrounding world. Foggy blurs soon turn into a crisper picture.

I now see that I'm surrounded by trees and grass. No roadways, no people. I'm alone, the way the She-Hulk likes it.

It never takes long before I have to think of the monster that lives inside me. How can I not? We're in this life together now. We share the same body. She goes where I take her and I go where she takes me. We're a two-woman show with one body between us to play tug-of-war with. 

She's had her time for now, though. She's relinquished the rope and let me pull my humanity back.

I crawl a few feet on my hands and knees and prop my aching body against one of the nearby trees, leaning my bare back against the rough bark of the trunk. I bring my knees up to my bare chest and wrap my arms around my legs, trying to preserve some warmth. The transformation has left me half naked, with only the tattered remains of the jeans I was wearing. That's usually how it plays out; if I'm lucky sometimes I'll be left with the scraps of a shirt or coat that I can cover myself with, though there are some times I've been left buck ass naked too.

That's the reality of changing from a 5-foot-8, decently built woman into a monstrous behemoth that cares nothing about modesty. Feet that would make Bigfoot jealous destroy my shoes. Her porn star sized tits KO almost any bra I wear. Muscles upon muscles flexing through inhuman green skin pretty much take care of the rest of my clothing. Add pale green eyes, thick brow, wild hair, and a massive jaw, and you've got the best picture of the She-Hulk I can conjure for you at the moment.

But now I'm just Rebecca Reynolds, clad with normal feet, average boobs, and the few muscles I've earned at the gym.

I close my eyes and breath slowly. Though I wasn't in the driver's seat, the memories of last night come flooding back as my brain readjusts to its human chemistry. The bar, the man...the rage. I remember what the She-Hulk did to that man, and let me just say that he's not going to be harassing any women any time soon. 

It's a lot for me to process, which is why I'm keeping this digital journal. Keeping record of my story...it's the only way I know how to handle what's going on in my life at the moment. Sometimes it just seems so stressful, and let me tell you: Stress isn't a good thing for me anymore. The She-Hulk loves stress. The She-Hulk loves anger. The She-Hulk loves destruction.

But as of right now, I can't help but laugh. God, I remember when the big issues I had to journal about were a boy in school not liking me. Oh young Rebecca, just you wait.

Speaking of waiting, it's now become a waiting game once again. I take a deep breath and search for the She-Hulk inside. Unlike last night, I can barely feel her presence; it's almost like she's not there. It's a rare feeling nowadays that only comes after I change back, so I soak it in. But I know the truth; the beast is there, she's just resting. Soon enough I'll feel her presence grow and grow, until the slightest provocation will unleash her to the world. Then I'll be back in the position I am now, trying to figure out my next steps.

As for now, time to take a deep breath, and begin the search for civilization.

And clothes.