The Savage Road: Journal of the She-Hulk

To be, or not to be, green

Hey, it's Rebecca again. It's been a while since I've journaled about life as a rampaging rage monster, but I've woken up half naked in the middle of suburban somewhere after another transformation, and I need a distraction until I figure out what I need to do. Haven't had the means to write down or narrate what's been happening for a while, but thankfully this voice recorder survived in my pocket, and hopefully it's transcribing as I talk.

First it'll be the usual. Gotta find myself some clothes. Ideally, it'll be a full new wardrobe: Fresh panties, jeans that aren't ripped to shreds, a bra somewhere in my size range, and nice top. Hell, at this rate I'd settle for just a shirt; I can make these tattered pants work if I had to.

But, as it stands, I'm huddled in the back alleyway of some building, where the She-Hulk left me. It's dawn now, so I have a few hours before anybody will potentially come through. Part of me wants to be found, just for somebody to talk to. It's lonely being on the road.

That's why I'm thankful for you who're reading this, my journal. I need somebody to know what I'm going through. Otherwise I'd go insane. And when I go insane, the She-Hulk comes out.

So, now that we're chatting. Have any questions for me? Want to know what it's like to be me, to change into  a creature that loves to smash and wreck shit? Please, try me. I could use the change in conversation!

Speaking of change, god, the memories are starting to flow back. I had gone a whole week without a Hulk out, but, my cash had been pickpocketed when I was in town. I went to pay for some food, and my pockets were empty. Embarrassment turned to fear, and then, before I know it, I could feel it. Feel the change. 

I ran out, silencing the yells and the people. I knew I didn't have much time. I could feel my blouse begin to tighten, my jeans -- these jeans -- begin to constrict my legs. She was breaking free, quickly. Leaving the cafe behind, I ran down the street, my muscular legs carrying me faster and faster. As I ran, I could feel my feet burst out of my sneakers, toe by toe. The seams of my jeans began to split up my calf, the denim tearing upward across my throbbing thighs. 

My arms felt heavy, they were almost like I was swinging tree trunks as I ran. My biceps, god my biceps, just engorged and I felt like I could punch through the ground if I wanted to. That feeling of power, I'll be honest here, is the craziest part of transforming. For a second, while I'm still in control, I trick myself into believing I can control that power this time.

But I can't. Soon it overwhelms me, and my whole torso is engulfed in chaos. My large, green legs are moving is long strides now, and as I run, my core is straining. I remember looking down and seeing my blouse riding up, revealing contoured ab muscles decorating my stomach. But god, my chest was feeling so...tight.  The blouse couldn't hold up to my growing frame, so it began to tear under the pressure of my muscles, and soon the buttons began to shoot off my chest as my top just disintegrated. Underneath, this cute white bra I had found the week before, which had been the perfect size for me, was now digging into me as my breasts were growing, and they were growing fast. Ladies, if any of you are reading this, you know how uncomfortable running without a good sports bra is. Well, just imagine your boobs expanding as you ran. Nightmarish. These Shulking puppies popped that poor white bra open without any hesitation.

But I couldn't think straight enough to care. My mind was dulling, my consciousness was being taken over. That anger was now a full on rage, and as my body finished changing, so did my mind. By the end of the block, small, fleeing Rebecca Reynolds was now a muscular beast ready to stand her ground.

The She-Hulk doesn't run. She smashes. Let's just say the town has some major repair work and hospital bills ahead of it. 

I wish I could say I feel guilty. Sure, they may have it tough for a little while, but they don't have to carry this curse around like I do. They don't have to worry about waking up behind strange buildings, hoping you at least are left with some semblance of pants to cover yourself with. Every time the She-Hulk wreaks her havoc, I'm left to deal with the aftermath. 

Day's getting on now. How am I going to find clothes? How am I going to find money to eat, to sleep? Why does this keep happening to me?

Whew. Deep breath. Don't let yourself get too worked up, or you'll Hulk out again. Just like you do ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME.

Oh no. No no no. It can't be it. I just changed back! I can't become the She-Hulk again, I can't, I caaan't. 

Oh god, my bones, I feel them cracking. My skeleton, it's beginning to rearrange itself again. That power, the power I was telling you about, I feel it coursing through my veins. Feeding me, feeding her. I want it. But SHE wants it too.

 My hair, oh it's getting so long again. It's lengthened down to my shoulders, which themselves have expanded greatly. My muscles are growing, spasming as they fill with energy again. And they're not the only things growing, these damn tits are weighing me down as they keep growing. Oh, my poor jeans, I don't know if they..ungh... can take another transformation. I hear them tearing even more over my hips.

Grrrr...don't want to be the She-Hulk, I...I want to be free...I don't want to be...held back by some puny human. I want to leap and jump and there's only one thing I'll do to anybody dumb enough to stand in my way:

SMASH.