The Killer Teen
By the Elder Barry Erctwo@aol.com
Beware Candy Barr


THE KILLER TEEN

(BEWARE CANDY BARR)

At the tender age of ten Candice 'Candy' Barr was a cute undersized
pre-pubescent wide-eyed fifth-grader who adored and admired her widowed
father. Michael 'Iron' Barr, a retired bodybuilder and pro-weightlifter
admired and adored his daughter tenfold.

Early one evening at the dinner table ten-year-old Candy surprised her 'daddy'
when she asked her massively muscled father why he was so big and so muscular
while she was so skinny and weak.

The next morning Candy was taken to the basement by her dad who gifted the
tiny four-foot-three-inch-tall, sixty-two-pound ten-year-old girl with to a
pair of five-pound dumbbells. In addition, he introduced her to a simple but
effective exercise called bicep-curls.

He promised his wide-eyed daughter that if she were to lift and curl those
tiny dumbbells repeatedly throughout the day, every day, and devoted three
separate ten-minute sessions a day to prescribed isometric exercises ... in
time she would develop hard if not showy biceps, solid muscles, and the
strength that would accompany.

Iron Barr was impressed with his daughter's resolve. She constantly curled the
five-pound-dumbbells, one in each hand, taking them with her everywhere she
went except to her school someone's. She didn't want to hear the derisive
barbs she was all but certain would be directed her way.

The next five-years passed quickly and at the conclusion of Candy's sophomore
year at Jefferson High School the now 5-5, 115-pound teenager was still
secretly 'pumping iron' five-pounds at a time. She noticed and admired her
almost imperceptible to others progress. She studied her body in her bedroom
mirror on a nightly basis. She pumped herself up and pridefully admired her
burgeoning muscles. Moreover, she was thrilled by the hardness of her biceps
whenever she caressed, flexed, and squeezed her upper arms.

As soon as the schoolyear came to an end Candy would jog the three miles to
her daddy's workplace, The Pump House, by far the most popular commercial gym
in the city. The semi-retired 'Iron Barr' had been working as a night watchman
at the gym for the last couple of years which meant that he had complete
access of the facility.

Each morning Candy would bring coffee and doughnuts to her dad and Mike
"Muscles" Piddock the owner of the Pump House. Candy would spend the last two
or three hours of her dad's shift working out using virtually every piece of
exercise equipment in the high-tech gym ... barbell sets including heavy
weights, a training bench, a low-impact treadmill, seated leg presses, squat
racks, stationary bicycles, step-benches, and ellipticals. All of which Candy
Barr used extensively on a daily basis.

Each afternoon Candy would workout at several different self defense training
classes alternately switching from one Martial Arts discipline to another:
Karate, Muay Tai, Jiu Jitsu, Krav Maga, and general badassery.

On the first day of her junior year Candice Barr looked exceptionally good and
she knew it. While not overly muscular the cute teen looked fit and sexy. She
proudly walked into the cafeteria expecting someone to notice her burgeoning
teen breasts and her lithe and sensuous physique, but no one did.

No one noticed her breasts or her tiny waist or her womanly hips or her
well-toned arms. However, that was in no way a reflection on her but rather
because everybody's attention was laser focused on a serious, for big money,
arm wrestling matches.

The appropriately named 6-6 335-pound behemoth Buck Armstrong had challenged
everyone in school to arm wrestling contests ... He put up $50 against anyone
who would risk $20. Not surprisingly he easily defeated his first opponent a
fellow football playing teammate ... Next, he put up another $50 bill
challenging anyone to compete for the entire pot which now consisted of $120
plus his next opponent's $20 ... These contests continued throughout the day;
between classes. at recess, and at lunchtime.

However, by the end of the school day challengers were neigh. So, big Buck
made them all an offer they couldn't refuse. He allowed each challenger to
stand and use two hands to his one. Several of the bigger kids, football
players, wrestlers, and track guys liking the odds stepped up only to be
unceremoniously rebuffed. The prize money had reached $1,680 and Buck was
about to pocket a profit near $500.

Little Candy Barr shocked everyone in the room when she casually dropped a $20
bill in the middle the table, placed her copy of Louisa May Alcott's Little
Women on her end of the table, placed her elbow atop the tome (to even out the
height difference) and verbally issued her challenge.

"My $20 bill and your $50 will bring the total to $1,750." Everyone remaining
in the cafeteria laughed, everyone but Candy. She smirked as if she knew
something they didn't.

"Come on, Buck." She placed her elbow atop the 759-page tome. "The implied
odds, better than 85 to one, are just too good for me to ignore." She wiggled
her forearm. "I can use the bucks, your bucks, Buck."

"Candy." Someone in the crowd shouted at her ... "You can use two hands."
Everyone laughed, everyone but Candy.

"Thanks." She shouted back to that someone in the crowd. "I only need the
one."

Buck Armstrong seethed and angrily slammed his elbow down on the table and
grasped her tiny hand intertwining their fingers. He demonstrated his
asshole-edness by squeezing her hand with all of his might.

"Ouch." She pulled her hand away from his and flexed her fingers. "Was that
really necessary?"

They grasped hands again, intertwined fingers again, but this time Candy was
the one to squeeze Buck's hand and fingers; nearly six years of isometric
hands centric exercises and a bazillion bicep curls and done the job; the
excruciating pain engendered by the ferocity of her vice like grip had
startled and frightened Big Buck Armstrong.

The crowd gasped when they saw Buck wince in apparent pain. Just then, the
referee clasped their hands together before pounding on the table signaling
that it was go time.

Buck, not wishing to be embarrassed, wanted to end the nonsense as quickly as
possible so he exerted his full power pushing against the girl's arm.
Inexplicably, there was no give at all. She held her arm upright until she
didn't, until she began to push his massive arm down and down and further
down, perilously close to the table surface.

Buck managed to summon up his strength from somewhere and began pushing her
arm back to its starting point.

"Buck, I hope you enjoyed that little moment of joy." Candy smiled. "Because
for you it's never going to be that good again." She had inexorably forced his
hand so close to the table top that the outcome was all but a foregone
conclusion. So, she allowed him to push her hand back all the way to the
starting point.

She allowed the crowd and he himself to believe that he could still prevail.
However, Candy had realized from the very outset that her years and years of
bicep curls and isometric exercises had paid off for her; she was actually
much stronger than the giant boy. Candice Barr was well beyond strong she was
hell-a-strong and she couldn't wait to finally demonstrate to the others the
results of her years of dedication and hard work.

Candy pulled Buck's hand a little closer to her before suddenly and viciously
slamming his hand down to the table's surface flipping him out of his chair
and down to the tile floor where he remained inert curled up in the fetal
position resembling shriveled up cocktail weenies.

"Thanks." Candy picked up the $1,750 bucks and rubbed the wad in Buck
Armstrong's sniveling face. She waved to the shocked but appreciative
applauding students as she exited the cafeteria and the school grounds.

Literally every student she encountered along the way offered her high-fives
and fist bumps, congratulatory pats on the back, whistles and enthusiastic
applause of appreciation. Candy Barr was walking on air, proud of her
accomplishment, and ecstatic that she had finally revealed and shown off her
unfathomable strength.

Candy Barr was as excited as a lapsed vegan with a sack full of grilled hot
dogs. She was anxious to tell her dad about the contest and present him with
the money she had won. She took the short cut through the park where she was
literally ambushed by two scofflaws; one big and one really big.

"We know about the money." The really big guy was brandishing a knife. "Hand
it over and no one gets hurt."

"Suck my dick." Of course, Candy didn't have one but she had enjoyed saying it
anyway. She placed her hands on her hips, stood motionless, and waited. "Trust
me Stretch." She moved her hands down to her sides. "Someone, or more likely
two someones, are about to get seriously hurt."

"Your call little girl." The man she had dubbed Stretch was wiry, strong, and
stood around 6-6. The 206-pound man rushed her wielding his knife. "Oh
noooooooooooo." His involuntary scream of surprise and freight was music to
her ears.

Stretch felt strong hands grip his right forearm and his arm pit, felt both
his feet losing purchase with the ground, and felt himself flying through the
air head over heels before violently crashing into one of the many American
Elm trees that populated the park. The tree absorbed the force of his
face-first contact; he was dead upon impact.

"Jiu Jitsu - 101.1." Candy put her hands together in front of her and bowed.
"I learned that throw when I was barely twelve." She callously snickered as
she turned her attention to the still living guy.

Scofflaw #2 stood motionless petrified unable to comprehend what he had just
seen nor could he assuage the fear building within him. He knew not what she
about to do to him but he knew he wasn't going to like it.

Candy approached Scofflaw #2 with alacrity. Wasting no time at all she grabbed
him around his neck with her lefthand and using the palm of her right hand
uncorked a vicious overhand missel to his face accidently smashing and pushing
his nose so far into his head he could no longer breathe through it; she had
unintentionally killed him as well.

Without a trace of remorse Candy piled their bodies atop one another below the
'killer tree' hoping that the soon to be arriving on-call homicide detectives
would be anxious and happy to clear the two murder cases from the department's
murder book.

Candy was hopeful that the investigators would report the double murders as
closed cases claiming that the evidence suggested that the two dead guys had
killed themselves. The forensic team and the Medical Examiner would likely
concur thereby lessening their own workloads.

Candy stealthily abandoned the murder scene, nervously bit her lower lip;
hoping for the best she ran directly to 'The Pump House' her father's place of
work. She was immediately concerned by the presence of the police. The entire
building had been cordoned off with yellow police crime scene tape.

"What's up? My daddy is in there." A nervous and concerned Candy Barr burst
through the tape and barreled over two surprised uniformed cops and shoved her
way passed even more cops intent on entering the Gym.

"Stop right there." A very tall very busty woman placed her hand on Candy's
shoulder, showed Candy her police badge encouraging the hyper-ventilating teen
to stop and listen. "I'm Detective Veronica Mercury ... You and I need to
talk."

Detective Mercury explained that three or four men had broken into the gym
looking for cash, steroids, and gym equipment. They brutally attacked your
father who is currently recovering from head and body injuries at Jefferson
General Hospital. He is in a medically induced coma in critical but stable
condition. Veronica offered to drive Candy to the hospital adding that her dad
should be alright.

"We'll find these guys and make them pay. I promise."

"Not if I find them first."

"Whoa." Detective Mercury recognized the resolve in Candy's vocal tone and
warned her against getting involved. "These men are dangerous. Best you stay
clear of this."

The detective ushered Candy and the nurse into her dad's room where she saw
him lying in a hospital bed with several I.V. needles attached to each of his
muscular arms. She kissed her dad on the forehead whispering a solemn promise
to him ...

"I will find each and every one of these guys and when I do they will wish the
cops had found them first."

"I'll drive you home." Detective Mercury was concerned for the girl. "But on
the way I need to look in on a crime scene. Is that okay?"

"Sure. Thanks Veronica."

"Call me Ronnie ... Everyone does."

Candy's mind was reeling ... What were the odds ... She was being taken to the
area where hours earlier she had killed two guys on accident.

"Stay here." Ronnie exited the vehicle. "I'll make it quick."

"No way." Candy had seen enough crime shows to know it was a bad idea for a
criminal to return to the scene of a crime, but this was different. The
teenaged double-murderer was being afforded an opportunity to learn the
thoughts of the investigating officers.

"Hey Ronnie. It's about time you got here." Ronnie's partner, Debra Morgan,
pointed at the two dead guys piled on top of one another. "Those two
miscreants have rap sheets longer than Shaquille O'Neal's coc ... coc ... co."
Morgan remembered the little girl standing aside her partner and let her words
trial off.

"Pee-pee?" Candy feigned embarrassment. "Detective Morgan, were you about to
say that Shaq has a big pee-pee? I once heard a comedian say that Shaq has
shattered nine MBA backboards and sixty-nine cervixes."

The lady cops laughed impressed by the cute little teen and then they got down
to the business while Detective Morgan explained the details of the murders.

"Here's what we've got." Detective Morgan was speaking to her partner but for
some reason she was looking at Candy. "A seemingly superhuman someone or some
superhuman someones annihilated the victims' bodies. First by slamming victim
number one face first against that tree pulverizing most of the body's bones.

The second victim was smashed across the face with an identified blunt
instrument that pushed the man's nose deep into the nasal passage engendering
copious amounts of bleeding causing asphyxiation and almost immediate death."

"Gross." Candy looked away pretending to be unsettled.

"Come on Candy. I'll drive you home." And drive her home she did. "May I use
your bathroom?"

"Sure." Candy led the way. "If you wish you can spend the night in the guest
bed room then you can drive me to the hospital in the morning."

The teen daughter, the lady cop, and the owner of the Pump House walked into
the Intensive Care Unit together. While that sounds like the beginning to a
bad joke it was anything but. In actuality it was a caring daughter showing
concern for her comatose father, a homicide investigator investigating an
attempted murder, and an employer showing concern for a longtime employee and
a friend.

Candy managed to get close to 'Muscles' demanding to know the name of the guy
who called in sick subjecting her dad to the beating her suffered. She had
placed her strong right hand on his thigh and squeezed so hard he immediately
gave up the name, Eddie Crespo and his address. She admonished him to not
reveal the name to the cops for at least twenty-four-hours.

Candy's muscular body was tingling with anticipation. She was wearing clear
latex gloves when she grasped the door knob in her strong right hand and
twisted hard enough to shatter the locking mechanism allowing her immediate
egress into the home of the man she was certain was one who set up her dad.

She could hear the unmistakable sounds of iron weights bouncing off the
concrete floor of the sophisticated home gym located in the basement. She
quietly descended the long flight of stairs until she was staring directly at
Eddie Crespo easily the most muscular man she had ever seen in person.

Eddie stood nearly seven-feet tall displaying at least 370-pounds of solid
fat-free muscle. He saw the little girl gaping at his shirtless body from the
doorway and slowly effected a double bicep pose for her benefit. His biceps,
thick with worm like veins, easily exceeded 23" of steroid fueled musculature.

"You like." He knew not who she was nor did he give a rat's ass. He only knew
that he was about to fuck the shit out of the little girl.

"Damn, I heard you were big and strong but I never expected this." She lowered
her eyes and backed away from the Herculean monster of a man. She had picked
up a small twenty-pound barbell feigning difficulty lifting it over hear head.
"Oomph." She emitted a sound indicating she was having a problem.

She'd come there to torture the man, garner information from him, before
administering a slow painful death ... but now she was having second thoughts.
Nonetheless, Candy was not one to back away from a challenge and this
challenge was deeply personal.

"Can I feel them?" Candy, coquettishly moved closer to Eddie indicating she
wanted to feel his biceps.

"Absolutely." Eddie Crespo learned forward making it easier for her to get a
good hold of his arm. "Knock yourself out."

"You first, asshole."

Candy launched the 20-pound barbell to the side of Eddie's head sending him
reeling backwards. She pursued him with vigor hitting time and time again
until he toppled over. She jumped on his chest with her knees and continued
pounding the man's face and body with the barbell until it was clear to her
that he was on his way to Bolivia. (Mike Tyson reference)

Even though Eddie Crespo was half way passed half way dead she wasn't ready to
kill him just yet. She needed info relative to the other two guys; she was
going to make Eddie talk then she would kill him.

"I know you were the one who set up my dad. Oh, you don't know who I am." She
broke his index finger pushing it back towards his wrist much further than it
was designed to go. "I want the names and addresses of your partners." Candice
Barr chuckled emitting an evil and frightening fiendish cackle. "You know you
have nine more fingers." She snapped his middle finger breaking it in two
places. "Including the thumbs eight and counting."

"Okay, okay." He gave up the names and address; apparently, his partners were
brothers who lived together.

"Thanks, Eddie." Candy leaned herself backwards, lifted the twenty-pound
weight high over her head, and preceded to smash the face and head of Fast
Eddie Crespo all the way to Bolivia. Candy searched the house and found $4,500
in cash and a plastic bag containing a shit load of anabolic steroid capsules.

Later that day, much later that day Detectives Ronnie Mercury and Debra Morgan
arrived at the home of Eddie Crespo, a name they had pried away from Mike
Piddock the proprietor of the Pump House.

The door was open, the knob disengaged. They entered with guns drawn
eventually making their way down the stairs to the open door of the exercise
room where they found Eddie Crespo or at least what was left of him.

"I guess his partners weren't into sharing." With her extended foot Detective
Morgan turned him over so he was facing up.

"I'm not sure of that." Ronnie was immediately suspicious. "This looks
personal to me. Maybe payback for some perceived offense, a vendetta of
sorts." She knelt down beside Eddie to assess the damage that had been
inflicted. "Torturing a guy or even killing a guy is one thing but this, well
this is beyond the pale."

"Maybe the guys who did a number on Eddie found the cash and the drugs."
Ronnie was musing out loud. The lady cops had thoroughly searched the place
looking for money or drugs but came up empty.

"I found his cell. Debra was elated. "It's not password protected." "Let's say
we visit a couple of his friends."

Candy approached the door to the quaint one-story building that was the home
of the Reynolds brothers, Allie and Harold. She twisted the door knob just as
she had at the home of the now deader than just dead Eddie Crespo with the
exact same result.

She quietly entered hearing sounds of laughter coming from a room at the end
of hall. When Candy entered she encountered the Reynolds brothers playing
pool. The brothers were both huge. Not as huge as Eddie but huge nonetheless.
Each stood well over six-feet tall with veiny steroid fed biceps approaching
twenty-inches.

The tiny teenager grabbed the black eight ball in her right hand squeezing so
hard the phenolic resin disintegrated in her hand allowing the shards and dust
to slip through her fingers.

"What the fuck." As incredulous as he was with the little girls display of
strength Mark Reynolds wanted answers. "Who the hell are you? How the fuck did
you do that?"

"Yeah." Apparently, Allie Reynolds wasn't much for words.

And at that moment neither was Candy. Given the brothers' respective sizes
Candy realized she needed to take the initiative. She moved quickly leaping
into the air delivering a near lethal karate kick to Allie's throat dropping
him like a sack of potatoes. Not allowing Mark a second to react to her
onslaught Candy, using the calloused palm of her right hand, smashed his face
dropping him to the ground alongside his gasping for air brother where they
lay motionless weeping like babies.

"Hi guys." Candy mercilessly kicked each of them in the kidneys rejoicing in
the sounds of more whining and weeping. "My name is Candice Barr and I'm the
daughter of Mike Barr." She kicked them both again.

"Where's the money?"

"Over there." Allie Reynolds that man of few words pointed at a cabinet in the
far corner of the room. Candy moved furtively to the cabinet and retrieved a
canvass bag containing at a minimum $40,000 and hundreds and hundreds of
steroid capsules.

"You guys really hurt my dad." She chortled menacingly. "So, now it's my turn
to really hurt you a lot, a whole lot." She chortled some more again. She
grabbed a pool cue by its end, raised it perpendicular to the floor, and
buried the pointy end deep into Mark Reynolds upper torso penetrating his
chest cavity as well as the entirety of his body. She pushed until she felt
the end of the pool cue hit the surface of the floor.

Displaying near super human strength Candy continued to drive the pool cue
into the man until she lifted him high into the air looking much like a
skewered gigantic piece of meat ready for the barbeque. She jammed the pool
cue deep enough into the wall to support Mark's weight where he would remain
suspended ...

"Oh, Jesus." Candy laughed some more again. "That had to hurt."

"Oh God." Apparently, Allie wasn't above begging. "Please, let me be."

"Let you be what?"

"Stop hurting me. Let me live. Please."

"What fun would that be?" Candice took each side of his face in her strong
hands and began to squeeze with all of her might. As she did so she gleefully
watched the man's facial features morph into something unrecognizable,
something grotesque. And then it happened his head exploded like a watermelon
at a Gallagher comedy concert.

Just as she had at the Crespo pad Candy did her due diligence and cleaned up
everything with which she may have come in contact. She scrubbed the floors
and every surface using Clorox, bleach, and all manner of disinfectants. She
drove Eddie's car to a secluded location, dumped all of the steroid capsules
down a sewer drain. And for her piece de resistance she doused the car with
gasoline, fashioned and lit a fuse, and watched from a distance as the car
exploded and burned destroying any DNA that may have survived.

While standing on the steps of the Reynolds brothers' home Detectives Mercury
and Morgan heard an explosion in the distance. They turned in time to see
plumes of flame rising into the air each wondering if there might be a
connection their case. When they saw the destroyed door knob, they entered
with trepidation fully expecting to find what they ultimately found; two badly
beaten, very bloody, very dead Reynolds brothers.

"When you call Forensics insist they send your brother." Ronnie verbally
jabbed Detective Morgan. "This bloody crime scene is a blood splatter
analyst's wet dream.; Poindexter will love it ... if he doesn't pass out
again."

Three days later Ronnie visited Candy and her convalescing Dad who had been
released from the hospital the afternoon before.

"Hi kid ... Mr. Barr." Ronnie Mercury smiled warmly. "it's nice to see you at
home sir. You look well."

"Thanks." Mike smiled. "Some celebrity once claimed that it's better to look
good then to actually feel good." He smiled some more again. "I'm not sure he
was right."

"Relax for a bit." The detective motioned for Candy to join her in another
room. "We need to talk."

"In the course of our investigation it has been determined that the killings
in the park were perpetrated by the same people who murdered Eddie Crespo and
the Reynolds brothers." Ronnie studied Candy's expressionless face. "The
similarities are unmistakable."

"Huh." Candy remained stoic. "What does that tell us?"

"It tells that the five murders are connected." Ronnie continued to study the
expressionless face of Candice Barr. "The forensic geeks are telling us that
the murderer has near super human strength and martial arts training."

"Do you know anyone like that?" Ronnie waited for an answer.

"Well, I have martial arts training." Candy readily admitted. "But I know no
one with super human strength."

"Really - no one?" Ronnie spoke forcibly. "I've spoken with people at your
school; teachers and students alike. "I know all about your decisive nearly
incomprehensible arm-wrestling victory over a near 350-pound football player.
Everyone who witnessed the contest described you as having super human
strength.

"Would that were true." Candy explained in great detail that she was a
practitioner of Kyushu Jitsu the Middle Eastern Technique of pressure point
fighting. I manipulated his exposed vulnerable nerves applying enough pressure
to cause him excruciating levels of pain sufficient enough to render him
nearly helpless to fight back.

"Detective, I used skill not super human strength." She laughed a deep
throated guttural laugh of incredulity. "Surely, you didn't suspect me, don't
suspect me."

"You and I both know that if you were to level such an allegation you would be
laughed off the force. Right?"

"Right." Veronica Mercury nodded and smiled. "Nonetheless, I will be watching
you."

The Killer Teen ... by the Elder Barry ... 4,500 words