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Description
    Lebensrautia. Just another irken occupied planet in a universe filled with irken occupied planets.
    This planet was made specifically to house and cater for the irken empire’s clearly uncountable number of irkens. The planet itself was like one huge living city, a constant mass of wires and smoke and metal covered everything. Pyramid-esque skyscrapers shot up into the eternally dirty brown clouds and hover-lights were dotted in the air, weaving in and out of the tall hive-like structures caving out pathways for the planets never-ending supply of transporters and cruisers. Fire belched from the sides of intertwining factories and industry buildings, huge places that ate up the land and dwarfed most of the other structures. The sounds of billions of machines all working; building whatever it was they built, billions of lives all labouring and eating and talking were soundtracked by the noise of the constantly humming space-craft and voots.
    The effect made the planet appear to be hosted by a race of machine-insects living on the last dregs of whatever almost depleted supplies the planet had left to offer. Their constant unresting work was all their lives seemed to be. This drudgery of the same old dull colours and dirty surroundings, the same bitter taste of pollution in the air and the horrible smell of industry that one eventually got used to after living there for a while, but never quite forgot.
    The streets of this hive-planet where packed with billions of irkens, several hundred million vortians and the rest a marvellous gallery of creatures and species from all over the galaxy, nay, the universe, all living and breathing and walking and working and eating and sleeping together, days after days, weeks after weeks, months after months, years after years.
    There wasn’t much out of the ordinary on Lebensrautia, after all, it was only one of a million other industry hive planets. Nobody was really special here; everyone was equal in their mundane lives.
    One thing everybody shared on Lebensrautia was that no one ever escaped. No one moved away to a better life, not unless you where one of the top elite caste on the planet.
    Every lower caste irken and alien alike dreamed of moving to the places they saw in holiday adverts and rotting posters. To the places they saw on their TV’s and in the movies they watched.
    But they couldn’t, they made too little money and most could barely afford to live in the compact, tiny square flats that where built en-mess to house the working population.
    Everybody here wanted to get out, to get away and to go somewhere cleaner and nicer with less people and better air.
    Even the insane wanted to get out.
    Deep in sector 77GG43, packed in a long row of shops, lay a run down looking chemists with a faded sign above the door reading ‘Mignor’s Chemist’. The window showed several old posters for different pills and medicines, but they where obscured buy the metal grating covering the glass.
    Crime on this planet, especially at this level, was rife. To many, it was a constant pain of having the few things that they owned taken from them with little support from the police, who where far too underpaid and ill equipped to solve any crimes.
    To some however, this simply meant it was easier to get away with things.
    Sitting, leaning away from the front desk of her workstation of the chemist shop, was a slim and rather pretty looking irken female.
    She was of an average irken height but possibly an inch or two higher. Her body was slim in build and quite feminine looking with a nicely shaped chest but her body shape was mostly hidden by her uniform, which was a pair of long, shape disguising dull blue pants and a dull blue slightly oversized t-shirt with the chemist name on the left breast as well as her white nametag. However, she wore a more fitting long sleeved black top under it, which covered her arms up to her wrists. Her eyes were of a rose-red, healthy and almost seductive when combined with her slim, very attractive looking face with naturally thin, long eyelashes and long, straight antennae which ended in a sharp curl. She was wearing no makeup or any jewellery, which made her look rather plain but didn’t take away her good looks.
    She was currently watching a Klakson music video on a small, propped TV that was placed on the corner of the large but completely transparent energy shield that protected her from any angry customer. The only hole in this shield was a small rectangle box connecting to the workstation itself, through which she could give out the backroom medicines and prescriptions.
    It was a horrible irony, as in the hyper-technical age of the irken empire, one could pay for nanomachines to be injected into ones body to cure any possible disease they may have but that operation was highly expensive and so the corporations quickly managed to develop smaller temporary cures, usually in a pill form.
    The result? People continued to catch illnesses that where already cured but still had to pay for the less effective treatment though chemists and GP’s. The frighteningly large rich-poor gap in the economy only continued to force the poorest to stay poor while the rich got richer.
    But at least it still gave the poorer citizens a change to get better, they still had the basics… but that was it.
    The door of the shop opened and the females gave lazily turned towards the door as a far older female irken, hunched over even, slowly made their way into the shop.
    The employee grinned as her eyes showed she recognised the older irken and she stood up only to lean onto the counter and look down at the hunched irken.
    “Good morning Miss Lorac,” She greeted loudly as the older irken hobbled up to the workstation.
    “What?!” Miss Lorac pulled one of her antennae forward and squinted her grey hued green eyes the chemist.
    The employee leaned further forward, but avoided touching the energy shield. “I said GOOD MORNING Miss Lorac!”
    Miss Lorac smiled and her eyes brightened slightly. “Oh! Good morning Sirra deary!”
    Sirra chuckled, the old irken came in here at least once a week asking for something or other, yet what she really needed was some antennae hearing aids, the old irken was a deaf as a post and almost blind.
    Sirra enjoyed using this to her advantage. “And how’s your rotten decaying ugly self today?”
    Miss Lorac smiled oblivious, “I’m fine deary! Yourself?”
    “Oh you know,” Sirra smiled sweetly and one could see the sharpened fangs of her teeth, flashing like a bloodthirsty vixen, “I killed a small smoompty on the way to work today and managed to finish washing the blood out of my favourite top, so I think I’ll brutally rape and slaughter someone tonight.”
    If anyone else was in there, they probably would have run a mile. It was easy to tell by her eyes and smile that she wasn’t kidding, not to mention it was currently the talk of Lebensrautia of the mysterious psycho-rapist killer who seemed to slaughtering males who visited nightclubs or tried to pick up prostitutes.
    However, what got everyone was that this wasn’t someone raping and killing females, but a female raping and killing males. Not that it was unheard of, it was just a rarity.
    Once more, this killer had somehow managed to make every irken male so far actually attack her, as shown from the strips of torn clothing and non-victim DNA taken from the crime scenes.
    This would have usually lead to an imitate find and arrest, but the killer was again one step ahead of them. They seemed to have sprayed the area with a huge mix of chemicals which pretty much destroyed any chance of tracking them through clothing or DNA.
    They where on a rampage, raping and killing whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted to, and the police where completely useless in even trying to catch them.
    Sirra smiled as she thought about how the Tallest-Chief-Police was currently the laughing stock and the object of hate on Lebensrautia right now, all because he and his police force where too stupid to find her.
    “…and then he told me I might have something wrong with my back, and so I need painkillers if you have any.” Miss Lorac finally finished.
    Sirra had zoned out for most of it, but she caught ‘painkillers’, and she nodded. “Alright then you sad old pile of fugly, I’ll go get something, maybe cyanide, ok?”
    “I’ll wait here for you deary!” Miss Lorac smiled.
    Sirra smiled back thinking what a completely stupid fool the old female was. As she turned and walked into the backroom, she wondered why she didn’t just kill her off. No one would care or notice, all it’d take would be to slip some poisons into her order and she’d be rid of the old thing in no time.
    But as Sirra collected the proper pills, she chuckled. It’d be losing out on too much fun at Miss Lorac’s expense if she did; she enjoyed thinking the only one who knew she was a completely twisted psycho rapist was half-blind deaf old irken.
    “Sirra?” Her head turned to see a fatter, shorter male irken with purple eyes come out of the boss’s office. He was wearing the same uniform as Sirra but without the long sleeved top. He looked tired, worn out, and he swayed. His eyes seemed out of focus and his mouth was open slightly. When he spoke, his words seemed slurred. “Sirra… I-I-I don’t feelssstoo good.”
    Sirra smiled, suppressing a scowl. She hated her boss more than anyone but she couldn’t kill him or she’d lose her job and she needed her job to order the chemicals she needed to get away with her night time fun. So, she just drugged him into confusion and silence, it was easier that way.
    “Look, Mignor,” she reached into her pocket, taking out a small plastic bottle filled with little blue and white coloured pills, “You just need to take more medicine. You’re ill.”
    “I’ms not ill…” He managed to mumble, swaying on the spot, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, “You’re m-m-making me ill.”
    Sirra froze as she heard the truth. However, her smile turned in a deadly growl and she quickly advanced on him. “Well in that case, here,” she grabbed him by the front of the shirt. He tried to push her away, but he was too dazed and weak to effectively fight back.
    She smirked at him, “Have a nice nap.” And her fist connected with the space between Mignors eye’s, instantly knocking him unconscious to the floor.
    Sirra may have been slim and pretty, but it didn’t mean she was weak. She knew she could have easily pushed herself to be a solider, maybe even an invader, but she had no interest in all of that. Too much work and not enough play in her opinion. She was far more deadly than most people thought on first glance and she liked to keep it that way.
    The sudden urge to tear him apart almost overwhelmed Sirra, but she managed to hold back, she could always kill him in a moment.
    She still needed to get rid of that stupid old moron out front.
    Going back to Miss Lorac’s medicine, to which she filled with whatever was at hand, Sirra took the small bottle and walked back to the front of the shop.
    She shoved the probably deadly combination of pills through the little opening and waited for the old irken to count her monies out.
    She finally took the bottle and looked up to Sirra, her eyes sparkling. “That you sweetie, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
    “Probably keel over and die, doing us all a big favour,” Sirra grinned back.
    The impossibly naive old woman turned and walked out the door, calling back, “Good bye Sirra! Take care!”
    “Good bye Miss Lorac!” Sirra cheerfully called as the door shut, “Die soon ok?”
    She sighed the moment the doors closed and she immediately tapped a security button under the work desk, locking the door shut.
    It was time to deal with the boss…
    She turned and walked into the backroom again, where her boss was slowly groaning as he came back around. Sirra quickly marched into the small kitchen-esk area, where one could make themselves a sandwich and a drink, and took out a large bread-cutting knife. She then marched back to stand over to her boss, whose eyes where flickering open, and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and glared viciously down on him, holding the knife clearly in her hand.
    “Now listen here you WORTHLESS piece of shit!” She growled out, “You’re not going to say a word about ANYTHING I do here, or…” and she drew the knife to the shorter irkens throat, “I’ll fucking kill you.”
    Mignor whimpered and his eyes were wide and sober. “O-o-o-okay. P-p-p-please don’t h-h-hurt me.”
    “Promise!” Sirra demanded, enjoying the thrill of power while also desperately holding back from turning this into a bloodbath.
    “I PROMISE!” He yelped, seeing the bloodlust gather in Sirra’s eyes. “Please just don’t hurt me!”
    Sirra held him for a moment more before dropping him onto the cold tiled floor. She straightened up. “Good.” She stepped away from him and turned her back on him, stroking the blade in her hand and thinking how much it’d hurt if she plunged it into her arm. “Now, I’m going to take the rest of the day off.” Her head and eyes turned to lock on her still cowering boss. “Any problems?”
    “N-n-no!” He quickly replied, “None a-a-at all!”
    “Good,” Sirra smirked. She turned and walked towards the back door of the room, the quick exit out of the chemist. However, she stopped as she opened the door, turning to grin evilly at her boss. “And remember, Miggy, one word and,” she drew the knife slowly across her own neck but didn’t draw any blood, “I’ll be eating your insides for my breakfast.”
    “Oh great Tallest no!” Mignor cowered on the floor, tears falling down his face.
    Sirra chuckled as she knew she had him under complete control. Mignor was a wimp; he’d rather kill himself before facing her anger.
    She marched out the door and into the horribly smelly and dirty backstreet where piles of trash lay uncollected and vermin ran about freely amongst the probably toxic waste of the planet.
    Sirra shut her mouth tightly, not wanting to breathe the rancid air, at least not in this alleyway.
    As she walked out onto the always crowded streets, pushing and bumping past countless other people, she scowled. She really hated this place.

                                                               *********

    Sirra’s apartment was tiny, just like everyone else’s. It consisted of a front room, a walk-in kitchen and a small bathroom-shower.
    And that was about it.
    She had one window, an uncovered light, a TV and a table-desk with no chair. All her clothes where placed, folded and roughly organised, along the left wall, near the window, and all her knifes and chemicals placed on the one table-desk where she mixed her drug rape pills.
    The walls where a dirty grey-green, the badly carpeted red floor was freezing cold and the kitchen was barely above hygienic level while the bathroom itself was falling apart, just like everything else in the building.
    One might say it was a rather pathetic place to have but when everyone else had the same or worse, Sirra counted herself lucky to at least have a place like this at all. At least she was high up enough in the apartment building to avoid being broken into and she still owned some rarities such as makeup and a working TV.
    Sighing, she slammed the door closed and walked into her rotting flat to collapse onto her lumpy couch and flick on the TV.
    Immediately she smiled, it was a news report covering the recent brutal torture, rape and eventually killings of girls on Devastus.
    Sirra’s eyes closed and she fell to lie on her couch as the news reporter read out the grisly reports of how this was the seventh girl to be found. She’d been kept hostage for an estimated seven days, each day had involved her being repeatedly beaten and raped and her antennae had been removed and not found with the body. She must have lived in the worst, most horrible kinds of pain before dying.
    Sirra hugged herself, imaging all of that happening to her. Her deepest wish was to one day being whipped, raped and tortured to the brink of death, the ultimate masochistic experience.
    Her eyes opened and she looked to the wall that the TV was placed against. Covering the horrible greying paint were hundreds of cut outs and pictures from newspapers and print-offs, all of them of the most gory, horrible, terrifying murders and murders that had existed in the last twenty years.
    Pictures of the Irk Ripper, now known to be the businessirken Neep, were on the far left of the wall. The pictures of his lair where they’d found the mass remains of his victims and the occasional body they’d found in other places.
    He was Sirra’s first real crush, and that was before she’d seen his face. She’d become obsessed with the case when it’d first reached the headlines and had followed it devotedly.
    That was when she’d first started her collection fund. She had decided that she’d get herself off this metal cesspool and go to Irk, become a prostitute and find the Irk Ripper herself.
    Of course, when they’d found him her jaw had hit the floor, she couldn’t believe how hot Neep was! She’d fantasised about him for weeks, at one point even screaming out his name while being assaulted by one of her victims.
    But, when she’d learned about how he’d completely surrendered and even helped the police, bowing to their every whim, she’d began to lose interest. He might have been sexy and psychotic, but he was also a complete wimp.
    And that, to Sirra, was a serious turn off.
    But by then, she had another reason to change her obsession. A new psycho had emerged, one so fantastically deadly and violent that the papers had named him as the most horrifying irken of the centaury. An irken so insane and sadistic, he’d taken out a whole planet, females, children, torturing and killing them all, and even taken out the three highly trained squads of retrieval strike teams sent to get him.
    She’d come home one day, only to once again have her jaw drop.
    Sideos, the invader-turned-psychopath, had been caught on planet Dilico after killing everything on there.
    He was also one of the sexiest irkens Sirra had ever laid eyes on. He screamed ‘bad boy’, resisting arrest, mocking everyone who’d tried to ask him questions, insulting the control brain at his trail and even almost escaping three times during his capture. He was thin, a good height, rather handsome and highly confident, a clear sex object if Sirra had ever seen one.
    She’d plastered all of the middle of her TV wall with his works, hundreds and hundreds of police profiling pictures of his victims, his blood coated base, and several pictures of the irken himself.
    She’d changed her collection fund from going to Irk, to saving up money to go visit him at the Seven asylum he was now confined to.
    However, she’d learned something that had put a big damper on her hopes of hooking up with him.
    Sideos hated sexualised irkens and was a vocally rabid supporter of Miyuki’s plans to suppress irken sex drives for future generations. It was likely if she came onto him, she’d be beaten but not raped, which would be a huge disappointment for her.
    She’d turned her attention to the other so far unsolved crimes in the empire, specifically the cases of the mysterious mutilator rapist-murderer only known as ‘The Desolate One’, who’s murders seemed to focus on changing the victim with metal implants and symbolic creatures but many were unsure which murders where his as they appeared all over the empire. Either he moved around a lot, or he was plagued by copy cats.
    Her other current obsession was the sadistic rapist-murderer working on Devastus. Every time she saw them report a murder from him on the news she’d squeal in delight. She was now saving up to visit that planet and try and prostitute herself out, hoping to use herself as live bait to catch him.
    He, so far, seemed to have everything Sirra wanted. Violent sadistic tendencies, brutal raping urges and, judging from his inability to be caught, enough power and influence to get away with it. Plus they’d shown his victims to have been whipped, Sirra’s personal favourite fantasy.
    She knew she’d meet him, she just knew it. She couldn’t really tell why or how but she knew from pure instinct that one day she’d meet him. It was if something inside her was literally calling out to her, telling her that this was something extremely important to her life and that if she accomplished nothing else, she should complete this one dream. Sirra hoped he’d be good looking, strong, tall, as confident as Sideos and as smart and charming, and as rich, as Neep.
    She sighed again as she daydreamed about him, whoever he was. Her ideal irken, waiting for her somewhere, unaware that across space on some horrible little sewer-opening of a planet, there was a girl lying on a couch wishing to be with him.
    Sirra suddenly looked away from the TV, her smile slowly vanishing from her mouth. She knew the likelihood of meeting him, of meeting any of the people she lusted after where tiny, almost impossible. She lived on a no-where planet in a no-where sector in a pitiful little apartment.
    She had barely enough money to survive as it was, and that included the monies she stole from her victims. Her collection money wasn’t even enough to buy her a ticket out of this half of the galaxy, never mind a legit trip to any of the far-away places she wished to go to.
    She’d thought about stealing a voot or a cruiser, but she knew next to nothing about hijacking those things. Plus all the import-export out of the planet was very closely watched, as it was with all production and military supplying planets. She’d never get past a checkpoint without someone finding out she’d stolen her ride.
    Then it’d be right to jail, or worse, execution and she’d die without even meeting her fellow maniacs.
    They always said it was big wide open universe that anyone could go and explode should they wish. What they didn’t tell you was that you could only explore it if you where rich or important enough. If you didn’t have monies or power than you were nobody and nobodies never go anywhere, they have to work constantly just to scrape together a pathetic life.
    She blinked and looked to the floor sadly. All she wanted to do was get out of here, away from this horrible place, to go and achieve her dreams. But it was so impossibly hard and they where all so very far away.
    What made it all worse was that she was completely alone. She knew she was evil, an insane sadomasochistic mass murdering rapist, but that didn’t mean she didn’t get lonely. If she had just one person, one person who she could connect to… who she could rely on to help her achieve her goals… than maybe she’d be more optimistic about the future.
    She sighed and slowly got to her feet, turning the TV off as the report switched to economics and the announcement of plans for ‘Operation: Impending Doom’.
    Walking over to the window she looked out onto the view, mostly spoiled by the huge, seemingly never-ending walls of the hive-factories. But just beyond that, just in the very, very distance, hiding behind the smog and the filth and the gas, was the one setting sun of the planet.
    As the already pollution-red coloured sky become even deeper, Sirra couldn’t help but feel that even in a place like this there was hope, hope of a better life, somewhere out there… with someone special at her side, even for someone like herself.
    After all, miracles can happen to anyone.

                                                           *********

    Sirra liked only one thing about Lebensrautia, and that was the night club scene. The industrial nature of the planet and the general mass poverty of the people had given rise to illegal raves and clubs which existed in abandoned factories and soon-to-be demolished warehouses.
    The police had tried to crackdown on these, but it seemed the people seemed to like them. It was only logical in Sirra’s mind that such an overworked impoverish group of people would resort to the illegal and unlawful in order to blow off some steam.
    The police mostly now turned a blind eye, uncaring as long as nothing got too out of control. It was also rumoured a lot of them where under the pay of the some of the crime bosses and drug smugglers that also ran rife on the hive-industry planet.
    Either way, it worked out well for Sirra. She could move unnoticed through crowds, and most of her victims weren’t even noticed missing until months later. Some had never been discovered, being buried and forgotten when the buildings she’d hid them in had been demolished and built over.
    No one asked questions about anyone else at the raves, it was an unspoken rule of the places. No one talked about them afterwards, and you ignored anyone who you might have met at them, and, as a small added bonus, the darkness of the illegal raves meant a lot of people couldn’t see her face, or her scars, anyway, so she blended right in.
    She was just another poor citizen looking for a night to drink, dance and get laid before going back to whatever pitiful job they had.
    The music pounded out around her, obliterating any chance of being heard, no matter how loud they, or she, screamed. There were so many people here that Sirra had to press herself against the pipe she was leaning against to stop herself from being knocked into. She could taste the smoke and beer and the sweat in the air and the scent of hundreds of prey gripped her antennae, making her heart beat just that little bit faster. The darkness and shadows of the night where cut up and sliced by the flash of dance lights and glow sticks. There was no moonlight showing through the high-up windows of the old abandoned factory where the rave was taking place, there was no moon on Lebensrautia and the stars where permanently blocked by the smog.
    She held a plastic cup in her hand which was filled with her alcoholic drink, although she’d not really drank much of it. She was too busy trying to look out for a victim. After today, she was rather eager to sink her teeth into someone’s flesh. She could feel the beast inside her prowling under her skin and on her mind, hungry for the taste of pain and flesh and blood.
    She soothed it with the mental promise of food and pleasurable suffering soon.
    Sirra had changed her clothes; after all, she wouldn’t be seen dead wearing her normal uniform in anywhere but at work.
    She was now wearing a pair of her favourite thigh-high boots which had a zipper up the sides and a short eye-catching leather black skirt. She also wore a red halter top with little gold linings on the neck straps and going around the edges of the top, which of course easily showed off her figure, legs and cleavage. However, it also showed off the scars covering her back, arms and upper legs. But she didn’t mind, no one noticed them in the dim light and for those that did she could always say she worked in the inner factories where people where injured by flying pieces of metal all the time and by the time the drug was taking effect, they didn’t really say anything anyway.
    She’d also applied some makeup, enhancing her eyelashes and also using eyeliner to draw out two lines leading away from her eyes and to her temples. She also had applied some deep green lipstick and wore some, admittedly fake, gold clips on her antennae.
Around her shoulder she carried a small black purse, which inside held her keypass to get back into her flat and some drug-rape pills and some mixed chemical spray disguised in a perfume bottle, so that once she was done she could spray the crime scene and get away scot free, again. Hidden inside her right boot was a twelve inch combat knife, and just for security, another one was hidden in her left boot.
    Sirra was completely ready for a good nights raping and murder.
    And she’d just picked out a target.
    He was a tall looking irken, with Sirra coming just up to his eyes, with greenish, yellowy tinged eyes and a rather well built stature. He was wearing some black boots, a pair of dark blue pants and a matching top with a greyish shirt under it. He was leaning against a staircase which led up to the offices from which the old boss of this place would have done their main work. In one hand he held a drink and the other were stuffed into his pocket. His eyes kept scanning the crowd, as if he was looking for someone.
    Sirra grinned. He would do fine for her needs.
    The urges inside Sirra woke up and went into overdrive; she wanted him right now. She needed to be hurt, she needed to kill and she needed to satisfy the demon that was roaring inside her.
    Immediately she began to push her way though the crowd, shoving roughly past fellow irkens to reach her intended victim for the night. However, before she reached him, she veered slightly and instead headed up the staircase towards the office. If the office was clear it’d make a perfect spot to comment her crime.
    When she reached the door, she noticed the keypad was out of service, so she simply tried pushing the door open. Annoyingly, it was locked, but that didn’t stop her. Taking a quick look around to check for anyone watching, she drew out her right boot blade and jammed it into the tiny space between the door and the keypad. She then pushed the blade in until she was certain it was between the bolt locking the door and sharply hit it. The door instantly cracked open, coughing dust all over her.
    Sirra quickly wafted the dust away and coughed lightly before squinting into the room. No one was there, only an old desk and a tipped over chair.
    Perfect.
    She discreetly placed her knife away and turned to check on her victim, still standing, watching the mass dancing crowd, sipping his drink. She grinned as she shut the office door and made her way back down the staircase.
    She wondered how she’d do this, would she approach him right up? She could try the sweet tactic, maybe the chat up tactic or maybe the slut tactic… she decided on the slut tactic. It always distracted them from their drink and sometimes it even got them interested enough to follow her to wherever she wanted to kill them. Males often went completely stupid and oblivious to her true motives when she offered them quick sex, especially when she told them she was already protected.
    Irken safe sex protection was rather simple. All it was, was a small green patch, rather like a plaster, that one had to stick onto their body, it didn’t matter where. The patch would simply put chemicals into the irken’s body that would stop them from properly being able to fertilise anything and thus stopped any chance of reproduction while allowing the user to still have sex with whomever they wanted. Of course, males and females had to by different patches for their gender, but it always worked well with only one in a million chance of failure. It usually worked the moment you applied it, although on the box it advised a minute wait and if left would last at least twenty hour irken standard hours.
    Sirra practically swore by them otherwise she’d probably have several kids by now. She always stuck hers onto her ankle, it was the one place no one ever attacked and her boot’s usually stayed on during the rape, so it had no chance of being taken off.
    She reached the bottom of the stairs and reached into her purse, taking out the two pills she needed. She then adjusted her top, flattened her skirt, pulled up her boots and straightened herself up.
   Moving quickly, she slid herself up to the irken and bumped into him. He immediately jumped and turned his head, a flash of excitement in his eyes, but it quickly vanished into confusion as Sirra fluttered her eyelashes up at him.
    “Hey there handsome,” She practically shouted over the music and smiled as seductively as she could, “I haven’t seen you here before, what’s your name?”
    “It’s, erm, Zigdan,” He replied, his voice wavering slightly but just as loud as so Sirra could hear him over the music, “And I’m afraid I’m waiting for someone.”
    Sirra immediately cursed herself, she should have guessed. But it didn’t matter, she’d have him anyway, it wasn’t like this would be the first time she’d stolen someone who was waiting for their girlfriend.
    She quickly moved so she was pressing herself right up against him, locking his eyes with hers. She could see how horribly uncomfortable he was getting and it was then that she took to chance to slip the two rape pills into his drink. She knew they’d sizzle and create a small bunch of bubbles whilst they dissolved, but she also knew that there wasn’t a chance in the world that he’d hear it, and she was distracting him enough not to keep an eye on his drink.
    She grinned up at him while making sure to press her boobs against him, that always guaranteed complete male distraction; they were always so easy to manipulate if you suggested the idea of sex. “Oh come on, sexy,” She giggled girlishly and raised one of her legs up to brush against his, making him try and force himself into the staircase wall even more. “I bet I could show you a much more exciting time then she could, and I don’t see her anywhere around here…” She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heart thumping from pure anxiety, it only made her grin even more wolfishly, “She’ll never know…”
    “N-n-no!” He slipped out, away from her, shaking his head. It was obvious he was scared witless at her very aggressive advancements. Her eyes flashed in inner joy as, without even looking at it, he took several large gulps of his drink, probably to calm himself down.
    Oh how wrong he was.
    Sirra suddenly shrugged and turned away, mostly to make it look like she was leaving, partly to hide her evil smirk of victory. “Fine, be boring, I’ll find someone more exciting.” She then disappeared into the crowd, only to circle around and hide on the shadowy staircase, her eyes locked onto Zegdan who seemed to sign and resume his post against the staircase.
    Sirra waited for about one and a half minutes then grinned; the drugs should be kicking in right about now. True to her time honoured calculations, she watched as Zegdan blinked and swayed slightly and the colour drain a little from his face.
    She ran quickly back down the steps and back to the irken, who was starting to look around the crowds, his eyes twitching and a snarl appearing on his mouth. Sirra grabbed his arm and began quickly dragging him towards the staircase. However, Zegdan suddenly growled at her like an animal and grabbed her shoulder, throwing her against the wall just at the foot of the staircase.
    Sirra was worried he’d attack her too soon as it was clear the drugs where acting very quickly, but he paused, obviously trying to fight the effects. It was cute when they did that, but no one ever managed to successfully throw off the effects of Sirra’s lethal concoction, she made sure to make it very strong.
    She took the chance to push him, that always made them angry when under the drug, and run up the stairs. He chased her immediately, his eyes glazed over with a mindless lustful rage. She burst into the office and turned to check if he was still following her, but as she did he literally leapt onto her, knocking her roughly to the floor.
    He bit at her shoulder, drawing blood and grabbed her wrists, forcing them to the sides of her head. She grinned, getting more turned on by the second.
    What followed was masked completely by the overly loud thumping of the music and the shadows that surround Sirra and her drug-insane victim. No one could hear her screams of pain and delight, or see the effects of the mind and mood altering drug on the once sober irken, or see when the blood that had been trickling from Sirra’s wounds began pouring from the gaping slash marks in Zigdan’s body.
    He was dying, he was losing too much blood but amazingly the drug kept the irken male going, kept forcing himself onto her and kept biting and tearing at her. Sirra was still having a great time, but she could feel the end coming soon and she raised her knife above Zigdans back.
    Then she froze.
    Standing at the doorway, frozen in shock and terror, eyes locked onto the bloody and horrible sight, was a female irken. Her eyes where huge and red and she was of a good shape, but heavier looking then Sirra and she was wearing a striped black and white dress.
    Her and Sirra’s eyes locked and Sirra instantly knew that she was caught. This was it, she was finished, done, she’d be captured and executed.
    And suddenly, Sirra burst out laughing. She had no idea why, but she was laughing. The girl did nothing and Sirra kept laughing. It was the look, the same shocked, stunned and horrified look that reminded Sirra of a small vermin creature before she stamped on it. It looked so wrong on this girls face, like it was painted on. And Sirra couldn’t stop laughing at it.
    Then she plunged the knife into Zigdans back, just as he arched up howling like an animal. However, his howl turned into horrible scream of pure pain and blood poured from his mouth and back as well as from the many cuts and slices Sirra had already delivered onto him.
    The girl finally snapped and screamed so loud it even went over the music. Sirra would have winced if she wasn’t so busy trying to push Zigdan’s dead weight of her, but the blood was making it hard to get a good grip on him. She was also aching all over from her cuts, not to mention she’d just been raped, even if it was something she’d thoroughly enjoyed.
    The girl staggered back and screamed again, amazingly even louder. Sirra felt like shouting at her to shut up but she wanted to find what was left of her top. She looked around as she pulled her skirt back up, wincing a little at the ache, but enjoying the general tingling sensation of the blood and pain that was all over her body. She was also enjoying the smell of a fresh kill and the feel of inner satisfaction from obeying her primal killing instinct.
    She managed to find her top, which was now ripped. She sighed in annoyance, ignoring the silence of the music and the sound of mass screaming and panicking outside the room. Her favourite top was ruined.
    “Great,” she murmured as she heard the sound of sirens coming in the background, “I’m going to be caught and I’ll look like a tramp who can’t afford clothes.”
    She couldn’t help but be surprised at the swiftness of the response time though, she figured they must have been watching the place anyway. As she tired her halter top back on, making sure it fit her again, she sighed and stood up, picking up the chair and lowering herself slowly onto it, her body still hurt from being assaulted and raped.
    Looking up at the ceiling she wondered what would happen to her. She’d probably be executed, yet, that feeling of meeting that special someone hadn’t died. In fact, it was assuring her that she would live through this, that she’d one day meet the one she so highly lusted after.
    The sounds of troopers entering the hall were heard, and people began shouting and screaming and generally trying to get as far away from her as possible. She blinked, her arms lying at her sides feeling the slightly tickling feeling of blood and gore dripping off her.
    For some reason, she was actually looking forward to being captured. She smiled; at least she’ll be getting off this planet, and for free! She’ll have a first class trip to her trial, probably fed a better meal then she could cook anyway and get her own personal bodyguards. The police burst into the room, flashing lights into her eyes and shouting for her to stay still and get down and drop her weapons. She looked to the policeirk facing her, squinting and frowning.
    She then said the only thing that could come to her mind at the time. “Well it took you long enough!”

                                                         *********

    At her trial, she discovered that she was apparently something of a celebrity. Everyone wanted to take her picture and all the reporters kept shouting questions at her. She took to chance to try and pose as much as possible with the police dragging her into the courtroom.
    And then she’d had the best news that anyone had ever delivered to her. She was to be placed indefinitely in the highest guarded wing of the maximum security prison-asylum of Skitzatos Seven.
    Along side all her favourite lust objects.
    She’d cheered for joy at the sentencing and had been rather eager to get to her cell. The faster she got there the faster she’d get to meet all her fellow sadists, rapists and murderers.
    She now sat inside her cell, mouth-guard and straightjacket clamped onto her. She didn’t like the clothes in asylum, they where a bit too uniform for her tastes, but this was the cost she’d have to pay to talk with her hero’s then so be it.
    She was rather enjoying her new cell, it was so clean and tidy she’d almost forgotten what white looked like. Everything was so soft and cushiony, plus she knew she’d never have to clean it. She got three meals a day, all cooked by someone else, and she was about to get a visit from her newly assigned doctor, whom she knew was a male, which made things even better. The door of her almost blindingly white cell suddenly swished open and Sirra’s eyes widened.
    In walked the oddest looking irken she’d ever seen. He was short, only just coming to Sirra’s neck, and his eyes where covered by a pair of dark brown goggles. He seemed a tad overweight and his skin was of a deep green. His grey-tinged antennae seemed to flicker every few moments along with a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was wearing a buttoned up white doctors coat, black pants and black boots.
    The smell of old, almost exotic smoke hit Sirra like a blast and she instantly learned that he was a smoker.
    The irken looked at Sirra and slowly frowned then looked to the notepad he held in his hands. “Ahh, it iz zee zadomazokhizt, Zirra, yaa?”
    Sirra couldn’t believe his accent was real and she started laughing in response.
    The irken frowned and barked, “Zhut up!” Which Sirra only did out of shock, she hadn’t been shouted at like that since conscription training.
    She frowned at the doctor but before she could speak he marched over to the one table and sat down on a chair opposite her. “My name is Doktor Greep and I vill be your pzykhiatrizt from now on.” He locked her with a stern look. “Underztand?”
     Sirra grinned. “I love a guy who can order me around.”
     The doctor twitched but then sighed in annoyance, “I kan zee vee have a lot of work to do.”

Description
    Lebensrautia. Just another irken occupied planet in a universe filled with irken occupied planets.
    This planet was made specifically to house and cater for the irken empire’s clearly uncountable number of irkens. The planet itself was like one huge living city, a constant mass of wires and smoke and metal covered everything. Pyramid-esque skyscrapers shot up into the eternally dirty brown clouds and hover-lights were dotted in the air, weaving in and out of the tall hive-like structures caving out pathways for the planets never-ending supply of transporters and cruisers. Fire belched from the sides of intertwining factories and industry buildings, huge places that ate up the land and dwarfed most of the other structures. The sounds of billions of machines all working; building whatever it was they built, billions of lives all labouring and eating and talking were soundtracked by the noise of the constantly humming space-craft and voots.
    The effect made the planet appear to be hosted by a race of machine-insects living on the last dregs of whatever almost depleted supplies the planet had left to offer. Their constant unresting work was all their lives seemed to be. This drudgery of the same old dull colours and dirty surroundings, the same bitter taste of pollution in the air and the horrible smell of industry that one eventually got used to after living there for a while, but never quite forgot.
    The streets of this hive-planet where packed with billions of irkens, several hundred million vortians and the rest a marvellous gallery of creatures and species from all over the galaxy, nay, the universe, all living and breathing and walking and working and eating and sleeping together, days after days, weeks after weeks, months after months, years after years.
    There wasn’t much out of the ordinary on Lebensrautia, after all, it was only one of a million other industry hive planets. Nobody was really special here; everyone was equal in their mundane lives.
    One thing everybody shared on Lebensrautia was that no one ever escaped. No one moved away to a better life, not unless you where one of the top elite caste on the planet.
    Every lower caste irken and alien alike dreamed of moving to the places they saw in holiday adverts and rotting posters. To the places they saw on their TV’s and in the movies they watched.
    But they couldn’t, they made too little money and most could barely afford to live in the compact, tiny square flats that where built en-mess to house the working population.
    Everybody here wanted to get out, to get away and to go somewhere cleaner and nicer with less people and better air.
    Even the insane wanted to get out.
    Deep in sector 77GG43, packed in a long row of shops, lay a run down looking chemists with a faded sign above the door reading ‘Mignor’s Chemist’. The window showed several old posters for different pills and medicines, but they where obscured buy the metal grating covering the glass.
    Crime on this planet, especially at this level, was rife. To many, it was a constant pain of having the few things that they owned taken from them with little support from the police, who where far too underpaid and ill equipped to solve any crimes.
    To some however, this simply meant it was easier to get away with things.
    Sitting, leaning away from the front desk of her workstation of the chemist shop, was a slim and rather pretty looking irken female.
    She was of an average irken height but possibly an inch or two higher. Her body was slim in build and quite feminine looking with a nicely shaped chest but her body shape was mostly hidden by her uniform, which was a pair of long, shape disguising dull blue pants and a dull blue slightly oversized t-shirt with the chemist name on the left breast as well as her white nametag. However, she wore a more fitting long sleeved black top under it, which covered her arms up to her wrists. Her eyes were of a rose-red, healthy and almost seductive when combined with her slim, very attractive looking face with naturally thin, long eyelashes and long, straight antennae which ended in a sharp curl. She was wearing no makeup or any jewellery, which made her look rather plain but didn’t take away her good looks.
    She was currently watching a Klakson music video on a small, propped TV that was placed on the corner of the large but completely transparent energy shield that protected her from any angry customer. The only hole in this shield was a small rectangle box connecting to the workstation itself, through which she could give out the backroom medicines and prescriptions.
    It was a horrible irony, as in the hyper-technical age of the irken empire, one could pay for nanomachines to be injected into ones body to cure any possible disease they may have but that operation was highly expensive and so the corporations quickly managed to develop smaller temporary cures, usually in a pill form.
    The result? People continued to catch illnesses that where already cured but still had to pay for the less effective treatment though chemists and GP’s. The frighteningly large rich-poor gap in the economy only continued to force the poorest to stay poor while the rich got richer.
    But at least it still gave the poorer citizens a change to get better, they still had the basics… but that was it.
    The door of the shop opened and the females gave lazily turned towards the door as a far older female irken, hunched over even, slowly made their way into the shop.
    The employee grinned as her eyes showed she recognised the older irken and she stood up only to lean onto the counter and look down at the hunched irken.
    “Good morning Miss Lorac,” She greeted loudly as the older irken hobbled up to the workstation.
    “What?!” Miss Lorac pulled one of her antennae forward and squinted her grey hued green eyes the chemist.
    The employee leaned further forward, but avoided touching the energy shield. “I said GOOD MORNING Miss Lorac!”
    Miss Lorac smiled and her eyes brightened slightly. “Oh! Good morning Sirra deary!”
    Sirra chuckled, the old irken came in here at least once a week asking for something or other, yet what she really needed was some antennae hearing aids, the old irken was a deaf as a post and almost blind.
    Sirra enjoyed using this to her advantage. “And how’s your rotten decaying ugly self today?”
    Miss Lorac smiled oblivious, “I’m fine deary! Yourself?”
    “Oh you know,” Sirra smiled sweetly and one could see the sharpened fangs of her teeth, flashing like a bloodthirsty vixen, “I killed a small smoompty on the way to work today and managed to finish washing the blood out of my favourite top, so I think I’ll brutally rape and slaughter someone tonight.”
    If anyone else was in there, they probably would have run a mile. It was easy to tell by her eyes and smile that she wasn’t kidding, not to mention it was currently the talk of Lebensrautia of the mysterious psycho-rapist killer who seemed to slaughtering males who visited nightclubs or tried to pick up prostitutes.
    However, what got everyone was that this wasn’t someone raping and killing females, but a female raping and killing males. Not that it was unheard of, it was just a rarity.
    Once more, this killer had somehow managed to make every irken male so far actually attack her, as shown from the strips of torn clothing and non-victim DNA taken from the crime scenes.
    This would have usually lead to an imitate find and arrest, but the killer was again one step ahead of them. They seemed to have sprayed the area with a huge mix of chemicals which pretty much destroyed any chance of tracking them through clothing or DNA.
    They where on a rampage, raping and killing whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted to, and the police where completely useless in even trying to catch them.
    Sirra smiled as she thought about how the Tallest-Chief-Police was currently the laughing stock and the object of hate on Lebensrautia right now, all because he and his police force where too stupid to find her.
    “…and then he told me I might have something wrong with my back, and so I need painkillers if you have any.” Miss Lorac finally finished.
    Sirra had zoned out for most of it, but she caught ‘painkillers’, and she nodded. “Alright then you sad old pile of fugly, I’ll go get something, maybe cyanide, ok?”
    “I’ll wait here for you deary!” Miss Lorac smiled.
    Sirra smiled back thinking what a completely stupid fool the old female was. As she turned and walked into the backroom, she wondered why she didn’t just kill her off. No one would care or notice, all it’d take would be to slip some poisons into her order and she’d be rid of the old thing in no time.
    But as Sirra collected the proper pills, she chuckled. It’d be losing out on too much fun at Miss Lorac’s expense if she did; she enjoyed thinking the only one who knew she was a completely twisted psycho rapist was half-blind deaf old irken.
    “Sirra?” Her head turned to see a fatter, shorter male irken with purple eyes come out of the boss’s office. He was wearing the same uniform as Sirra but without the long sleeved top. He looked tired, worn out, and he swayed. His eyes seemed out of focus and his mouth was open slightly. When he spoke, his words seemed slurred. “Sirra… I-I-I don’t feelssstoo good.”
    Sirra smiled, suppressing a scowl. She hated her boss more than anyone but she couldn’t kill him or she’d lose her job and she needed her job to order the chemicals she needed to get away with her night time fun. So, she just drugged him into confusion and silence, it was easier that way.
    “Look, Mignor,” she reached into her pocket, taking out a small plastic bottle filled with little blue and white coloured pills, “You just need to take more medicine. You’re ill.”
    “I’ms not ill…” He managed to mumble, swaying on the spot, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, “You’re m-m-making me ill.”
    Sirra froze as she heard the truth. However, her smile turned in a deadly growl and she quickly advanced on him. “Well in that case, here,” she grabbed him by the front of the shirt. He tried to push her away, but he was too dazed and weak to effectively fight back.
    She smirked at him, “Have a nice nap.” And her fist connected with the space between Mignors eye’s, instantly knocking him unconscious to the floor.
    Sirra may have been slim and pretty, but it didn’t mean she was weak. She knew she could have easily pushed herself to be a solider, maybe even an invader, but she had no interest in all of that. Too much work and not enough play in her opinion. She was far more deadly than most people thought on first glance and she liked to keep it that way.
    The sudden urge to tear him apart almost overwhelmed Sirra, but she managed to hold back, she could always kill him in a moment.
    She still needed to get rid of that stupid old moron out front.
    Going back to Miss Lorac’s medicine, to which she filled with whatever was at hand, Sirra took the small bottle and walked back to the front of the shop.
    She shoved the probably deadly combination of pills through the little opening and waited for the old irken to count her monies out.
    She finally took the bottle and looked up to Sirra, her eyes sparkling. “That you sweetie, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
    “Probably keel over and die, doing us all a big favour,” Sirra grinned back.
    The impossibly naive old woman turned and walked out the door, calling back, “Good bye Sirra! Take care!”
    “Good bye Miss Lorac!” Sirra cheerfully called as the door shut, “Die soon ok?”
    She sighed the moment the doors closed and she immediately tapped a security button under the work desk, locking the door shut.
    It was time to deal with the boss…
    She turned and walked into the backroom again, where her boss was slowly groaning as he came back around. Sirra quickly marched into the small kitchen-esk area, where one could make themselves a sandwich and a drink, and took out a large bread-cutting knife. She then marched back to stand over to her boss, whose eyes where flickering open, and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and glared viciously down on him, holding the knife clearly in her hand.
    “Now listen here you WORTHLESS piece of shit!” She growled out, “You’re not going to say a word about ANYTHING I do here, or…” and she drew the knife to the shorter irkens throat, “I’ll fucking kill you.”
    Mignor whimpered and his eyes were wide and sober. “O-o-o-okay. P-p-p-please don’t h-h-hurt me.”
    “Promise!” Sirra demanded, enjoying the thrill of power while also desperately holding back from turning this into a bloodbath.
    “I PROMISE!” He yelped, seeing the bloodlust gather in Sirra’s eyes. “Please just don’t hurt me!”
    Sirra held him for a moment more before dropping him onto the cold tiled floor. She straightened up. “Good.” She stepped away from him and turned her back on him, stroking the blade in her hand and thinking how much it’d hurt if she plunged it into her arm. “Now, I’m going to take the rest of the day off.” Her head and eyes turned to lock on her still cowering boss. “Any problems?”
    “N-n-no!” He quickly replied, “None a-a-at all!”
    “Good,” Sirra smirked. She turned and walked towards the back door of the room, the quick exit out of the chemist. However, she stopped as she opened the door, turning to grin evilly at her boss. “And remember, Miggy, one word and,” she drew the knife slowly across her own neck but didn’t draw any blood, “I’ll be eating your insides for my breakfast.”
    “Oh great Tallest no!” Mignor cowered on the floor, tears falling down his face.
    Sirra chuckled as she knew she had him under complete control. Mignor was a wimp; he’d rather kill himself before facing her anger.
    She marched out the door and into the horribly smelly and dirty backstreet where piles of trash lay uncollected and vermin ran about freely amongst the probably toxic waste of the planet.
    Sirra shut her mouth tightly, not wanting to breathe the rancid air, at least not in this alleyway.
    As she walked out onto the always crowded streets, pushing and bumping past countless other people, she scowled. She really hated this place.

                                                               *********

    Sirra’s apartment was tiny, just like everyone else’s. It consisted of a front room, a walk-in kitchen and a small bathroom-shower.
    And that was about it.
    She had one window, an uncovered light, a TV and a table-desk with no chair. All her clothes where placed, folded and roughly organised, along the left wall, near the window, and all her knifes and chemicals placed on the one table-desk where she mixed her drug rape pills.
    The walls where a dirty grey-green, the badly carpeted red floor was freezing cold and the kitchen was barely above hygienic level while the bathroom itself was falling apart, just like everything else in the building.
    One might say it was a rather pathetic place to have but when everyone else had the same or worse, Sirra counted herself lucky to at least have a place like this at all. At least she was high up enough in the apartment building to avoid being broken into and she still owned some rarities such as makeup and a working TV.
    Sighing, she slammed the door closed and walked into her rotting flat to collapse onto her lumpy couch and flick on the TV.
    Immediately she smiled, it was a news report covering the recent brutal torture, rape and eventually killings of girls on Devastus.
    Sirra’s eyes closed and she fell to lie on her couch as the news reporter read out the grisly reports of how this was the seventh girl to be found. She’d been kept hostage for an estimated seven days, each day had involved her being repeatedly beaten and raped and her antennae had been removed and not found with the body. She must have lived in the worst, most horrible kinds of pain before dying.
    Sirra hugged herself, imaging all of that happening to her. Her deepest wish was to one day being whipped, raped and tortured to the brink of death, the ultimate masochistic experience.
    Her eyes opened and she looked to the wall that the TV was placed against. Covering the horrible greying paint were hundreds of cut outs and pictures from newspapers and print-offs, all of them of the most gory, horrible, terrifying murders and murders that had existed in the last twenty years.
    Pictures of the Irk Ripper, now known to be the businessirken Neep, were on the far left of the wall. The pictures of his lair where they’d found the mass remains of his victims and the occasional body they’d found in other places.
    He was Sirra’s first real crush, and that was before she’d seen his face. She’d become obsessed with the case when it’d first reached the headlines and had followed it devotedly.
    That was when she’d first started her collection fund. She had decided that she’d get herself off this metal cesspool and go to Irk, become a prostitute and find the Irk Ripper herself.
    Of course, when they’d found him her jaw had hit the floor, she couldn’t believe how hot Neep was! She’d fantasised about him for weeks, at one point even screaming out his name while being assaulted by one of her victims.
    But, when she’d learned about how he’d completely surrendered and even helped the police, bowing to their every whim, she’d began to lose interest. He might have been sexy and psychotic, but he was also a complete wimp.
    And that, to Sirra, was a serious turn off.
    But by then, she had another reason to change her obsession. A new psycho had emerged, one so fantastically deadly and violent that the papers had named him as the most horrifying irken of the centaury. An irken so insane and sadistic, he’d taken out a whole planet, females, children, torturing and killing them all, and even taken out the three highly trained squads of retrieval strike teams sent to get him.
    She’d come home one day, only to once again have her jaw drop.
    Sideos, the invader-turned-psychopath, had been caught on planet Dilico after killing everything on there.
    He was also one of the sexiest irkens Sirra had ever laid eyes on. He screamed ‘bad boy’, resisting arrest, mocking everyone who’d tried to ask him questions, insulting the control brain at his trail and even almost escaping three times during his capture. He was thin, a good height, rather handsome and highly confident, a clear sex object if Sirra had ever seen one.
    She’d plastered all of the middle of her TV wall with his works, hundreds and hundreds of police profiling pictures of his victims, his blood coated base, and several pictures of the irken himself.
    She’d changed her collection fund from going to Irk, to saving up money to go visit him at the Seven asylum he was now confined to.
    However, she’d learned something that had put a big damper on her hopes of hooking up with him.
    Sideos hated sexualised irkens and was a vocally rabid supporter of Miyuki’s plans to suppress irken sex drives for future generations. It was likely if she came onto him, she’d be beaten but not raped, which would be a huge disappointment for her.
    She’d turned her attention to the other so far unsolved crimes in the empire, specifically the cases of the mysterious mutilator rapist-murderer only known as ‘The Desolate One’, who’s murders seemed to focus on changing the victim with metal implants and symbolic creatures but many were unsure which murders where his as they appeared all over the empire. Either he moved around a lot, or he was plagued by copy cats.
    Her other current obsession was the sadistic rapist-murderer working on Devastus. Every time she saw them report a murder from him on the news she’d squeal in delight. She was now saving up to visit that planet and try and prostitute herself out, hoping to use herself as live bait to catch him.
    He, so far, seemed to have everything Sirra wanted. Violent sadistic tendencies, brutal raping urges and, judging from his inability to be caught, enough power and influence to get away with it. Plus they’d shown his victims to have been whipped, Sirra’s personal favourite fantasy.
    She knew she’d meet him, she just knew it. She couldn’t really tell why or how but she knew from pure instinct that one day she’d meet him. It was if something inside her was literally calling out to her, telling her that this was something extremely important to her life and that if she accomplished nothing else, she should complete this one dream. Sirra hoped he’d be good looking, strong, tall, as confident as Sideos and as smart and charming, and as rich, as Neep.
    She sighed again as she daydreamed about him, whoever he was. Her ideal irken, waiting for her somewhere, unaware that across space on some horrible little sewer-opening of a planet, there was a girl lying on a couch wishing to be with him.
    Sirra suddenly looked away from the TV, her smile slowly vanishing from her mouth. She knew the likelihood of meeting him, of meeting any of the people she lusted after where tiny, almost impossible. She lived on a no-where planet in a no-where sector in a pitiful little apartment.
    She had barely enough money to survive as it was, and that included the monies she stole from her victims. Her collection money wasn’t even enough to buy her a ticket out of this half of the galaxy, never mind a legit trip to any of the far-away places she wished to go to.
    She’d thought about stealing a voot or a cruiser, but she knew next to nothing about hijacking those things. Plus all the import-export out of the planet was very closely watched, as it was with all production and military supplying planets. She’d never get past a checkpoint without someone finding out she’d stolen her ride.
    Then it’d be right to jail, or worse, execution and she’d die without even meeting her fellow maniacs.
    They always said it was big wide open universe that anyone could go and explode should they wish. What they didn’t tell you was that you could only explore it if you where rich or important enough. If you didn’t have monies or power than you were nobody and nobodies never go anywhere, they have to work constantly just to scrape together a pathetic life.
    She blinked and looked to the floor sadly. All she wanted to do was get out of here, away from this horrible place, to go and achieve her dreams. But it was so impossibly hard and they where all so very far away.
    What made it all worse was that she was completely alone. She knew she was evil, an insane sadomasochistic mass murdering rapist, but that didn’t mean she didn’t get lonely. If she had just one person, one person who she could connect to… who she could rely on to help her achieve her goals… than maybe she’d be more optimistic about the future.
    She sighed and slowly got to her feet, turning the TV off as the report switched to economics and the announcement of plans for ‘Operation: Impending Doom’.
    Walking over to the window she looked out onto the view, mostly spoiled by the huge, seemingly never-ending walls of the hive-factories. But just beyond that, just in the very, very distance, hiding behind the smog and the filth and the gas, was the one setting sun of the planet.
    As the already pollution-red coloured sky become even deeper, Sirra couldn’t help but feel that even in a place like this there was hope, hope of a better life, somewhere out there… with someone special at her side, even for someone like herself.
    After all, miracles can happen to anyone.

                                                           *********

    Sirra liked only one thing about Lebensrautia, and that was the night club scene. The industrial nature of the planet and the general mass poverty of the people had given rise to illegal raves and clubs which existed in abandoned factories and soon-to-be demolished warehouses.
    The police had tried to crackdown on these, but it seemed the people seemed to like them. It was only logical in Sirra’s mind that such an overworked impoverish group of people would resort to the illegal and unlawful in order to blow off some steam.
    The police mostly now turned a blind eye, uncaring as long as nothing got too out of control. It was also rumoured a lot of them where under the pay of the some of the crime bosses and drug smugglers that also ran rife on the hive-industry planet.
    Either way, it worked out well for Sirra. She could move unnoticed through crowds, and most of her victims weren’t even noticed missing until months later. Some had never been discovered, being buried and forgotten when the buildings she’d hid them in had been demolished and built over.
    No one asked questions about anyone else at the raves, it was an unspoken rule of the places. No one talked about them afterwards, and you ignored anyone who you might have met at them, and, as a small added bonus, the darkness of the illegal raves meant a lot of people couldn’t see her face, or her scars, anyway, so she blended right in.
    She was just another poor citizen looking for a night to drink, dance and get laid before going back to whatever pitiful job they had.
    The music pounded out around her, obliterating any chance of being heard, no matter how loud they, or she, screamed. There were so many people here that Sirra had to press herself against the pipe she was leaning against to stop herself from being knocked into. She could taste the smoke and beer and the sweat in the air and the scent of hundreds of prey gripped her antennae, making her heart beat just that little bit faster. The darkness and shadows of the night where cut up and sliced by the flash of dance lights and glow sticks. There was no moonlight showing through the high-up windows of the old abandoned factory where the rave was taking place, there was no moon on Lebensrautia and the stars where permanently blocked by the smog.
    She held a plastic cup in her hand which was filled with her alcoholic drink, although she’d not really drank much of it. She was too busy trying to look out for a victim. After today, she was rather eager to sink her teeth into someone’s flesh. She could feel the beast inside her prowling under her skin and on her mind, hungry for the taste of pain and flesh and blood.
    She soothed it with the mental promise of food and pleasurable suffering soon.
    Sirra had changed her clothes; after all, she wouldn’t be seen dead wearing her normal uniform in anywhere but at work.
    She was now wearing a pair of her favourite thigh-high boots which had a zipper up the sides and a short eye-catching leather black skirt. She also wore a red halter top with little gold linings on the neck straps and going around the edges of the top, which of course easily showed off her figure, legs and cleavage. However, it also showed off the scars covering her back, arms and upper legs. But she didn’t mind, no one noticed them in the dim light and for those that did she could always say she worked in the inner factories where people where injured by flying pieces of metal all the time and by the time the drug was taking effect, they didn’t really say anything anyway.
    She’d also applied some makeup, enhancing her eyelashes and also using eyeliner to draw out two lines leading away from her eyes and to her temples. She also had applied some deep green lipstick and wore some, admittedly fake, gold clips on her antennae.
Around her shoulder she carried a small black purse, which inside held her keypass to get back into her flat and some drug-rape pills and some mixed chemical spray disguised in a perfume bottle, so that once she was done she could spray the crime scene and get away scot free, again. Hidden inside her right boot was a twelve inch combat knife, and just for security, another one was hidden in her left boot.
    Sirra was completely ready for a good nights raping and murder.
    And she’d just picked out a target.
    He was a tall looking irken, with Sirra coming just up to his eyes, with greenish, yellowy tinged eyes and a rather well built stature. He was wearing some black boots, a pair of dark blue pants and a matching top with a greyish shirt under it. He was leaning against a staircase which led up to the offices from which the old boss of this place would have done their main work. In one hand he held a drink and the other were stuffed into his pocket. His eyes kept scanning the crowd, as if he was looking for someone.
    Sirra grinned. He would do fine for her needs.
    The urges inside Sirra woke up and went into overdrive; she wanted him right now. She needed to be hurt, she needed to kill and she needed to satisfy the demon that was roaring inside her.
    Immediately she began to push her way though the crowd, shoving roughly past fellow irkens to reach her intended victim for the night. However, before she reached him, she veered slightly and instead headed up the staircase towards the office. If the office was clear it’d make a perfect spot to comment her crime.
    When she reached the door, she noticed the keypad was out of service, so she simply tried pushing the door open. Annoyingly, it was locked, but that didn’t stop her. Taking a quick look around to check for anyone watching, she drew out her right boot blade and jammed it into the tiny space between the door and the keypad. She then pushed the blade in until she was certain it was between the bolt locking the door and sharply hit it. The door instantly cracked open, coughing dust all over her.
    Sirra quickly wafted the dust away and coughed lightly before squinting into the room. No one was there, only an old desk and a tipped over chair.
    Perfect.
    She discreetly placed her knife away and turned to check on her victim, still standing, watching the mass dancing crowd, sipping his drink. She grinned as she shut the office door and made her way back down the staircase.
    She wondered how she’d do this, would she approach him right up? She could try the sweet tactic, maybe the chat up tactic or maybe the slut tactic… she decided on the slut tactic. It always distracted them from their drink and sometimes it even got them interested enough to follow her to wherever she wanted to kill them. Males often went completely stupid and oblivious to her true motives when she offered them quick sex, especially when she told them she was already protected.
    Irken safe sex protection was rather simple. All it was, was a small green patch, rather like a plaster, that one had to stick onto their body, it didn’t matter where. The patch would simply put chemicals into the irken’s body that would stop them from properly being able to fertilise anything and thus stopped any chance of reproduction while allowing the user to still have sex with whomever they wanted. Of course, males and females had to by different patches for their gender, but it always worked well with only one in a million chance of failure. It usually worked the moment you applied it, although on the box it advised a minute wait and if left would last at least twenty hour irken standard hours.
    Sirra practically swore by them otherwise she’d probably have several kids by now. She always stuck hers onto her ankle, it was the one place no one ever attacked and her boot’s usually stayed on during the rape, so it had no chance of being taken off.
    She reached the bottom of the stairs and reached into her purse, taking out the two pills she needed. She then adjusted her top, flattened her skirt, pulled up her boots and straightened herself up.
   Moving quickly, she slid herself up to the irken and bumped into him. He immediately jumped and turned his head, a flash of excitement in his eyes, but it quickly vanished into confusion as Sirra fluttered her eyelashes up at him.
    “Hey there handsome,” She practically shouted over the music and smiled as seductively as she could, “I haven’t seen you here before, what’s your name?”
    “It’s, erm, Zigdan,” He replied, his voice wavering slightly but just as loud as so Sirra could hear him over the music, “And I’m afraid I’m waiting for someone.”
    Sirra immediately cursed herself, she should have guessed. But it didn’t matter, she’d have him anyway, it wasn’t like this would be the first time she’d stolen someone who was waiting for their girlfriend.
    She quickly moved so she was pressing herself right up against him, locking his eyes with hers. She could see how horribly uncomfortable he was getting and it was then that she took to chance to slip the two rape pills into his drink. She knew they’d sizzle and create a small bunch of bubbles whilst they dissolved, but she also knew that there wasn’t a chance in the world that he’d hear it, and she was distracting him enough not to keep an eye on his drink.
    She grinned up at him while making sure to press her boobs against him, that always guaranteed complete male distraction; they were always so easy to manipulate if you suggested the idea of sex. “Oh come on, sexy,” She giggled girlishly and raised one of her legs up to brush against his, making him try and force himself into the staircase wall even more. “I bet I could show you a much more exciting time then she could, and I don’t see her anywhere around here…” She placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heart thumping from pure anxiety, it only made her grin even more wolfishly, “She’ll never know…”
    “N-n-no!” He slipped out, away from her, shaking his head. It was obvious he was scared witless at her very aggressive advancements. Her eyes flashed in inner joy as, without even looking at it, he took several large gulps of his drink, probably to calm himself down.
    Oh how wrong he was.
    Sirra suddenly shrugged and turned away, mostly to make it look like she was leaving, partly to hide her evil smirk of victory. “Fine, be boring, I’ll find someone more exciting.” She then disappeared into the crowd, only to circle around and hide on the shadowy staircase, her eyes locked onto Zegdan who seemed to sign and resume his post against the staircase.
    Sirra waited for about one and a half minutes then grinned; the drugs should be kicking in right about now. True to her time honoured calculations, she watched as Zegdan blinked and swayed slightly and the colour drain a little from his face.
    She ran quickly back down the steps and back to the irken, who was starting to look around the crowds, his eyes twitching and a snarl appearing on his mouth. Sirra grabbed his arm and began quickly dragging him towards the staircase. However, Zegdan suddenly growled at her like an animal and grabbed her shoulder, throwing her against the wall just at the foot of the staircase.
    Sirra was worried he’d attack her too soon as it was clear the drugs where acting very quickly, but he paused, obviously trying to fight the effects. It was cute when they did that, but no one ever managed to successfully throw off the effects of Sirra’s lethal concoction, she made sure to make it very strong.
    She took the chance to push him, that always made them angry when under the drug, and run up the stairs. He chased her immediately, his eyes glazed over with a mindless lustful rage. She burst into the office and turned to check if he was still following her, but as she did he literally leapt onto her, knocking her roughly to the floor.
    He bit at her shoulder, drawing blood and grabbed her wrists, forcing them to the sides of her head. She grinned, getting more turned on by the second.
    What followed was masked completely by the overly loud thumping of the music and the shadows that surround Sirra and her drug-insane victim. No one could hear her screams of pain and delight, or see the effects of the mind and mood altering drug on the once sober irken, or see when the blood that had been trickling from Sirra’s wounds began pouring from the gaping slash marks in Zigdan’s body.
    He was dying, he was losing too much blood but amazingly the drug kept the irken male going, kept forcing himself onto her and kept biting and tearing at her. Sirra was still having a great time, but she could feel the end coming soon and she raised her knife above Zigdans back.
    Then she froze.
    Standing at the doorway, frozen in shock and terror, eyes locked onto the bloody and horrible sight, was a female irken. Her eyes where huge and red and she was of a good shape, but heavier looking then Sirra and she was wearing a striped black and white dress.
    Her and Sirra’s eyes locked and Sirra instantly knew that she was caught. This was it, she was finished, done, she’d be captured and executed.
    And suddenly, Sirra burst out laughing. She had no idea why, but she was laughing. The girl did nothing and Sirra kept laughing. It was the look, the same shocked, stunned and horrified look that reminded Sirra of a small vermin creature before she stamped on it. It looked so wrong on this girls face, like it was painted on. And Sirra couldn’t stop laughing at it.
    Then she plunged the knife into Zigdans back, just as he arched up howling like an animal. However, his howl turned into horrible scream of pure pain and blood poured from his mouth and back as well as from the many cuts and slices Sirra had already delivered onto him.
    The girl finally snapped and screamed so loud it even went over the music. Sirra would have winced if she wasn’t so busy trying to push Zigdan’s dead weight of her, but the blood was making it hard to get a good grip on him. She was also aching all over from her cuts, not to mention she’d just been raped, even if it was something she’d thoroughly enjoyed.
    The girl staggered back and screamed again, amazingly even louder. Sirra felt like shouting at her to shut up but she wanted to find what was left of her top. She looked around as she pulled her skirt back up, wincing a little at the ache, but enjoying the general tingling sensation of the blood and pain that was all over her body. She was also enjoying the smell of a fresh kill and the feel of inner satisfaction from obeying her primal killing instinct.
    She managed to find her top, which was now ripped. She sighed in annoyance, ignoring the silence of the music and the sound of mass screaming and panicking outside the room. Her favourite top was ruined.
    “Great,” she murmured as she heard the sound of sirens coming in the background, “I’m going to be caught and I’ll look like a tramp who can’t afford clothes.”
    She couldn’t help but be surprised at the swiftness of the response time though, she figured they must have been watching the place anyway. As she tired her halter top back on, making sure it fit her again, she sighed and stood up, picking up the chair and lowering herself slowly onto it, her body still hurt from being assaulted and raped.
    Looking up at the ceiling she wondered what would happen to her. She’d probably be executed, yet, that feeling of meeting that special someone hadn’t died. In fact, it was assuring her that she would live through this, that she’d one day meet the one she so highly lusted after.
    The sounds of troopers entering the hall were heard, and people began shouting and screaming and generally trying to get as far away from her as possible. She blinked, her arms lying at her sides feeling the slightly tickling feeling of blood and gore dripping off her.
    For some reason, she was actually looking forward to being captured. She smiled; at least she’ll be getting off this planet, and for free! She’ll have a first class trip to her trial, probably fed a better meal then she could cook anyway and get her own personal bodyguards. The police burst into the room, flashing lights into her eyes and shouting for her to stay still and get down and drop her weapons. She looked to the policeirk facing her, squinting and frowning.
    She then said the only thing that could come to her mind at the time. “Well it took you long enough!”

                                                         *********

    At her trial, she discovered that she was apparently something of a celebrity. Everyone wanted to take her picture and all the reporters kept shouting questions at her. She took to chance to try and pose as much as possible with the police dragging her into the courtroom.
    And then she’d had the best news that anyone had ever delivered to her. She was to be placed indefinitely in the highest guarded wing of the maximum security prison-asylum of Skitzatos Seven.
    Along side all her favourite lust objects.
    She’d cheered for joy at the sentencing and had been rather eager to get to her cell. The faster she got there the faster she’d get to meet all her fellow sadists, rapists and murderers.
    She now sat inside her cell, mouth-guard and straightjacket clamped onto her. She didn’t like the clothes in asylum, they where a bit too uniform for her tastes, but this was the cost she’d have to pay to talk with her hero’s then so be it.
    She was rather enjoying her new cell, it was so clean and tidy she’d almost forgotten what white looked like. Everything was so soft and cushiony, plus she knew she’d never have to clean it. She got three meals a day, all cooked by someone else, and she was about to get a visit from her newly assigned doctor, whom she knew was a male, which made things even better. The door of her almost blindingly white cell suddenly swished open and Sirra’s eyes widened.
    In walked the oddest looking irken she’d ever seen. He was short, only just coming to Sirra’s neck, and his eyes where covered by a pair of dark brown goggles. He seemed a tad overweight and his skin was of a deep green. His grey-tinged antennae seemed to flicker every few moments along with a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was wearing a buttoned up white doctors coat, black pants and black boots.
    The smell of old, almost exotic smoke hit Sirra like a blast and she instantly learned that he was a smoker.
    The irken looked at Sirra and slowly frowned then looked to the notepad he held in his hands. “Ahh, it iz zee zadomazokhizt, Zirra, yaa?”
    Sirra couldn’t believe his accent was real and she started laughing in response.
    The irken frowned and barked, “Zhut up!” Which Sirra only did out of shock, she hadn’t been shouted at like that since conscription training.
    She frowned at the doctor but before she could speak he marched over to the one table and sat down on a chair opposite her. “My name is Doktor Greep and I vill be your pzykhiatrizt from now on.” He locked her with a stern look. “Underztand?”
     Sirra grinned. “I love a guy who can order me around.”
     The doctor twitched but then sighed in annoyance, “I kan zee vee have a lot of work to do.”