# Bruisella (6697 words) A swear word or two



## MadMickyG (Jul 8, 2017)

This is a 'Get to Know Them' story I wrote regarding one of the people in the Captain and Commander story. I wrote some back stories for 4 of the six ladies, so people would understand where they were coming from.

*Bruisella*

It was a such a fun Saturday for Ella Gould as she sat hunched, panting heavily on the basketball court.  Sweat covered her entire body, dripping down her arms and face, leaving small puddles on the ground.  The light shirt she wore was drenched, sticking to her skin.  Despite the ache throughout her athletic body, she grinned, thoroughly enjoying the battle she was winning against the five boys that had challenged her for the court. She watched them in their huddle, their sweaty smell carried to her on the small breeze. She watched them as they whispered amongst themselves, an occasional scowling glance at her as they discussed whatever strategy they were planning. Ella’s grin widened. Clearly, they weren’t having as much fun as she was.

“Ready for the next round?” Ella asked, standing up.  She took a few more deep breaths, then walked over to the boys.  “Let’s make it two on one this time, to keep it fair.”  The five boys snorted derisively, but the two tallest walked toward Ella, shrugging their shoulders and rotating their arms.  

Ella stood in the centre of the court as one of the boys tossed the ball to her, as the two spread out in front of her.  She dribbled the ball for a moment, swaying her body from side to side, judging each of the boys as they stood arms and legs spread in a guard position.  She charged, heading between the two, as they closed in to block her, she pivoted on her right foot, twisting right.  As she knew he would, the boy on that side stepped to block her.  She started to pivot back the other way, seeing the weight on the boy’s legs shift as he followed her.  She bounced the ball forward with her right hand, while continuing her left pivot.  She launched herself forward, squeezing between the two as their closing of the gap stopped when they realised she had bounced the ball on the opposite side.  They chased it with Ella, but her body’s momentum allowed her to reach it first.  She grabbed it in mid stride, dribbling it down the court, jumping in the air as she lifted the ball up.  It hit the backboard, then bounced in to the hoop.  Ella landed lightly, turning to look at the scowling faces of her opponents.

“That’s two to me,” she laughed.  She grabbed the ball and passed it to the boy in front.  The two walked back to the line, whispering as they turned.  Ella moved closer, watching them as they prepared themselves.  As they charged, bouncing and passing the ball between them, Ella moved quickly between them, guarding whoever had the ball.  They towered over her by a good foot and a half, so they passed high in the air.  But Ella knew they would think they were safe passing this way.  She leapt at the right moment, touching the ball.  She didn’t get a full hand on it, but it never reached the boy behind her.  She ran forward, collecting the ball as it came down.  She saw the other boy charging in, shoulder forward.  She met him side on, his shoulder just missing the side of her face.  She twisted around, looking at both of them defiantly as she moved toward the free throw line.  She stopped on the line, lifting her arms as she readied her shot.  She smirked over her shoulder at the two boys as she threw the ball.  She knew the feel of a good shot, but the look on the boy’s faces confirmed the shot was on the mark. She turned back and moved to catch the ball on the rebound.  She spun around, heading for the halfway line again.

“Maybe you need three?” she asked.  Another boy joined the two already on the court.  Ella turned to face the basket.  They huddled for a moment, whispering to each other.  One of the boys shook his head at something.  The other two glared at him.  He dropped his head, apparently conceding to the other two.  They turned around and faced Ella, spreading out.

“Ready?” she asked.  The three boys nodded, a smile on two of the three faces. The third, the boy who’d shaken his head, didn’t look happy.  Ella started dribbling the ball, knowing it would not be as easy to pass the three of them.  But she did.  As she passed the unhappy boy on his right, something struck her in the ankle.  Her foot landed wrong as she ran, her ankle rolling as it touched the ground.  Ella crashed to the ground, rolling over once or twice.  She’d dropped the ball, which one of the other boys had picked up and dunked.  Ella held her ankle, already showing signs of starting to swell.  She looked up at the boy that had kicked her foot, but he could not look her in the eye.

“I’d say that takes you out of the game,” the boy that had just dunked said, standing over the top of her.  The two tall boys high-fived in triumph.  Ella tried to stand, but couldn’t put weight on her foot.  None of the boys offered to help her.  She managed to stand, all her weight on one leg.  She hopped over to the bench, sitting down to rest her now fully swollen ankle.  She was a little pissed at them for playing dirty.  But she knew it would happen eventually.  The unhappy boy headed over to the other two on the side lines, who were laughing softly at her.  They patted him on the back.  The two on the court collected the ball.  They motioned the others back over.  As they walked passed Ella, the one that had kicked her came close.

“Sorry Ella,” he whispered, not loud enough for the others to hear, before they all gathered on the court to continue the game they had been playing.  Ella watched them for a moment, before grabbing the small bag with her keys and phone.  She stood up and hopped over to the fence.  She shimmied down to the small opening in the fence, heading to her car.  It took some time before a passer-by stopped to assist her, helping her to the car.  She thanked the man for his help.  It was tricky for Ella to drive home, but she managed.  The pain in her ankle was bad, but she made if from the car to her apartment well enough.  First thing she did was turn on the air-conditioner.  Then she grabbed some aspirin from the box on top of the fridge.  Grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge, she followed the aspirin with a mouthful of water.  She limped and hopped through her apartment to the bathroom, removing her clothes as she went.  She had a cool shower, washing the sweat from her body.  

While she was shampooing and conditioning her hair, she felt pain building in her her good leg. A side effect of taking all the weight with her bad ankle. She turned off the taps and literally hopped out of the shower. She felt like a circus act, balancing on one leg as she dried herself.  She stood in front of the mirror for a moment, adjusting her hair. While she was looking at herself, she couldn't help but admire her physique.  She knew it took hard work to look this good.  But she'd always enjoyed the work, the cardio and the weights. Not to mention the box-fit and fighting-fit classes she did. They always kept her body well-toned.  

She smiled as she turned, moving slowly from the bathroom to her bedroom to put on some clothes, before returning to the small lounge room.   She grabbed the cushion on the chair, placing it under her swollen ankle as she sat down, tipping it back in to it's reclining position.  She closed her eyes, listening to the hum of the air conditioner.  Despite the throbbing pain in her ankle, Ella fell asleep.

  Ella awoke to darkness. She looked around in a panic, forgetting where she was for a brief moment. Her heart slowed to normal when she saw the familiar illuminated clock on her TV unit.

“I’m home,” she thought, noting it was just after 9 pm.  She remembered the throbbing in her foot, as the pain pulsed, but it seemed to encompass her entire leg.  She couldn't reach the lamp from the chair, so she grabbed the TV remote and flicked it on. It came to life, throwing light around the room. Ella gasped when she looked at her leg. Not only was her ankle swollen, but her entire leg had quadrupled in size, all the way up to her hip.  She touched it, wincing in pain as her felt the soft and squishy skin under her fingers. The skin was pockmarked with bruising all the way up.

She stretched out sideways as far as she could without moving her leg, using the TV remote to reach her bag.  She dug furiously through her bag, calling for an ambulance as soon as she found her phone. She stuttered and stammered her way through the call, her eyes never leaving her massive leg. After a few questions, the lady on the other end said an ambulance was on its’ way.  Ella hung up and called her friend Trina.  After a moment of Trina trying to gossip about some girls, Ella finally got through that Ella was waiting for an ambulance, but she couldn’t open the door.

“I’ll be five minutes,” Trina blurted.  Ella heard her telling some people she had to go as she hung up the phone.  She waited frantically until she heard keys.  Trina opened the door, flicking the light on as she closed the door.   Ella winced as the bright lights hit her in the eyes.

“Damn girl,” Trina said loudly, “what happened to you?”  Ella was about to explain her accident playing basketball, when she saw her arms.  They were completely covered in small bruises.  She lifted her shirt to reveal the same tiny bruises all over her stomach.  There was a knock at the door.  Trina looked through the peep hole, opening the door when she saw the paramedics outside.  She pointed to Ella.  

“Whoa,” one said as he approached, “what happened to you?”  Ella explained the accident playing basketball, her coming home and taking aspirin and falling asleep, then waking up to how she looked.  The paramedics took her temperature, blood pressure and checked her eyes, ears and throat.

“Looks like you’re coming for a ride,” said the dark haired paramedic.  They brought in the gurney, carefully placing Ella upon it.  They pushed her out through the door, skilfully navigating the thin hallway in the apartment block like race car drivers, until they were outside.  Parked out the front, lights flashing, was the waiting ambulance.  

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Trina called out, waving as she leaned out of the window of Ella’s apartment.


 Ella spent the entire ambulance ride chatting with the two paramedics about her sport hobbies and fitness regime. 

Before she knew it, she was sitting in a bed in the hospital.  It took a while for a doctor to arrive though, a group of trainee doctors trailing him.  They examined her swollen leg and the bruises covering her body.  The trainer asked some questions, then they left.  Half an hour later, a nurse came and took some blood.  She wasn’t very talkative though.  She was friendly, but appeared to have lots to do, so couldn’t stay and chat.  She did stop by and drop off some magazines for Ella to read.  Ella flipped through the pages, skimming over the celebrity news.  She checked out any sports articles.  She looked at the recipes, calculating the total calories and whether it would be worth eating.  Either from whatever was causing her condition, or more likely total boredom, Ella fell asleep again.

  Ella felt someone patting her on the shoulder.  She opened her eyes, remembering she was in the hospital.  She sat up, wincing in pain.  She could see the bruising on her arms hadn’t improved.  She pulled the blanket back, to check her leg.  She cursed, looking at not one, but two swollen legs.

“Oh my god!” she cried out alarmingly, bursting in to tears.  A nurse came through the curtain, to check on the noise.  She took a quick look at the chart.

“It’s okay,” she said to Ella, “you’ll be fine.”

“How does a twisted ankle become this?” Ella shouted, pointing at her legs.

“Have you had blood taken?” the nurse asked.  

“Uh-huh,” Ella replied, wiping the tears from her eyes.  The nurse smiled, having a quick look at the chart again.

“I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on.”  The nurse smiled, then vanished through the curtain.  Ella calmed herself down.  She saw one of her overnight bags sitting on the chair next to the hospital bed.  Carefully she reached over, leaning out.  She grabbed the bag and lifted it on to the bed.  Inside was her phone, house keys, a few of her sport magazines, some clothes, two sets of pyjamas and a folded piece of paper.  Ella opened the folded paper.  It was a note from Trina, scribbled in her friend’s messy handwriting.  Trina had grabbed some clothes for her, plus her phone and other things when Ella left in the ambulance.  The note said by the time Trina got to the hospital, visiting hours were over and they wouldn’t let her in to see Ella.  But the nurses at least took the bag.  Trina said she would let everyone know where Ella was, so just rest.  Trina would be in as soon as she could.  Ella checked the time, hoping Trina would be visit soon. 

Time passed slowly in the hospital bed for Ella. She read the four magazines from her bag twice each, cover to cover.  Her phone had managed to go flat while she was asleep.  She rummaged through the bag, but found no charger.  She laughed to herself as she placed her expensive paper weight on the shelf next to the bed.  

Another hour or so passed before anybody came to see her.  It wasn’t Trina, as Ella had hoped, but three doctors and a nurse.  They looked serious as they gathered around the bed, the nurse circling the curtain closed.  Each of the doctors held a clipboard, with an image Ella couldn’t quite make out.  By their expressions, Ella guessed the news they had mustn’t be good.  

After they explained what had been found in the preliminary blood test, more than once they noted, a problem had been discovered.  They advised her it was confirmed, but would require a few more tests to one hundred percent sure.  Ella just looked at their calm, expressionless faces as they talked, not quite taking in what they were saying.

“So what’s wrong with me?” she asked, wanting to cut out the long medical words they used.

“From the blood test,” one of the doctors replied, “is a fairly aggressive form of idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura.”

“Idio-what?” Ella asked, sure this doctor was speaking a different language.  The doctor moved closer to the bed.

“Idio-pathic thrombo-cytopenic purpura.  It’s a blood disease.  There are platelets in your blood that stop cuts bleeding continuously.”

“They help with healing the wound as well,” one of the other doctors chimed in.

“But in your blood, it seems the platelets are being destroyed by your immune system.”

“How did I get this ‘blood disease’?”  Ella asked.

“Could be any number of ways.  Could be genetic.”

“Sometimes something simple, like aspirin, or ibuprofen, could trigger it.  Antibiotics like penicillin, or malaria treatments have caused it.  There are some party drugs that might bring it on as well.”  Ella thought back.  She’d had the aspirin for her twisted ankle.  That may have done it.  But there was that party she’d gone to with Trina and a few others.  They’d made a serious punch for people to drink.  The rumour was there was more than just alcohol in it.  Ella only had two cups, before she heard the rumour.  That was when she’d stopped.  That party was months ago though.  Surely, she would’ve had symptoms well before now.

“Is there any treatment for it?” Ella asked.  The doctors all shook their heads.

“Normally,” one of the doctors said, “there are treatments.  Or it can pass on its’ own.”

“That’s great,” Ella chirped, happy she wouldn’t be like this forever.  The look on the faces of the doctors made her frown.

“But yours is the aggressive type.  Normally this one shows in the first few years of life, the child not living past the age of two. “

“So I’ve got two years left?” Ella gasped.  

“Probably less I’m afraid.  From what we’ve seen, it’s more than likely a year at the most.”  Ellas’ jaw fell open.  From a twisted ankle to less than a year to live.  Life totally sucked right now.

“Hey Ella!” a voice called out, “where you at girl?”  The curtain started to move, then Trinas’ bright smile appeared.  She looked at the doctors and nurse, seeing their sombre faces.

“Damn girl, who died?” Trina asked, pushing past the doctors to walk over and hug Ella.  

“Apparently, it’s going to be me.”


  Ella woke slowly, looking over at the time.  Almost 5am.  The pain was going to be bad today if how the deep ache she felt now was any indication.  She stood slowly, groaning as her body protested movement.  She grabbed the walking brace next to her bed.  She hobbled like an old lady, out to the kitchen to grab the medicine they had her taking.  She’d been home a few months now.  She put on a bit of weight not being able to exercise, but still looked in good shape despite her condition.  The medication she was taking had reduced the swelling down, but her body was still covered in little bruises.  And she ached all over, all the time.   

After taking her medication, she waddled back to her chair, easing herself down slowly.  It hurt too much to go back to bed.  If she didn’t need to keep the medication in the fridge, she’d have it next to her bed.  Or maybe she needed a little bar fridge in her bedroom.  She thought about how she could get a bar fridge in to her room as she grabbed the remote and turned on the television.  

She found a channel that was running news stories.  There was something on about those two super heroes in the city of Cabran, having a massive fight with yet another bad guy.  There were bad guys, and girls, appearing all the time now.  Why was it people went crazy when they got super powers?  Ella knew she would never get like that.  She only half watched the story, starting to doze as the medication kicked in.  She caught a glimpse of the giant man the two heroes had fought.  He looked about seven feet tall, with arms as thick as her waist.  She didn’t hear the ridiculous name the media had called him, but she was sure it was as silly as all the others.  Her eyes lost focus as the pain subsided completely.  Another side effect of the medication.  In a moment she was asleep.


  Ella woke to the sound of banging on her door.  It took her a moment to wake up.  The banging sound repeated.

“Ella, let me in!” Trinas’ panicked voice called out from the other side of the door.  Ella grabbed her walking brace, lifting herself up and out of her chair.  Trina continued to knock frantically.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said as he got closer to the door.  She grabbed the handle and opened the door, Trina almost knocking her over as she dashed inside, slamming the door behind her.  She pressed her back to it, closing her eyes as she heaved a great sigh.

“What the hell?” Ella said through clenched teeth as she rode the wave of pain washing over her from the movement. “Why didn’t you use your key?”.  Trina opened her eyes.  

“Sorry girl,” Trina said as she stepped away from the door, “I don’t have my full key set on me.  Just my emergency set.”  Trina moved over to one of the chairs in front of the television.  She motioned for Ella to come sit down.  “I got you something girl, something special.”  Ella made her way over to her chair, easing herself down.  Trina reached in to her jacket pocket.  She held her hand in there for a moment.

“I was at a party last night,” she started, her voice dropping low for no apparent reason, “with Olive and Berry.  There was this guy there, selling some heavy shit.  I heard him telling someone about this new drug he had.  It was like a super cure-all or something.”  Ellas’ ears perked up at the word ‘cure-all’.  

“And it can give you super powers like all those people on the news,” Trina whispered, leaning closer as she spoke, her voice dropping even lower.

“How much?” Ella asked.  The look on Trinas’ face had Ella worried.

“How much?” she asked again.

“About ten grand,” Trina said.

“Fuck me!” Ella swore before she could catch herself.  “Where’d you get ten thousand from?”

“That’s just it,” Trina whispered, “I didn’t buy it.  I stole it.” 

“Trina!”  Ella exploded, not believing what she’d just heard.  Everyone knew you didn’t steal from dealers.  It had a way of severely shortening your lifespan. 

Trina pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding a small bag of orange powder.  Ella held out her bruise-covered hand. 

“This will cure me AND give me super powers?” she asked as Trina dropped it in to her open hand.

“I think the super powers thing is bullshit.  But I heard a few people talking about it curing all kindsa’ problems they had.  That stuff, I do believe.”   Ella felt the weight of it in her hand.  It felt quite heavy, for such a small amount.

“How do I take it?” Ella asked.  

“You could swallow it I guess,” Trina replied, “or shoot it up maybe.”

“No needles in these arms!” Ella said sternly.  She stood up, using her walking brace for support.  Trina stood up also, helping Ella to the kitchen, where she filled a glass of water and poured in the orange powder.  She used her finger to stir the powder until it dissolved.  She licked her finger, then made the ugliest face.

“Gark!” Ella gasped, “that’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted.”  She looked at Trina who, despite the seriousness of the situation could not help but laugh at her friend's reaction to tasting the liquid. The two shared a tiny moment of normalcy. 

Ella wanted so much for this to get her back to her normal self.  She knew Trina wanted that for her too, having stolen it from a drug dealer. 

Pinching her nose, Ella downed the drink in one go. She held the last little bit in her mouth as she fought the urge to gag.  It took all her strength to swallow the foul-tasting liquid. If she had been able-bodied, Ella knew she’d be running around the room, cursing and swearing at the disgusting liquid she just swallowed.

“I should’ve used less water’” she coughed as she looked at Trina.

“Any idea how long this takes to work?” Ella grimaced, as the overwhelming urge to bring everything back up made her stomach muscles twitch painfully.

“Not a clue.”  The two looked at each other awkwardly for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen.

“Guess I’ll just carry on until something happens,” Ella said. With Trina’s help, she went back to her chair.

“Can I hang here for a bit?” Trina asked.  “I don’t think the guy knew me, but he might ask around.  I don’t want to risk him finding me if he finds out I took it.”

“Sure, you can stay.”

“Thanks.”  Trina sat down, reclining the chair back like Ella had just done.  They flicked stations until they found something not completely boring.  Neither knew how long it would take for the drug to kick in, if it actually worked.  Ella was praying that this would fix her problem.


  Four days later, Ella woke to find her legs no longer swollen. Her skin was still covered in bruises, but at least it didn’t hurt to move.  She excitedly called Trina, who’d gone back to her apartment two days ago. 

“I think it worked!” Ella squealed excitedly, “I don’t hurt...at all.”

“Awesome girl,” Trina said happily.  “Think you can make a trip over here?”

“Sure.  Give me a few minutes.”  Ella couldn’t stop moving, so happy she could do things without pain and agony accompanying each movement.  

She got dressed in record time and, grabbing her bag on the way, headed out the door.  


It was only a fifteen-minute drive to Trina’s place.  Ella got out of the car and was heading towards the stairs that lead up to Trina’s apartment, when a voice called out.

‘Wow Ella,” a familiar voice called out, “what happened to you?”  Ella turned, seeing three of the boys from the basketball court when her condition had started.  They walked over to her, staring at her.

“You look like you been fighting or something,” one of the boys said.

“Yeah,” one of the others added, “and got all beat up.”  

“Whatever,” Ella laughed, turning to go up the stairs.

“Haha, they should call you Bruise-Ella,” the comedian of the three laughed, “like Cinder-Ella, except covered in bruises instead of cinders.”

“Big fan of Disney princesses?” Ella chuckled as she headed up the stairs.  She heard the other two start making fun of the comedian as she climbed the three flights.  She was exhausted when she reached the top.

“I’m so out of shape!” she thought.  She walked along the balcony until she came to Trina's door, her body tensing as she realised the door was slightly ajar, the wood around the handle and locking mechanism was broken. Her body tensed as pushed the door open slowly.  Inside, the place was trashed, everything inside torn up or broken.  Ella entered carefully, her senses alert for anything. She called out for Trina, her mind racing with so many possibilities of what happened. Nothing, no response. She moved cautiously through the apartment, but Trina was not here.  Ella was worried.  She called Trina’s phone.

“Hello?” a male voice answered.

“Where’s Trina?” Ella asked.

“Who’s this?” the voice requested, ignoring Ella’s question about Trina.

“I’m Ella.  Where’s Trin….”

“I want it back,” the voice interrupted, “I will meet you at her place in one hour.”  The person hung up the phone.  Ella's heart pounded in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears. She looked at her phone, an app leaping out to grab her attention.

"Of course!" Ella slapped her forehead as she remembered the Friend Tracker app both she and Trina had added to their phones. She opened it, selecting Trina as a contact. It took a moment, then opened a street directory.  A red pin indicated where Trina’s phone was last detected.

“Got you!” Ella chirped excitedly. She called the police. She gave them details about Trina being kidnapped from her apartment by a guy they think was a drug dealer.  She gave the woman on the phone the address the app had displayed.  

“Please stay where you are ma'am, and we'll send a car to your location. Another car has already been dispatched to the second location.  Would you like to stay on the line?”

“No,” Ella said after a moment, “in case the man calls back.”

“If he does, please call us straight away,” the police woman said.

“I will,” Ella replied and ended the call.  With nothing else to do, she sat down and waited.


When the police burst in to Trina’s apartment, Ella jumped.  She'd been sitting staring at her phone so intensely, she didn’t hear them.

“Ella?” one of the policeman asked.  Ella nodded.

“Can we some identification please?”  Ella grabbed her driver’s license out of her bag, holding it up for the officer to see.  He looked at it for a moment, then nodded his head.  They motioned for her to follow them out to the car.  The three boys were sitting down on a bench seat, arguing over who was the hottest Disney princesses.  They stopped as the police passed them again, Ella following them.

“What’d ya do Bruise-Ella?” the comedian laughed.  The policemen stopped, turning to look at the three boys.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” the officer closest to them asked.  

“Probably,” the comedian answered smugly, defiant in the face of the police.  The officer took another step forward when the other office near the car heard some chatter on the radio.  He called out, indicating they needed to go.

“Are you fine to wait here?” he asked Ella as he ran to the car.  

“What’s going on?” Ella asked nervously.

“Someone at the address you gave has made a break for it in a vehicle. We’re needed to assist in the pursuit.”

“I’ll be fine here.  Everyone else was caught, right?”

“Yes,” the officer called out as he climbed in the car.  Winding down and the windows, the office called out “Wait in the apartment, we will send another car over.  Back soon.”  The police car took off, lights flashing.  Ella headed back up to Trina’s apartment.  The boys harassed her some more, calling her Bruise-Ella a few more times, but she barely registered them.  She was far too worried about Trina.  

She climbed the stairs slowly this time, but was still out of breath when she got to the top.  She walked along and in to Trina’s apartment.  Someone grabbed her by her short hair, pulling her around.  She heard the door slam shut, then felt something hit her across her back.  As she stumbled forward, she was surprised it didn’t hurt as much as it should have.

“Where’s my stuff bitch?” a familiar male voice asked.  Before she could answer, she felt something hit her in the shoulder.  This time, she didn’t move.  She felt the pressure of whatever hit her, but again there was no pain to it.  She stood up straight and turned around.  She did not recognise the face of the man in front of her, but she knew his voice.  He had Trina not too long ago.  In his right hand was a metal rod, his arm flexed and ready to swing again.

“You mean that orange stuff that tasted worse than horse shit?” Ella said defiantly.  The man swung the metal rod, aiming at her shoulder.  Ella grabbed it, wrenching it from his hand.  He swung a punch, hitting Ella square on the jaw.  She stood there looking at him, puzzled.  He looked strong, well built. Certainly someone that should pack a punch.  But Ella felt nothing.  He swung again, his shoulder dipping as he put all his body weight in to it.

Even though Ella was out of shape, all the fighting-fit classes she'd done, all the combat training she'd endured, kicked in instinctively. She grabbed his hand mid-punch planning to redirect it away from her face, but her force stopped his momentum completely. His eyes opened wide in confusion as a woman at least half his size, stopped his punch. 

Ella's face contorted in anger as she squeezed his fist, feeling the bones pop under the skin. He cried out.

“Where’s Trina?” she asked menacingly.  She bent his fist upwards, pushing it forward, forcing him to the floor.

“You can’t help her,” he grunted in pain.

“Oh really.”  She squeezed harder, feeling more bones crunch in his hand.  He screamed as she continued to squeeze.  “Why’s that?”

“She’s already dead, you stupid bitch!”  Ella let go of his hand, swaying on her feet, her mind reeling in shock with the news Trina was dead.

“No,” she said. “NO!”  He stood up cradling his broken hand, laughing at her. Ella grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him completely off the ground.  She strode forward furiously, slamming him in to the painted brick wall.  She barely registered the bricks shift from the impact.  She glared at him, wanting to ask him what he’d done, but he’d been knocked out.  She dropped him. 

Trina, dead.  How?  Why?  She looked at the man, laying like a stuffed toy tossed on the floor. She squeezed her fists tightly, anger washing over her as she realised that her best friend was dead because of her. If Trina hadn't stolen that drug from the pathetic thing on the floor, she'd still be alive.  

She calmed herself as best she could. She looked down at him, rationalising it would be perfectly fine to put him through the wall.  

All Trina had done was help her, and this scumbag had killed her for it.  For a drug, a stupid drug. For an instant, time stopped. Then for Bruisella, everything registered at once.  She looked at her hand, then the wall.  She saw the impact his body made when she slammed him in to the bricks.  She looked at her hand again, opening and closing it. 

She bent down and rummaged through the unconscious man’s pockets, finding a phone, a wallet and some keys.  She checked the phone. Not locked. Stupid for a guy like him. Or maybe it was arrogance.  

She checked his call list, saw quite a few names.  She grabbed her phone and took photos of the all names.  She had to pay some people a visit. 

Ella crushed his phone in her hand, amazed that she felt like she was crumpling a piece of paper.  She stormed out of Trina’s apartment, planning to talk with a few of the drug dealer’s friends. She strode down the stairs, then along the path to her car.  The three boys from earlier were not on the seat, but leaning on her car.

“Where you off to Ella?” one asked, blocking her access to the driver's side door.  Ella stopped in front of him, smiling as she looked up in to his face. The cheeky grin he wore changed to surprise when she grabbed his hips and lifted him up off the ground.  She twisted and placed him behind her.  The other two boys had been approaching from the sides, but stopped, their faces wide in amazement.

She looked at each of them, smiling as she climbed in to her car.  As she sat down and closed the door, she wound down the window.  She reversed out to head back to her house to do some packing. She stopped the car for a moment, smiling wickedly as she looked at the three boys.

“And boy’s,” she winked, “the name’s Bruisella!” Without waiting to see their reaction, she drove off laughing.


It’d been six months since Bruisella found and punished all the men involved in Trina’s death. She felt some satisfaction that justice had been done, although as much as she wanted to, she’d refrained from killing any of them. Even though they all deserved it. The last few had really pushed her too, especially that one guy that wouldn't stop mouthing off at her. She could still remember his expression though, when he finally shut up when she lifted the car over his head to drop on him like she'd threatened. He'd only shut his mouth when she actually lifted the car off the ground.

But once that was all done, Bruisella was left with a hole inside her. With Trina properly avenged, she didn't know what to do with herself. Her new abilities made her old job feel like a waste of time. That was why she spent so much time in her car at the beach, just listening to the radio. She was looking for direction, somewhere to focus herself.

It annoyed her that there were so many reports nowadays of super-powered battles, with phenomenally strong people on both sides, waging a war on each other. If they were good, casualties were minimal. If they were out for themselves, they took down anyone and everyone in their way. There were far too many of those types out there. 

Bruisella wasn't concerned about which side they were on, she just hated the fact that normal people were always the victims, the collateral damage in the epic battles. 

After listening to another battle on the radio, being commentated on from a reporter in a helicopter, Bruisella knew what she wanted to do. 

No, not wanted to do, needed to do. Nodding her head, she started her car. Her new mission, she’d decided, was to teach the strong that they were not the strongest, not anymore. She would be the voice for everyday people, letting the powerful know they were being watched.

Bruisella recalled hearing where one of the stronger ones, someone called Thunderman, was spending plenty of time. Something about a super-powered cage matches.

After stopping to fill up with fuel for the long drive, Bruisella hit the highway. He would be the first to learn he wasn’t as strong as he thought. 



 Bruisella sat on the bench under the pergola, surrounded by fields of green, waiting. She'd been through so many heroes and villains recently, proving to them all she was the strongest. Now, she sat nervously, brimming with excitement. She was waiting for the strongest hero, the behemoth everyone called the Block. He’d secretly arranged to meet her away from any populated areas for the fight she wanted. Something no one else had bothered to do. She admired him for that. At least he was aware of the damage a fight could cause in a more populated location. 

Her eyes flicked from road to road, waiting for a vehicle to appear.

When her body involuntarily jumped off the bench a few inches the same time she heard a tremendous thud, she realised he wasn't coming by car. She turned, looking at the eight-foot wall of muscle walking out of a small crater, he'd obviously just created, toward her. She looked at him, admiring his physique. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, young lady?” he asked, his deep voice booming. Bruisella smiled, standing up, rotating her shoulders and flexing her muscles.
“More than anything big man,” she chuckled. “You all need to know that you’re not the top of the food chain.”

“From what I’ve heard,” the Block said, holding his hand up to stop Bruisella from charging in straight away, “you’ve certainly put us in our place. If I’m to understand correctly, you’ve beaten Thunderman, the Hawk brothers, Mr Fist, Kuramasa and that demon-thing that was hiding in New Zealand.”

“That’s some of them,” Bruisella said proudly. The Block smiled down at her, nodding his head in approval.
“You’d make a great hero,” he said.

“Too many heroes, too many villains,” Bruisella said matter-of-factly, “consider me the referee. I’ll call a penalty on anyone that gets out of line.” 

“Fair enough,” the Block rumbled, his voice like a thunderstorm. “So, do you think you have a chance against me?”

“Better than a chance I think. Shall we begin?” Bruisella licked her lips as she punched her right hand in to her left palm. The Block nodded, then charged, covering the distance between them quickly with his massive stride. The smile on Bruisella’s face couldn’t have gotten any wider as the two combatants both swung their fists at the other.

Bruisella stood over the Block. She was panting, rubbing her arms as she looked at him on the ground.

“That was fun,” she said, “maybe you can have another go another time.” The Block groaned, slowly sitting up.

“Yeah, sure,” he said half-heartedly. He managed to get to his feet, towering over Bruisella. He looked down at her for a moment.

“You sure you don’t want to be a hero?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Us referees want to keep it fair, for the crowd. Consider yourself benched, so to speak.” The Block shrugged his monstrous shoulders as he shook his head.

“Pity,” he said, “you’d be such an asset. So, what now?”

“Well,” Bruisella said, “I guess I’ll monitor you all and keep you all in line. Now that I’ve beaten the strongest.” 

“Hahaha,” the Block laughed, “sorry to disappoint you, young lady, but I’m not the strongest. Well, physically I am. But there is definitely a tougher person out there than me.”

“Oh really,” Bruisella said, her eyebrow raised sceptically. “What’s his name?” The Block took a few steps, then leapt in to the air. Just before he took off, he said a name. 

Bruisella watched as the huge man flew off, knowing it wasn’t his massive muscles that gave the him flight, if it even was flight. She'd heard he had limited telekinetic ability, only ever using it to carry himself through the air, smoothly enough for most people to think he was flying. She liked him. But she had to stay impartial, for everyone's sake.

Bruisella stood for a moment, trying to remember the name the Block had said as he took off in to the air. She was pretty sure he had said “The Captain”.


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## The Fantastical (Jul 8, 2017)

This is a good short story overall but there are a number of questions that are left unanswered and a few far to convenient events. There are also just a few other issues, a few of which I will point out below. The whole piece could also be tightened up and trimmed to be a lean and fit as Ella. 



> It was a such a fun Saturday for Ella Gould as she sat hunched, panting heavily on the basketball court.



While there isn't anything wrong with this exactly there is the issue of... well the word "hunched" just does not go with "fun". The emotional and physical connotations that go with the word "hunched" just are all uncomfortable of painful ones and just don't go with the idea that she is having a fun day out. 



> Sweat covered her entire body, dripping down her arms and face, leaving small puddles on the ground.



This is just... ew. That is also all it adds to the scene, so maybe leave it out. 



> “Ready for the next round?” Ella asked, standing up. She took a few more deep breaths, then walked over to the boys. “Let’s make it two on one this time, to keep it fair.” The five boys snorted derisively, but the two tallest walked toward Ella, shrugging their shoulders and rotating their arms.



Take this section as an example, you could easily cut _"She took a few more deep breaths"_ and _"shrugging their shoulders and rotating their arms." _out and be left with a good feel for the scene. Moments like that can weigh down a piece. Try and keep the movie like descriptions out and put in more open and light instead. Give the reader the shape of the event not every drop of sweat. There are a number of places like this throughout but I am not going to point them all out rather I am going to constraint on the bigger issues . 



> While she was shampooing and conditioning her hair, she felt pain building in her her good leg. A side effect of taking all the weight with her bad ankle. She turned off the taps and literally hopped out of the shower. She felt like a circus act, balancing on one leg as she dried herself. She stood in front of the mirror for a moment, adjusting her hair. While she was looking at herself, she couldn't help but admire her physique. She knew it took hard work to look this good. But she'd always enjoyed the work, the cardio and the weights. Not to mention the box-fit and fighting-fit classes she did. They always kept her body well-toned.



I have a question about what she does... the whole opening and the above paragraph tells us that Ella is a fitness freak but what does she do in terms of work? Does she play a sport, work at a gym? What does she do that gives her the time to work out as much as she does and have health insurance to cover the incoming doom?



> She remembered the throbbing in her foot, as the pain pulsed, but it seemed to encompass her entire leg. She couldn't reach the lamp from the chair, so she grabbed the TV remote and flicked it on. It came to life, throwing light around the room. Ella gasped when she looked at her leg. Not only was her ankle swollen, but her entire leg had quadrupled in size, all the way up to her hip. She touched it, wincing in pain as her felt the soft and squishy skin under her fingers. The skin was pockmarked with bruising all the way up.
> 
> She stretched out sideways as far as she could without moving her leg, using the TV remote to reach her bag. She dug furiously through her bag, calling for an ambulance as soon as she found her phone. She stuttered and stammered her way through the call, her eyes never leaving her massive leg. After a few questions, the lady on the other end said an ambulance was on its’ way. Ella hung up and called her friend Trina. After a moment of Trina trying to gossip about some girls, Ella finally got through that Ella was waiting for an ambulance, but she couldn’t open the door.
> 
> ...



This is another whole section that could be halved and tightened up as well as... well I feel nothing when reading this. However much I hate the over emotionalized writing style that seems to have come into fashion I do still think that some emotional reaction from the reader towards what the main character is feeling is a needed part of writing especially in this sort of style. Basically what I am saying is that she is way to calm. If I woke up and all this happened to me I would freak out. Ok not enough not to do sensible things like calling an ambulance and a friend but there would be tears and possibly some screaming at the doctors to tell me what the fuck is fucking up. Ok she does cry at the end there but then she just takes the news about her last year to live like a champ?  

Also I have to ask... what was she doing at the kind of party where people put "extras" in the punch? This sounds like a not smart place to be. I would never go anywhere that I knew there could be that kind of stuff going on. It just... it makes me unsympathetic to the character as this is to me just a stupid move and why should I now feel sorry for her?  The other issue is that this whole section, which is really the meaty part of your story, is far to list like. A series of events just happen and you just tell the reader in what order they happen in. There is little actual storytelling happening in this section and very little reaction from any of the people involved. 



> She found a channel that was running news stories. There was something on about those two super heroes in the city of Cabran, having a massive fight with yet another bad guy. There were bad guys, and girls, appearing all the time now. Why was it people went crazy when they got super powers? Ella knew she would never get like that. She only half watched the story, starting to doze as the medication kicked in. She caught a glimpse of the giant man the two heroes had fought. He looked about seven feet tall, with arms as thick as her waist. She didn’t hear the ridiculous name the media had called him, but she was sure it was as silly as all the others. Her eyes lost focus as the pain subsided completely. Another side effect of the medication. In a moment she was asleep.



I was expecting this at some point as I know what your series is about, yet this was still a highly jarring introduction to this side of the world. You have done nothing up until this point to introduce or have this element in the story. 



> Ella woke to the sound of banging on her door. It took her a moment to wake up. The banging sound repeated.



You don't need the last line. 




> “What the hell?” Ella said through clenched teeth as she rode the wave of pain washing over her from the movement. “Why didn’t you use your key?”. Trina opened her eyes.
> 
> “Sorry girl,” Trina said as she stepped away from the door, “I don’t have my full key set on me. Just my emergency set.” Trina moved over to one of the chairs in front of the television. She motioned for Ella to come sit down. “I got you something girl, something special.” Ella made her way over to her chair, easing herself down. Trina reached in to her jacket pocket. She held her hand in there for a moment.
> 
> ...



Ok... So not only do your two main characters frequently frequent parties where people slip things into the punch but those parties are hot spots for drug dealers but after overhearing one of them talk about a drug, Trina STEALS a packet of lord knows what... I mean how did she know that this was the cure all drug and not something else that can kill her dead... and Ella TAKES it? Few questions asked? Without knowing HOW to take it? She just gulps it down? 



> Ella wanted so much for this to get her back to her normal self. She knew Trina wanted that for her too, having stolen it from a drug dealer.



Sure, I get wanting to live but illegal drugs that does lord knows what is not the best way to get your life back... it is possibly why her life is as it is! 



> “Awesome girl,” Trina said happily. “Think you can make a trip over here?”



Trina needs to find a new catchphrase... "Girl" is starting to get on my nerves as she always starts any and all conversations with it."




> ‘Wow Ella,” a familiar voice called out, “what happened to you?” Ella turned, seeing three of the boys from the basketball court when her condition had started. They walked over to her, staring at her.
> 
> “You look like you been fighting or something,” one of the boys said.
> 
> ...



Ok... so these are the jerks that started the horror show that has been her life for the last few month and she just laughs at their "joke"? This just doesn't seem... right. 




> “I want it back,” the voice interrupted, “I will meet you at her place in one hour.” The person hung up the phone. Ella's heart pounded in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears. She looked at her phone, an app leaping out to grab her attention.
> 
> "Of course!" Ella slapped her forehead as she remembered the Friend Tracker app both she and Trina had added to their phones. She opened it, selecting Trina as a contact. It took a moment, then opened a street directory. A red pin indicated where Trina’s phone was last detected.
> 
> “Got you!” Ella chirped excitedly. She called the police. She gave them details about Trina being kidnapped from her apartment by a guy they think was a drug dealer. She gave the woman on the phone the address the app had displayed.



Chirped? Only birds chirp. Use said. There is little to no use for any other kind of dialogue tag. They distract the reader and break them out of the story. It is like when they say that you should never break the fourth wall in movies because it throws the viewer out of the story and suspends their willing suspension of disbelief. 

Then there is the issue of the sudden convenient app. Just when you need it... 




> “What’d ya do Bruise-Ella?” the comedian laughed. The policemen stopped, turning to look at the three boys.
> 
> “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” the officer closest to them asked.
> 
> ...



All this from the guy in the car calling out? If he had shouted all of it out to his buddy then why is she asking?



> The boys harassed her some more, calling her Bruise-Ella a few more times, but she barely registered them. She was far too worried about Trina.



Something is obviously up and all they can do is chant Bruise-Ella? Some other reaction... any other reaction even just not being around would be more logical. 



> She climbed the stairs slowly this time, but was still out of breath when she got to the top. She walked along and in to Trina’s apartment. Someone grabbed her by her short hair, pulling her around. She heard the door slam shut, then felt something hit her across her back. As she stumbled forward, she was surprised it didn’t hurt as much as it should have.
> 
> “Where’s my stuff bitch?” a familiar male voice asked. Before she could answer, she felt something hit her in the shoulder. This time, she didn’t move. She felt the pressure of whatever hit her, but again there was no pain to it. She stood up straight and turned around. She did not recognise the face of the man in front of her, but she knew his voice. He had Trina not too long ago. In his right hand was a metal rod, his arm flexed and ready to swing again.



When did he get there? I am assuming that he was the guy in the getaway car that the police told her about but... how close was that, that he got there, up into the apartment, hid and found a weapon before she reached the front door?



> Then for Bruisella,



Why is she suddenly referring to herself as Bruisella when she has been Ella up until now except to the boys?



> “Where you off to Ella?” one asked, blocking her access to the driver's side door. Ella stopped in front of him, smiling as she looked up in to his face. The cheeky grin he wore changed to surprise when she grabbed his hips and lifted him up off the ground. She twisted and placed him behind her. The other two boys had been approaching from the sides, but stopped, their faces wide in amazement.



Ok these guys have not been the most upstanding of men so far but the transition from thinking up names from Disney princesses to full on thughood was super fast.. This feels like their style changed just so that you could have more moments with her being super. If you want more of her testing her new powers then you need to re-write a precedent for their behaviour into the story. 



> “And boy’s,” she winked, “the name’s Bruisella!” Without waiting to see their reaction, she drove off laughing.



Why? I don't really get why she picked this name as her super name... also she just found out her friend is dead and she is all smiles? This whole section from the moment the thug jumps her to this moment feels emotionally inconsistent. 



> It’d been six months since Bruisella found and punished all the men involved in Trina’s death. She felt some satisfaction that justice had been done, although as much as she wanted to, she’d refrained from killing any of them. Even though they all deserved it. The last few had really pushed her too, especially that one guy that wouldn't stop mouthing off at her. She could still remember his expression though, when he finally shut up when she lifted the car over his head to drop on him like she'd threatened. He'd only shut his mouth when she actually lifted the car off the ground.



She either didn't kill ANY of them or she tried not to but some died anyway... 



> Bruisella wasn't concerned about which side they were on, she just hated the fact that normal people were always the victims, the collateral damage in the epic battles.
> 
> No, not wanted to do, needed to do. Nodding her head, she started her car. Her new mission, she’d decided, was to teach the strong that they were not the strongest, not anymore. She would be the voice for everyday people, letting the powerful know they were being watched.
> 
> ...



Okay... I understand the idea of policing the police. Someone needs to watch the watchers but is beating them up the right way to do this? Is that even her idea or is she just wanting to take "revenge"? Putting some sort of system in place, so rule book or law would achieve her goal with less casualties than her plan of doing exactly what she is hating on them (the other supers) for doing. 



> “More than anything big man,” she chuckled. “You all need to know that you’re not the top of the food chain.”



But what will that do? What will that proove? How will this help the people?




> “Too many heroes, too many villains,” Bruisella said matter-of-factly, “consider me the referee. I’ll call a penalty on anyone that gets out of line.”


 But how? By the time she hears about a fight on the news and gets there the damage will have been done... so she beats them up after the fact. It has been prooven that spanking doesn't improve behaviour and all she is doing is spanking them. 



> “Better than a chance I think. Shall we begin?” Bruisella licked her lips as she punched her right hand in to her left palm. The Block nodded, then charged, covering the distance between them quickly with his massive stride. The smile on Bruisella’s face couldn’t have gotten any wider as the two combatants both swung their fists at the other.



This makes her sound like a simple bully that is doing this because she enjoys beating people up. 




> “Well,” Bruisella said, “I guess I’ll monitor you all and keep you all in line. Now that I’ve beaten the strongest.”



Again how? 



> “Oh really,” Bruisella said, her eyebrow raised sceptically. “What’s his name?” The Block took a few steps, then leapt in to the air. Just before he took off, he said a name.
> 
> Bruisella stood for a moment, trying to remember the name the Block had said as he took off in to the air. She was pretty sure he had said “The Captain”.



He just told her the name... she really should not need to try and remember something so important to her. She obviously has the memory too as she just looked at the list of name and numbers in the thugs phone before crushing it but was able to track them all down.


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## MadMickyG (Jul 8, 2017)

Wow, thanks for all that Fantastical.  

I didn't want to get in to too much detail about everything, as it's more a an introduction to the character.

I think that the Bruisella before the end was a slip up on my part.  I've known the character as Bruisella before she was just Ella.  I had to consciously think about her name when I was writing it.

I will read your comments a few times, but leave the editing until later.  Fresh eyes and all that.
While I was editing it for the forum, I managed to chop a few parts out, realising they didn't do anything for the story.  I'll go over it again a few times.

As for the whole scene that where she and Trina were at, I am a straight shooter that doesnt drink or do that stuff.  Been training in martial arts for over 30 years.
Been to plenty of parties where stuff like this can happen. I do usually end up leaving, as not my kind of party. I don't think they mean to start out that way. But a friend of a friend etc. 

I will work out how to include her back story, job etc, to flesh her out that little bit more.

Again, thanks for taking the time to read and comment.


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## The Fantastical (Jul 9, 2017)

It is a pleasure...  Editing is best done with after a little time away from the work. Let your brain "forget" what you said a little lol. 

As for bruisella I think what was lacking was a more fleshed out reason as to how she got that name. Did she get it due to the thugs calling her or due to her beating the other supers? If the former you need to give a reason why she picked it due to its origins. 

Ah I understand what you are saying about the party.  

Goodluck and good writing!


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## MadMickyG (Jul 10, 2017)

I was on the cross-trainer at the gym this morning, mulling over this story, when an idea to mesh it better came to me.

Will think on it for a few days, but should be productive regarding her back story.  Hell, even now, thoughts about it are piling in to my brain. 

Just wish I wasn't at work, so I could get to writing/updating it.


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## MadMickyG (Dec 8, 2017)

I have a question about my re-editing/rewriting Bruisella's origin story.

I have been doing it for the past week, changing the story for the better I think. But I still have a few things to add to the story, but the word count has already doubled from the original.

Should I chop it down, or leave in the fleshing-out parts I've added?


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