Becoming Electra Woman

 

Six months have passed since that fateful day when Lori's world changed forever. Her uncle Frank took out a loan to purchase a slightly worn two-story house nestled in a tranquil neighborhood on the city's edge. He brought in a team of construction workers to breathe new life into the place. Meanwhile, Lori took charge of her situation by enrolling in a self-defense martial arts class. She also joined a self-defense course to help manage the anxiety and turmoil she felt after the attack. To add a fun twist, she even designed a costume for her future crime-fighting alter ego, which her uncle wasn't too thrilled about. Still, he knows his niece well; her resolve is strong.

"Why do I need a costume?" she wondered, a smile spreading across her face as she looked at the vibrant stretch Lycra fabric she found at a local discount store, along with a pattern to make her idea a reality. The pattern was for a ballerina outfit with long sleeves, and she snagged it at a bargain. Lori got some of her sewing talent from her mom, who was an amazing seamstress. Lori decided to put those skills to the test by stitching together a long-sleeved bodysuit. After trying it on, she examined her reflection in the oval mirror in the living room.

“Not too shabby,” she mused, pleased with the fit. She found some yellow leggings at the local aerobics shop that matched her bodysuit like a dream. To top off her look, she whipped up a pair of gloves in red and yellow. After taking a step back to check out her creation, she noticed it was missing a logo on the front. So, she took off the outfit and started pinning the letters EW right under the cool yellow lightning bolt design at the collar. 

"What could EW mean?" she wondered aloud. Then, with a snap of her fingers, she exclaimed, "Electra Woman!" A big grin spread across her face as she felt a rush of satisfaction and confidence. The gloves have an awesome lightning design on them. She made a yellow belt to match the leggings and cape, but she was still on the fence about using the cape. Frank stopped by to see his niece and fill her in on the latest developments at Electra Base. "How's everything, Lori?" he asked as she welcomed him inside, and they settled onto the couch. Puzzled by her choice to remain in the apartment where the incident occurred, he asked, "Why are you still living here?" "Uncle Frank, I avoid the bedroom where it happened," she replied, taking a brief pause before gesturing to the couch, "I sleep here instead.” Frank let out a sigh and shook his head, encouraging Lori, "You really ought to find a new place. Once my house is fixed up, you can move in with me." Lori nodded in agreement, "I’ll think about it." After a brief silence, Lori asked, “How’s the work on the basement coming along?”  

 

“I found something fascinating about the old house I bought,” he said, pausing for a moment for dramatics, “The basement is just right for my high-tech projects.” He was obviously happy about his discovery. The two-story house sits atop a hill featuring a generous basement that Frank envisions as the perfect location for his computer and tech haven. He even hired an architect to create a distinctive manmade cave beneath the basement, complete with an elevator that would transport him straight to the main level. With four bedrooms and two bathrooms, the house is definitely a good fit for Lori to consider moving in, but the final choice rests with her. She has always cherished her independence.  Even though the project is still underway, he expressed his eagerness to see the outcome. Frank enthusiastically shared his vision with Lori, who eagerly awaited the end results. When she asked about the possibility of concealing the artificial cave entrance, Frank nodded in agreement, mentioning that he was also developing a uniquely designed electric vehicle. “Uncle Frank, you’re a genius!” Lori praised him, causing a faint blush to rise on Frank's cheeks. He would do anything for his niece, but he couldn't shake the fear that her fixation on tracking down her rapist and exacting revenge could lead her into peril. “Sweetheart, the police still haven’t caught him, but I’m sure they will,” he said gently. Lori swallowed hard and replied, “I understand, but he’s still out there and he will do it again. I will find him,” her voice icy and resolute. Frank nodded thoughtfully and said, “I have something to show you.” He opened his black suitcase and revealed an intriguing wristband equipped with a unique device. Pressing a button, a beam of light shot out, sending the ashtray on the table flying. “Incredible!” Lori gasped.

“Absolutely, but it’s meant strictly for emergencies.” 

Lori beamed and asked, “Are you planning to develop more gadgets for me?”  

“Without a doubt,” he replied after a brief pause, he continued, “Lori, I realize you haven’t embarked on your crime-fighting escapades yet, but I need to ask you once more: are you really certain you want to pursue this?” Lori let out a deep sigh and gave a nod. “Uncle Frank, I know what I’m doing, and I assure you, I’ll be careful.” Two months later, she settled into her uncle’s newly renovated house, claiming one of the rooms for herself. Although construction workers were still busy on the opposite side of the home, it wouldn’t disrupt her personal endeavors. Lori was reluctant to leave her condo behind, but she understood that the man who assaulted her was unlikely to come back. Still, she had gathered some info about where he might be hiding. The information would still have to be verified though. Lori chose not to share this information with her uncle, fearing it would only increase his anxiety. It's best to keep him out of it until she's confident that she's found her rapist. A man makes his way up a set of stairs to an apartment in Anaheim, which is located on the opposite side of town. Dressed in a white tee shirt with denim janitorial overalls, he’s had a long day dealing with unruly kids at a nearby middle school where he works, and all he craves now is time to unwind and catch a few shows on TV. 

As he enters the apartment, a 23-year-old woman with a chic bob haircut and bangs, welcomes him, her light brown hair perfectly accentuating her lovely, tanned features. Her hazel eyes light up with excitement at the sight of him. “How was work today, Tim?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her older brother in a warm embrace. With a five-year age gap between them, she had always admired her older brother and depended on him for support and protection. Growing up in a fractured family, their parents were often absent, and when their father walked out on them, it placed a heavy burden on their mother, who struggled to care for her children when they were just 8 and 13 years old. The overwhelming pressure became unbearable for her, ultimately driving her to seek solace in alcohol. Over the years, her depression grew worse, and eventually, she was involved in an accident that took her life. Tim was just 20 years old and juggling a part-time job while studying at a community college when tragedy struck. After the loss of his mother, he faced a difficult decision: to abandon his education and take on a full-time job to provide for himself and his sister. His sister Kristen was still in high school at the time, and he encouraged her to complete it. "Come on, Kris, you need to graduate! After that, it's your choice whether to pursue college or not."

Kristen began to object, saying, “But…” 

Tim interrupted her, he said firmly, “No more excuses.” He playfully tousled her hair and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It’s just us, kid,” he said. She sighed and nodded. At the time she was 15 and still reveling over the loss of their mother. Kristen wanted to quit going to school and get a part-time job, but he insisted that she completed school. Throughout the years, Tim had navigated through various jobs before finally landing a janitorial role at a middle school. It wasn’t a career choice, but it brought in the money he needed to support himself and his sister. He sold his parents’ house and rented a two-bedroom apartment for him and his sister. After Kristen graduated, she found employment at the nearby mall. On her way home, Kristen picked up some groceries and prepared a homemade dinner for two. In previous years before she got a job, their meals consisted solely of TV dinners, but now that both are working, they can enjoy the luxury of cooking real meals.

Kristen told him, “I cooked veal, broccoli, and mashed potatoes, along with some homemade biscuits.”

He replied, “Sounds good, Kris. I’ll eat after I shower.” She hesitated to ask him if he planned to go out again that night, worried that delving into his personal life might be crossing a line. They both had their own lives outside of family matters, so it seemed wiser to keep her questions to herself. A few months back, she recalled hearing about a series of sexual assaults targeting women in their area, which made her cautious about certain places. One evening, while her friend Molly was driving her home, they spotted a man who resembled her brother getting into a woman’s car. Kris dismissed it, thinking there were plenty of guys who looked like him. “Is that your brother? Why is he dressed like a homeless man?” Molly asked. Kris quickly diverted the conversation, saying, “Could you please watch the road?” Kris lets out a worried sigh as she sets the plates down on the table, recalling memories that weigh on her mind. 

Their apartment is decked out in 1970s décor suitable for the times. House plants are placed in corners of the room, adding a touch of life, while a vintage kitchen table occupies one corner. A brown leather sofa, a thrift shop find, rests against the wall beside a sliding door leading to a cozy little balcony. Hanging above the table is a round glass lamp in a vibrant orange hue, also a thrift store treasure, and the olive-green curtains have a funky design on them, completing the retro vibe, all sourced from the same shop. As Tim sat down opposite her, she welcomed him with a friendly smile. “Hey Tim, any plans for tonight?” she asked casually. He shook his head, “Nah, I'm not going out tonight. I’m in the mood to watch, The Streets of San Francisco.” Kris nodded, and they enjoyed their meal together. Once dinner was done, they kicked back to watch some TV.

Meanwhile, Lori was immersed in her thrilling life as a vigilante. For several months, she had been apprehending criminals and leaving them securely tied up near the police station. With her trusty Electra car, she would transport the captured offenders and drop them off at the local precinct. She recalled her uncle’s advice that many vigilantes prefer to leave their captures close to the police station and then alert the authorities, so that’s exactly what she did. Although Frank remained skeptical about her crime-fighting pursuits, he still offered his support because she was family. 

Two days later, Lori decided to cozy up at home and indulge in some television instead of going out. As she flipped through the channels, a news segment caught her attention, featuring a reporter discussing vigilantes and the mixed opinions surrounding them. Some people hailed them as heroes. The scene was set at a nearby mall, bustling with passersby. Suddenly, Lori's gaze landed on a man accompanying a woman who looked to be in her twenties. The man struck a chord of familiarity. She racked her brain, and then it dawned on her, “No, it can’t be him,” she murmured to herself. She recalled the man she had given a ride to nearly a year ago—the very man who had raped her. Her heart raced, her brow knitted in tension, and heat rushed to her cheeks as she locked eyes on him. He briefly glanced at the reporter before quickly averting his gaze. The woman with red hair beside him wore a black mini skirt paired with a brown leather jacket. “I wonder when this was filmed,” she thought to herself. Stepping out of her room, she made her way straight to the Electra Base in the basement. “Uncle Frank, I saw that man,” she hesitated. 

“What man?” he asked. 

“The man who raped me. He was on TV; a reporter was discussing vigilantes, and he walked by in the background,” she said. Frank felt a mix of surprise and excitement at Lori's sighting, but he also worried that her eagerness to confront him might cloud her judgment.

“When do you think that report was filmed?” she asked.

“Well, it might not have been too long ago, but…” 

Lori cut in, “Do you think if I went down there, I could,” she hesitated, “possibly find him?” 

“Lori, if it was live, I doubt he’s still there now.” He did not want to discourage her from seeking justice, but he did not want her to jump in, without a plan.

Lori nodded, “You’re right,” she paused. “The reporter did interview a man who was helped by one of the vigilantes and I think he mentioned that the hero who helped him goes by the name of, 45-Bolt.” 

“Well, every vigilante has a name these days,” Frank remarked and added, “There’s Lightning Gen, who patrols the streets in San Gabriel. She’s quite famous, but only once was she caught on camera without her mask--she hasn't been seen since."

 He then added, "Most of them wear masks to protect their identities." Lori pondered the idea. "That makes sense, but I haven't been using one since I'm out at night and I've been careful to keep my face hidden," she replied. Frank suggested, "Maybe you should consider wearing one, just to be safe."

She shrugged and said, "Maybe." The following day, she visited the mall, she spotted the area where the reporter was filming, and she took a seat on one of the wooden benches in the quad. Lori surveyed her surroundings and closed her eyes, reflecting on the news clip she had seen earlier on the television. With a deep breath, she thought, "Where are you, you bastard? I will find you; I promise."

A few weeks later, Kristen was at the mall, immersed in the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping. Most of her gifts were intended for her brother and her friends. Taking a break, she settled onto a bench in the quad, observing the crowd and the children laughing on the merry-go-round. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she recalled the times her mother brought her and her brother to enjoy the ride. A gentle smile spread across her face as those cherished memories flooded back. As the evening wore on, Kristen made the choice to return home. She boarded the bus, which dropped her off just a block from her apartment complex. While strolling along the sidewalk, a Latino man came up to her, insisting she hand over her purse. Unfazed, she shot him a fierce glare and stood her ground.

“Hey, are you listening? Hand over your purse, now!" he demanded, his face obscured by a mask. But Kris refused to be cowed by a thug. Instead of complying, she feigned surrender, then she suddenly swung her purse with all her might, catching him off guard and knocking the gun from his grip. She quickly kicked it away from him and took off running. He chased after her, leaping onto her and bringing her to the ground. He held her down on the grass outside the apartment complex. Just as he began to choke her, someone intervened, grabbing him and yanking him away from her. She scrambled away from the chaos, casting a quick look over her shoulder to witness a woman in a superhero outfit battling the assailant. Kris dashed toward the apartment complex, punched in the key code to unlock the gate, and hurried to her apartment. 

The belongings she had been holding were scattered across the lawn. As she stepped inside, her brother welcomed her but quickly noticed her distress. Concerned, he asked, “What’s wrong?” He wrapped her in a comforting hug as she shook with emotion. 

He began to listen as she recounted the events, but before she could finish, he dashed out the door in pursuit of the culprit. His intentions were unmistakable; he was determined to end the perpetrator's life. However, by the time he arrived, he spotted a woman in a strange costume, pulling the perpetrator into her a oddly shaped vehicle. 

The electric car powered on silently and sped down the road. A look of confusion crossed his face. “Wow,” he whispered to himself. Noticing the bags Kris had left behind, he let out an exasperated sigh and picked them up, trudging back to his apartment.

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Electra Woman & Dyna Girl Chapter 1

Chapter 3