THE BAD GIRL COMES ALIVE

In this draft we’re introducing the reader to the bad girl. What do you think? Did we do it?

“NPT Newsz.Now.” Ursula spat the command at the device on her wrist. The microbial virologist stood behind the upper most tier of seats in the empty lecture hall impatient for National Public Telepathy’s live broadcast of world news to appear on the observation wall. She stood, gripping the back of a seat with long fingernails sinking into its plush fibers. Her lips curved a smile they seldom exercised anticipating the news of her prowess, news that would prove her genius in genetic manipulation.
A running ticker came into view. Breaking news. Olympyons faced with deadly out-break of an unknown origin.’ An impassioned announcer tallied victims. “Five hundred people have succumbed within the last six hours. Emergency…..
“Vhat eez zhat? Five hundred, only five hundred?” Ursula doubted the accuracy of that report. After a lifetime of work to create the annihilator of millions she’d only succeeded in killing five hundred? She snapped her head from left to right making sure she was still alone, then cut her eyes to the DB framed in rubies embedded in her bony wrist. There’d soon be a class filling the hall and she knew enough to pretend abhorrence to this developing news. Her nails dug further into the upholstery and she glared at the announcer as if it was his fault more innocent victims weren’t dying.
She listened. “The victims display no sign of early trauma or disease. It appears they suddenly lose consciousness, their lungs collapse and hearts stop. All attempts at saving their lives have failed. Geneticists at the Ponce Heidon Institute have isolated an unknown virus from the victims’ blood. I repeat, no source has been established for this deadly strain. The Olympyon Center for Disease has issued a public notice, when at all possible, place all activities on remote operation, activate Level 5 sanitization procedures and stay tuned to NPT for updates. It is speculated the …..”
Vel, zhat’s not going to help von leetle bit. Ursula quietly scoffed at the OCD’s attempts to prevent contagion and swiveled a stilettoed heel toward the doorway. The news announcer’s somber report continued streaming, his voice fading as she marched out of the lecture hall, purposely allowing the live broadcast to greet the students as they arrived.

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