Artistic director Atalee Judy and her sinewy, sweaty eight-woman band bounce off walls, leaping and body-slamming to White Zombie. The world is their mosh pit, dance an outlet for rage that would make George Balanchine flinch.

Forget pink tutus; black-vinyl catsuits and scarlet wedding gowns rock.

"We're smashing all the molds," agreed Suzanne Dado, 33, a founding member of the avant-garde Chicago troupe. "It's not about being beautiful, or beautiful moves. It's about raw movement. We blend martial arts, stage combat and World Wrestling Federation -- a little fake stuff in there -- to get the message across."

Their message: that beauty springs from strength -- mental, physical, emotional and spiritual. "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger," the Whiting-bred Dado said.

The indie rebels are set to slam-dance their stuff for the next two weeks at their alma mater, the Dance Center of Columbia College. Breakbone -- even the name packs a wallop -- will present an expanded version of its signature piece, "One," a dark, multimedia work spotlighting eight women trapped by solitude.

Set in a medieval castle, "One" is steeped in Goth gloom and mixes film clips with live angst. In the first scene, a red-haired female writhes in a dungeon, a slap at self-imposed ideals of beauty. In the second, a troubled Ophelia (Dado) attempts to drown herself in a tub of rose petals. Her romanticized fate is interrupted, and the would-be suicide is revived.

Dado, a 1989 graduate of George Clark High School who later studied at Columbia, regards the segment as a metaphor for true grit: the act of seeking help. "When you have the least amount of strength, that's when you need to knock on the door," she said.

A new segment threatens to be the most disturbing. Chicago dancer-choreographer Judy portrays a "cutter" who lashes out in violence. The vignette addresses the growing issue of self-mutiliation among teens, especially girls.

Her characters are universal, said Judy, whose tranquil tone belies the air of danger that pervades her works. Each "has flaws, simple human flaws," the punky 35-year-old said. In short, the "One" individuals are neither unreal nor alone. Each is a 21st-century everywoman capable of flexing muscle and breaking free.

"If you could look behind closed doors in half of the houses in America, you'd see a lot of very odd things. You'd see people having breakdowns, people having fights, physical violence. You'd see women making themselves sick to lose weight," Judy said mildly. "In 'ONE,' what's hidden comes to the surface."