"Wha-What are you?!" screamed the farmer's wife.
Rachael opened her mouth. Only a weak cry crawled out.
"Devil..." whispered the woman. Her body shook as the color drained from her face. She backed up toward the door. "Devil!" she screamed. "Deeeevil!"
Rachael reached out. A gust of wind from the window blew the sheet off of her body. Across her bare skin was only spots of dried blood. But no scars. She stepped off the bed. "Please... don't..." she finally managed to utter.
"DEVIL!!" The farmer's wife made the sign of the cross and ran out of the room. There was some yelling. Then the farmer appeared. He stood at the threshold and stared in silence.
In front of him was the young lady whom, just days earlier, was a twisted pile of blood, bones, and skin. She looked like she had been in death's grip. Now, she was a beautiful, radiant woman who was very alive and, he suddenly realized, very very naked. He averted his eyes.
Rachael quickly surveyed the room. An open window to her left. White sheets lying on the bed. A barren desk to her right. No extra clothes or shoes anywhere. She immediately grabbed the sheets and wrapped it around herself.
The farmer backed away from the door, just in time for his wife to enter with a shotgun. "GET AWAY FROM US, DEVIL!" she called out.
Rachael studied the couple for a moment, brushed away the thought of doing them harm, then leapt over the bed and out the window. Wood and glass broke and tore through her flesh. She rolled onto the dirt floor and braced herself for a shotgun blast. But none came.
Rachael scrambled to her feet. The farmer and his wife were staring through the broken window. The shotgun was still leveled at her, but the wife's finger was dangling off the trigger. Then Rachael noticed all the blood on the window sill. And bits of flesh.
A flash of brown crashed into her. She toppled to the ground. Fierce teeth bit into her forearm. The farmer's dog yanked her sideways, throwing drops of blood onto the sheets. The sheets grew crimson.
She fixed an intense gaze on the dog. The air rippled. Then the dog flew into the air and smacked into the house with a yelp.
"DEVIL!!" screamed the farmer's wife. She fired her shotgun. Beads of metal ripped through Rachael's stomach. The impact propelled her backwards. She felt every little piece break her skin and cut through her organs. The pain was excruciating.
She closed her eyes and grinded her teeth. A large tremor shook the ground. There was wood creaking and cracking. Glass shattering. Metal twisting. Then two screams. And an explosion.
Wrapped in the crimson sheets like a burrito with raw meat, Rachael fell unconscious again. She laid on the ground for hours, her mind exhausted, her body repairing, and her soul struggling to stay alive.
In her inert state, she didn't notice the little girl emerge from the wrecked house. She didn't see the little girl crawl over to where she lay. She didn't see the little girl sit there, watching Rachael's skin rebuild itself. And she didn't see the little girl wipe away a tear, then smile.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Chapter 11: Sanctuary
Fear pushed her forward. Fear and a new sense of self-preservation kept her stumbling blindly through the forest away from the sounds of gunshots, and animalistic screams of the undead. The hundreds of cuts that covered her body hadn’t had a chance to clot, re-opening and tearing with every step. The night was cold, the wind unforgiving to her naked skin. Still, she pushed on through the unknown darkness before her. She couldn’t help feeling as if the creatures were in pursuit. During the course of her torture, hundreds had spawned out of the darkness and she could still hear their grotesque child-like laughter and smelt their stink of rotten flesh. She had wanted to die so badly. She had tried to kill herself, and yet here she was, the pain reminding her that she hadn’t crossed over, that she wasn’t safe.
“Out of the woods.” She thought to herself. The saying almost brought on a smile.
Suddenly she crumpled to the ground. Her legs refused to move anymore, the hardwire to her brain severed. She felt the patchy grass beneath her body. It was cold and damp. The sharp rocks and wood hidden within cut through her skin, adding to the pulpy mess of blood and torn skin covering her body. Under normal circumstances she would have cursed in irritation, but in her current state she was too exhausted to not appreciate such the small ‘inconvenience’. The forest became even darker as her consciousness, defeated, gave into sleep.
When she awoke she found herself on a bed. The trace of musk and oil mixed with the fresh cold air flowing through the open window reminded her of how alone she was. Somewhere in her distant memory she recalled how she came to be here, but she quickly tossed the thought away as the door opened and the silhouette of a tall and slender man approached. “How are you feeling, hon?” the stranger asked in a soft comforting tone. She opened her mouth to speak. It was dry and she felt the crusted blood flake off her lips.
She trembled, “Where am I?”
“Lakeshore. I saw you lyin’ out on the road outside an..” he hesitated and quickly turned his head nervously. It was in that instant that she realized that she was completely naked besides the blanket which lay on top of her. She started to cry. The drifting in an out of consciousness had left her confused. Everything seemed so surreal as if she had woken up from a series of nightmares. She felt violated and helpless. She quickly checked her sores and found nothing unusual except for a cut on her upper left-hand cheek. Strange, she could have sworn...
The farmer had called for his wife.
“Take care of the children, I don’t want them to see,” a husky woman’s voice urged. A dog barked in the distance. Rachael pulled the cover up to her chin and quickly, as if by instinct, wiped the tears and dried blood away from her face. Her short hair was a tangled mess and she instinctively brushed it back with her fingers. Her face instantly became damp with sweat. A stout woman, who looked to be in her late forties, entered the room.
“You’ve been out for nearly two days miss. Are you feelin’ okay?”
“Not really. What happened?” Her voice trembling a bit.
“I was hoping you would know.” The woman smiled. Her voice was comforting. “We found you outside in the fields, you were cut up pretty bad. Almost thought you wouldn’t make it. Speaking of which, do you mind if I check out your wounds?"
Rachel lifted the sheet afraid of what she would find underneath and was surprised to see that most of the cuts had healed over so that there were barely any trace of scars.
"Oh, my Lord!" The woman stared in disbelief and Racheal could see the fear in her eyes matching that of her own.
“Out of the woods.” She thought to herself. The saying almost brought on a smile.
Suddenly she crumpled to the ground. Her legs refused to move anymore, the hardwire to her brain severed. She felt the patchy grass beneath her body. It was cold and damp. The sharp rocks and wood hidden within cut through her skin, adding to the pulpy mess of blood and torn skin covering her body. Under normal circumstances she would have cursed in irritation, but in her current state she was too exhausted to not appreciate such the small ‘inconvenience’. The forest became even darker as her consciousness, defeated, gave into sleep.
When she awoke she found herself on a bed. The trace of musk and oil mixed with the fresh cold air flowing through the open window reminded her of how alone she was. Somewhere in her distant memory she recalled how she came to be here, but she quickly tossed the thought away as the door opened and the silhouette of a tall and slender man approached. “How are you feeling, hon?” the stranger asked in a soft comforting tone. She opened her mouth to speak. It was dry and she felt the crusted blood flake off her lips.
She trembled, “Where am I?”
“Lakeshore. I saw you lyin’ out on the road outside an..” he hesitated and quickly turned his head nervously. It was in that instant that she realized that she was completely naked besides the blanket which lay on top of her. She started to cry. The drifting in an out of consciousness had left her confused. Everything seemed so surreal as if she had woken up from a series of nightmares. She felt violated and helpless. She quickly checked her sores and found nothing unusual except for a cut on her upper left-hand cheek. Strange, she could have sworn...
The farmer had called for his wife.
“Take care of the children, I don’t want them to see,” a husky woman’s voice urged. A dog barked in the distance. Rachael pulled the cover up to her chin and quickly, as if by instinct, wiped the tears and dried blood away from her face. Her short hair was a tangled mess and she instinctively brushed it back with her fingers. Her face instantly became damp with sweat. A stout woman, who looked to be in her late forties, entered the room.
“You’ve been out for nearly two days miss. Are you feelin’ okay?”
“Not really. What happened?” Her voice trembling a bit.
“I was hoping you would know.” The woman smiled. Her voice was comforting. “We found you outside in the fields, you were cut up pretty bad. Almost thought you wouldn’t make it. Speaking of which, do you mind if I check out your wounds?"
Rachel lifted the sheet afraid of what she would find underneath and was surprised to see that most of the cuts had healed over so that there were barely any trace of scars.
"Oh, my Lord!" The woman stared in disbelief and Racheal could see the fear in her eyes matching that of her own.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Chapter 10: The Soul
She was floating on a soft raft in the middle of the ocean. The gentle waves lifted her up and let her down. It was a soothing rhythmic motion. This is how Rachael felt as she died.
The soul is a tenuous string that vibrates with fierce intensity. This creates a brilliant glow that is delicious and powerful. Every soul has a unique vibration, some brighter than others. It's energy trickles in all directions, expanding, touching, and mingling with everything in its path. Sometimes, when it encounters a compatible vibration, the two momentarily combine and become exponentially radiant.
Rachael's soul was alone in the black. Its vibration slowed down and grew dark.
Somewhere in the void, there was a flutter. A glow. A speck of radiance that danced like a firefly who just found its way home.
The glow fluttered to Rachael's soul. Its energy reached out and joined with Rachael's, massaging it and feeding it. There was a gentle hum. "Rachael..." it whispered. "Rachael..."
Rachael's soul string buzzed. It was only enough to emit a dull light.
"Rachael... don't go yet..."
Her soul began to pulse.
"Don't go yet... there's still much to do..."
"...much... to... do...?" Rachael felt a warm rush flow through her. It was electrifying.
"They found us... they'll be coming for us... they won't stop until we're dead..."
"...they... oh no..."
"There's still much to do... we have to run... and to warn the others..."
"...the... others... warn the others..."
Then there was a harsh crack. A bite. A bloody tearing of muscle. Screams. The pain of a thousand cuts over every major nerve.
Rachael screamed. She jerked her head up. Blood, saliva, and poison dripped from her numb lips. A silver metal ball fell between her legs.
The ground was shaking. There was dust. Screaming. Someone upstairs was screaming, shouting. POW POW POW! Gunshots.
Something bubbled from Rachael's mind. The air rippled around her. She stood up. The ropes were lying lifelessly on the ground. She quickly surveyed the basement. There was a window behind her. The air rippled again and the glass broke. She crawled out and started running.
It all happened so fast. She heard another explosion and was halfway through a field when she finally turned around. The large, decrepit house behind her looked to be held together with duct tape and glue; it was a wonder it hadn't collapsed yet. There was an orange glow and smoke from one side. A motorcycle was parked in the driveway.
POW POW POW! She turned around and ran into the woods.
The soul is a tenuous string that vibrates with fierce intensity. This creates a brilliant glow that is delicious and powerful. Every soul has a unique vibration, some brighter than others. It's energy trickles in all directions, expanding, touching, and mingling with everything in its path. Sometimes, when it encounters a compatible vibration, the two momentarily combine and become exponentially radiant.
Rachael's soul was alone in the black. Its vibration slowed down and grew dark.
Somewhere in the void, there was a flutter. A glow. A speck of radiance that danced like a firefly who just found its way home.
The glow fluttered to Rachael's soul. Its energy reached out and joined with Rachael's, massaging it and feeding it. There was a gentle hum. "Rachael..." it whispered. "Rachael..."
Rachael's soul string buzzed. It was only enough to emit a dull light.
"Rachael... don't go yet..."
Her soul began to pulse.
"Don't go yet... there's still much to do..."
"...much... to... do...?" Rachael felt a warm rush flow through her. It was electrifying.
"They found us... they'll be coming for us... they won't stop until we're dead..."
"...they... oh no..."
"There's still much to do... we have to run... and to warn the others..."
"...the... others... warn the others..."
Then there was a harsh crack. A bite. A bloody tearing of muscle. Screams. The pain of a thousand cuts over every major nerve.
Rachael screamed. She jerked her head up. Blood, saliva, and poison dripped from her numb lips. A silver metal ball fell between her legs.
The ground was shaking. There was dust. Screaming. Someone upstairs was screaming, shouting. POW POW POW! Gunshots.
Something bubbled from Rachael's mind. The air rippled around her. She stood up. The ropes were lying lifelessly on the ground. She quickly surveyed the basement. There was a window behind her. The air rippled again and the glass broke. She crawled out and started running.
It all happened so fast. She heard another explosion and was halfway through a field when she finally turned around. The large, decrepit house behind her looked to be held together with duct tape and glue; it was a wonder it hadn't collapsed yet. There was an orange glow and smoke from one side. A motorcycle was parked in the driveway.
POW POW POW! She turned around and ran into the woods.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Chapter 9: Grendel
He had a name, but it was forgotten long ago. He knew he had a name, because he remembered he had a family and all members of a family had names did they not? Unlike now, he had been small for his age; small and prone to sickness. What little he remembered from his memories were fragments of him waking up in bed. The room would always be the same. Everything was white, from the walls to the bed to the smock that he wore. If he weren't alive, if he didn't have blood running through his veins, he could easily have blended into his surroundings like a ghost.
Mother, father, brother, sister... Mother, father, brother... Mother, brother... Mother... And then, the room was empty. It remained empty for a long time. Near the end stopped hoping, kept his eyes closed, not wanting to face his loneliness.
And then he heard voices. In his excitement he opened eyes which hadn't been opened in years. The light blinded him, and he winced in pain as his eyes adjusted to colors, shapes, and movement. It went on for minutes, and then the pain ceased, he could make out the outlines of people. "They're back! My family is back!" He thought in excitement.
"Dad!? Mom!?" his head moved from shape to shape, the bodies still blurred shapes and shadows.
"Yes dear, we're here, we came back, everything is going to be fine now." The woman spoke in a cautious whisper.
"Sorry, I ever doubted you. It's just that..."
This time the man spoke. "Now, there my boy." It hasn't been that long. "You've been sick... I bet it's seemed like decades..."
"It... has... But now you're here..."
"Yes son we are." He felt a sharp prick on his shoulder, and the world went black again.
It wouldn't be years later that he would find out the truth. They would tell him that his family had been murdered. That the people he was talking to were their killers and were attempting to kill him, before they got to him. Only half of the poison had been injected, which left him mute. It also woke something within him -hatred for everything around him.
He found out the people who were responsible for killing his family and the families of others and vowed revenge, no matter what the cost. He accepted to be part of the program wholeheartedly since he couldn't do much with the physical body that God had given him. Afterwards, much like many of the other orphans, he became their assassin. Taking on job after job until what little ounce of humanity which remained within him was buried underneath the blood of hundreds. He felt no compassion. He had no problem killing a woman and crushing her child's skull. He was a monster and they called him Grendel.
Mother, father, brother, sister... Mother, father, brother... Mother, brother... Mother... And then, the room was empty. It remained empty for a long time. Near the end stopped hoping, kept his eyes closed, not wanting to face his loneliness.
And then he heard voices. In his excitement he opened eyes which hadn't been opened in years. The light blinded him, and he winced in pain as his eyes adjusted to colors, shapes, and movement. It went on for minutes, and then the pain ceased, he could make out the outlines of people. "They're back! My family is back!" He thought in excitement.
"Dad!? Mom!?" his head moved from shape to shape, the bodies still blurred shapes and shadows.
"Yes dear, we're here, we came back, everything is going to be fine now." The woman spoke in a cautious whisper.
"Sorry, I ever doubted you. It's just that..."
This time the man spoke. "Now, there my boy." It hasn't been that long. "You've been sick... I bet it's seemed like decades..."
"It... has... But now you're here..."
"Yes son we are." He felt a sharp prick on his shoulder, and the world went black again.
It wouldn't be years later that he would find out the truth. They would tell him that his family had been murdered. That the people he was talking to were their killers and were attempting to kill him, before they got to him. Only half of the poison had been injected, which left him mute. It also woke something within him -hatred for everything around him.
He found out the people who were responsible for killing his family and the families of others and vowed revenge, no matter what the cost. He accepted to be part of the program wholeheartedly since he couldn't do much with the physical body that God had given him. Afterwards, much like many of the other orphans, he became their assassin. Taking on job after job until what little ounce of humanity which remained within him was buried underneath the blood of hundreds. He felt no compassion. He had no problem killing a woman and crushing her child's skull. He was a monster and they called him Grendel.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Chapter 8: The Recovery
His blood trickles into the stream. It clouds crimson. Little fish dart away, terrified of touching his blood, of being tainted by his evil.
Every emotion is pounding in his head, beating on his skull. It's hard to concentrate. He wants to scream, but doesn't. It would do no good.
A rat skitters by. He lurches forward and catches it by the tail. Quick and deft. His massive hands twist the rodent apart. Hot steam bellows from its entrails. He is hungry, so he swallows it in three bites.
Leaves rustle behind him. He turns around to see his princess, beautiful and frail, lying on a soft bed of leaves. She's bare, except for her flimsy hospital gown. Her wrists and ankles are red from the hospital straps. The cuts on her leg have caked over in brown clumps. There are dried blood streaks down her pale, slender legs.
He reaches into the stream and cups a handful of water. Gently, he pours it on her legs.
In the distance, there are gunshots. He looks up, his muscles tense, and he reaches for his weapon. Sharp blades extrude from the back of his forearms, reaching out towards his elbow. Similar razors-sharp talons eject from his back. His firearm is as silent as his blades, and even deadlier for long-ranged combat. He is ready to kill again if necessary. He will do anything and everything to protect his princess.
The sounds fade. Moments later, the buzz of a motorcycle ignites, then falls to a whisper.
"Uhhh..." she murmurs. He leans close to listen. "Uhhh..."
His body returns to its calm state, its humanoid state. In his palm he cradles another handful of water and carefully washes her face. She's so delicate and harmless, he thinks. Why would anyone want to hurt her? How dare they hurt her?
Her eyes move under their eyelids. "No..." She slowly twists her head side to side. "No... Noooo... Raaachael..."
Every emotion is pounding in his head, beating on his skull. It's hard to concentrate. He wants to scream, but doesn't. It would do no good.
A rat skitters by. He lurches forward and catches it by the tail. Quick and deft. His massive hands twist the rodent apart. Hot steam bellows from its entrails. He is hungry, so he swallows it in three bites.
Leaves rustle behind him. He turns around to see his princess, beautiful and frail, lying on a soft bed of leaves. She's bare, except for her flimsy hospital gown. Her wrists and ankles are red from the hospital straps. The cuts on her leg have caked over in brown clumps. There are dried blood streaks down her pale, slender legs.
He reaches into the stream and cups a handful of water. Gently, he pours it on her legs.
In the distance, there are gunshots. He looks up, his muscles tense, and he reaches for his weapon. Sharp blades extrude from the back of his forearms, reaching out towards his elbow. Similar razors-sharp talons eject from his back. His firearm is as silent as his blades, and even deadlier for long-ranged combat. He is ready to kill again if necessary. He will do anything and everything to protect his princess.
The sounds fade. Moments later, the buzz of a motorcycle ignites, then falls to a whisper.
"Uhhh..." she murmurs. He leans close to listen. "Uhhh..."
His body returns to its calm state, its humanoid state. In his palm he cradles another handful of water and carefully washes her face. She's so delicate and harmless, he thinks. Why would anyone want to hurt her? How dare they hurt her?
Her eyes move under their eyelids. "No..." She slowly twists her head side to side. "No... Noooo... Raaachael..."
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Chapter 7: Decisions
She was beyond exhausted. Her lungs were burning. What little oxygen she inhaled was quickly coughed out with blood and bile. The coldness of the basement had turned musty and oppressively humid within the course of an hour. Her tormentors were professional and it was obvious to her they weren't in it just for the money. They needed to see her like this, her fear and pain fed them, and they were starving.
Only thirty minutes had passed, and yet to Rachael it seemed like a couple of hours. Most of her clothes lay in tatters on the ground, her near-naked body exposed to all the disgusting creatures hiding in the shadows. What started as an interrogation had quickly become a perverse lesson in humiliation. Still, besides the beatings they hadn't touched her yet. She prayed for unconsciousness, even her death before shaking the thought from her mind. Still, she felt their eyes upon her, their excitement mounting. She heard their squeals of delight erupt with every blow. She didn't need to be touched to feel raped.
She knew she couldn't keep up the tough act when she saw those teeth. Up until then she had assumed she was dealing with the humans. She had no idea that she had gotten placed so high on their pay scale. She hadn't trained to deal with them yet, and she wasn't ready to fight them on their level. She only had one option left.
Amazingly, the round silver ball of her tongue-ring had stayed in place after all the blows. All she had to do was bite down on it, crack the shell, and the poison inside would end it all. The secret would be safe, her family would be safe and she could die knowing that. Still, it wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. First of all, this was a situation that she never took seriously. She had always been able to take care of herself before. Even when she didn't think she could, she managed to surprise herself with her 'abilities'. She had become over-confident, and now she was paying the price for it. It was that overabundance of confidence which, like fuel reserves, had kept her alive up until now. However, ever since she had seen the those teeth it was as if she was going two-hundred miles an hour and couldn't get her foot off the gas. She knew that she had to jump out before that happened, and right now she was running off fumes.
Ever so slightly, she passed her tongue between her jaws, felt the metal ball between her teeth begin to give, and closed her eyes...
Only thirty minutes had passed, and yet to Rachael it seemed like a couple of hours. Most of her clothes lay in tatters on the ground, her near-naked body exposed to all the disgusting creatures hiding in the shadows. What started as an interrogation had quickly become a perverse lesson in humiliation. Still, besides the beatings they hadn't touched her yet. She prayed for unconsciousness, even her death before shaking the thought from her mind. Still, she felt their eyes upon her, their excitement mounting. She heard their squeals of delight erupt with every blow. She didn't need to be touched to feel raped.
She knew she couldn't keep up the tough act when she saw those teeth. Up until then she had assumed she was dealing with the humans. She had no idea that she had gotten placed so high on their pay scale. She hadn't trained to deal with them yet, and she wasn't ready to fight them on their level. She only had one option left.
Amazingly, the round silver ball of her tongue-ring had stayed in place after all the blows. All she had to do was bite down on it, crack the shell, and the poison inside would end it all. The secret would be safe, her family would be safe and she could die knowing that. Still, it wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. First of all, this was a situation that she never took seriously. She had always been able to take care of herself before. Even when she didn't think she could, she managed to surprise herself with her 'abilities'. She had become over-confident, and now she was paying the price for it. It was that overabundance of confidence which, like fuel reserves, had kept her alive up until now. However, ever since she had seen the those teeth it was as if she was going two-hundred miles an hour and couldn't get her foot off the gas. She knew that she had to jump out before that happened, and right now she was running off fumes.
Ever so slightly, she passed her tongue between her jaws, felt the metal ball between her teeth begin to give, and closed her eyes...
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Chapter 6: The Monster
He loved his motorcycle. A Ducati Monster. It's fleshless exterior, exposed bones, and bare guts appealed to him. He could see into the soul of this Monster and feel its powerful core. Cold steel, brutal efficiency, and precise movements; it was as deadly a machine as he was.
More cops would be here soon. The two officers who showed up at Trudy's were rookies. Barely out of the academy. All it took was one look into their eyes. Just one look, and they were his.
Jonny Boy smiled. He relished the image of their twisted bodies. Snap-snap went their necks. He knew what they were going to do even before they did.
Despite his muscular form, he moved with the speed of a lion. Or a Ducati Monster. He was the perfect predator; grace and agility pounded with raw strength and brawn. Absolutely relentless, whenever he was in the killing zone, his mind thought of nothing else. Some called him a sociopath, though he simply had learned how to shut off his emotions long ago. Had he been a doctor or lawyer, he might have been one of the best in his field. But instead, fate put him on a different path - a path that led him to Rachel Chiang.
The Ducati roared to life. Its eyes blazed into the night, slicing a path through the blackness. Jonny looked back at the coffee shop. The paramedics were hovering over the police officers. The shop manager stood behind them, yelling something frantically.
Jonny adjusted his gloves, checked his weapon, and... shit! Where's my wallet? Fuck, did the girl take it?!
He steadied his bike. Think back now. I was talking to her. She had on that delicious little Baby-Doll T-shirt. I looked into her eyes. Her eyes. Her goddamn eyes. Then I was down in pain. What the hell did she do to me? I could feel her... in my head. What did she do to me?? What did she see? Shit, what did she see? Did she... Fuck, what if she knows?
He twisted the handlebars and blasted the Ducati into the night.
More cops would be here soon. The two officers who showed up at Trudy's were rookies. Barely out of the academy. All it took was one look into their eyes. Just one look, and they were his.
Jonny Boy smiled. He relished the image of their twisted bodies. Snap-snap went their necks. He knew what they were going to do even before they did.
Despite his muscular form, he moved with the speed of a lion. Or a Ducati Monster. He was the perfect predator; grace and agility pounded with raw strength and brawn. Absolutely relentless, whenever he was in the killing zone, his mind thought of nothing else. Some called him a sociopath, though he simply had learned how to shut off his emotions long ago. Had he been a doctor or lawyer, he might have been one of the best in his field. But instead, fate put him on a different path - a path that led him to Rachel Chiang.
The Ducati roared to life. Its eyes blazed into the night, slicing a path through the blackness. Jonny looked back at the coffee shop. The paramedics were hovering over the police officers. The shop manager stood behind them, yelling something frantically.
Jonny adjusted his gloves, checked his weapon, and... shit! Where's my wallet? Fuck, did the girl take it?!
He steadied his bike. Think back now. I was talking to her. She had on that delicious little Baby-Doll T-shirt. I looked into her eyes. Her eyes. Her goddamn eyes. Then I was down in pain. What the hell did she do to me? I could feel her... in my head. What did she do to me?? What did she see? Shit, what did she see? Did she... Fuck, what if she knows?
He twisted the handlebars and blasted the Ducati into the night.
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