The night was still early as he backed his Harley up to the curb outside the slightly run down, but highly noisy bar and cut the engine. Dropping the kickstand, Jensill sat on his bike and took in the sites and sounds of the busy street.
It was crawling this time of night with pimps and prostitutes, gang bangers and thugs and people just out looking for a good time. It was a fairly rough crowd all in all, but things were going smoothly, that was to say that people were neither drunk or high enough at this point to start causing any serious trouble.
A police cruiser slowly rolled down the street past him and was greeted by the crowd with a multitude of obscene gestures and greetings. The cops inside kept their eyes ahead as they made their way by, he doubted that they would do anything else unless there was seriuos trouble, and then that would only be when back-up arrived.
Jensill didn't dislike the police, but he didn't have much use for them anymore. They were normally as indifferent to the goings on around them as he was, which he understood and in a small way respected.
They spent their days surrounded by the worst kind of people, some of the managed to stay above it, others succumbed and became no better that the people the arrested, the rest became numb to it all, which is the way that Jensill was feeling right now, numb.
Rising slowly from his bike, Jensill turned towards the bar to head inside. He was hungry and decided he might as well start scoping out prospects for his next meal. Reaching for the doors handle, Jensill moved to pull it open, when the door swung out suddenly and he had to jump out of the way to be missed by it. It was followed quikely by a man being thrown out the door by two very large and bald bouncers dressed in reflective suites that looked very out of place for the neighborhood and served to make them look like little more than hired thugs.
The drunk hit the ground with an audible thud and let out a small cry as his head bounced off of the pavement. Jensill looked down at the man who seemed to be trying to shake of the sudden dizzyness he was experienceing, and then back up to the bouncers who were standing in the doorway. One of them winked at him with an evil grin on his face and then both men turned back inside allowing the door to close behind them, cutting off vibrant sounds of humanity that had been emitting from it.
Jensill stepped over to where the drunk was half sitting up on the ground and offered his hand to help him up. The drunk looked at him with obvious embarrasment and a touch of anger and shook his head no. Wobbily he stood and as he did said "I can manage on my own, damnit."
"Just trying to help." Jensill replied evenly.
"Yeah? well I didnt ask for your help." snapped the drunk.
"Sorry, my mistake." Jensill turned back towards the bar and was about to go in when he caught the faint but distinct smell of fresh blood being carried through the night air.
Stopping, Jensill closed his eyes to seperate the scent from the rest of the smells that permiated the night air and to get a bareing on it. He truned to his left and found the scent was strongest from that direction. Opening his eyes, Jensill began a quike walk down the street to see if he could find the source. The scent was growing stronger with each step and Jensill could feel the hunger arising in him as he drew closer and closer to it.
He'd gone half a block when he heard a barely audible scremm coming from somewhere in front of him. Speeding up his pace, Jensill walked for another block until the overpowering smell of blood brought him to a stop in front of an alley. The street light above him was dark, as well was the alley, but looking down it he could clearly make out two men down about fifty yards down the trash strewn passageway on the far side of a series of lardge dumpsters. At their feet he could see the legs of another man who was missing a shoe. The body wasn't moving and he knew that whoever it had been, was the source of the scent that had initially attracted him.
Deciding it was not worth his while to involve himself, Jensill was turning to leave when the form of a young woman stepped out from behind the dumpsters. The male figure farthest from him backhanded her so hard that she was knocked back from his vision behind the dumpsters. His acute sense of hearing picked up their conversation and Jensill changed his mind and decided to stay when he heard them.
"You stupid bitch! He didn't have any fucking money...No fucking money!"
"I'm sorry Rocky...I didn't know" Jensill heard her say between sobs.
"Always ask to see the money first you stupid fucking cunt!" Jensill saw that man he'd seen backhand the woman lauch his foot into a low kick which obviously caught her squarely from the cry she issued.
"You worthless fucking Bitch!" He kicked her again, and Jensill felt his anger rising as rapidly as his hunger.
"I'm...sorry..." She was crying now.
Jensill had had enough. He made his way silently down the alley as to not alert his prey. He was going to have fun with these two.
The woman started to rise again when the second man stepped forward and puched her in the face. Jensill heard the snap of bone on bone and guessed that he must have broken her jaw. He was just about to kick the down woman when Jensill stepped up behind then and cleared his throat in a very loud manner.
Both men swung around swiflty and were startled to see Jensill standing so close to them and for them not to have not seen his approach.
"Who the fuck are you?!" It was the one the whore had called Rocky. The surprise was gone from his voice and was replaced by a mixture of anger and the sense of opportunity at maybe being able to rob the new comer.
Jensill Smiled.
"I said, who the fuck are you?" Rocky snarled.
"Nobody special." Jensill replied.
Jensill could see the look of doubt arising in Rocky's eyes, brought on by his non-chalant manner. Jensill could sense his own excitement rising to mix with his rage.
"Yeah, well if you don't want to get hurt, you'll go now."
"No, I don't think I will leave. In fact, I was wondering if you wanted to try on me what you just did to the girl." Jensill knew it was foolish, he should just tear through them and have it over with. But he wanted to play.
"It's your funeral then...friend." Rocky glanced at the large man standing next to him. "Jackie, show this asshole what happens to people who stick their nose in my business."
Jensill glanced to Jackie and in a flash saw a black-jack appear into his hand from out of his jacket sleeve.
Jackie smiled. "Gladly."
Jackie stepped forward with speed belying his size and brought the black-jack down across Jensill's face with a blow that would have downed, if not killed a normal man. As it was, it only staggered him back a step and caused his head to snap over.
Jensill brought his hand up to his face and felt the spot where a bruise was rapidly forming and felt his anger hit it's high point.
"Now, that wasn't very nice was it?" he asked in a quiet but deadly voice. "And I asked of you wanted to try on me what you did to the girl." Jensill took a step towards Jackie. "I didn't see you use that on her."
His hand short out and he caught Jackie's face with it. To his credit, the big man tried to break his grasp, his fists came up and he struck Jensill's arm, and when he realised that he could not dislodged himself, tried to move in to strike Jensill with the black-jack again. The blows struck him on the shoulder and upper arm and Jensill glared evily at Jackie through the fingers that partially covered his eyes. And then, with one firm squeeze, Jensill crushed the bigger mans head.
His skull caved in and Jensill felt his fingers touch each other through a mass of brain, blood and bits of crushed skull. He held the body aloft for a second and then let it drop to the ground with a sickening thud. Lowering his arm to his side, remnants of Jackie dripping from his fingers, Jensill turned to face Rocky.
"Holy Mary mother of God...what the hell are you?"
"Death." Jensill replied. "I am death."
Realizing that he was soon going to join his dead friend, Rocky turned to run but was not fast enough to escape Jensill grabbing the collar of his jacket.
With a minimal amout of strength, Jensill pulled back on the man jerking him from his feet and flinging him into the side of one of the dumpsters. Jensill heard a pop as Rocky collided with the large metal box and his shoulder dislocated. Rocky cried out and tried to get up, but Jensill was on top of him in a flash pinning him to the ground.
"No...please man...I have.." That was all he got out before Jensill reached up again and tore Rocky's jaw off. Blood sprayed all over and was now flowing freely from the dying mans face.
"You were saying something...you were going to make me an offer?" Jensill said in a low menacing voice. Gurgling noices came from where Rocky's face had been and his eyes were full of terror.
"Oh, you were finished? I guess it wasn't that important then was it?"
Jensill brought his hand up to Rocky's throat and tore out his esophagus. Rocky died instantly and his head slumped forward in a bloddy mess.
As he stood, Jensill heard a gurgled gasp, and turned to see the young prostitute staring at him in a horrified manner.
Jensill stood and steped towards her. The girl cowered away from him, but with her back to the wall she had no where to go. He moved right up to her side and knelt down beside her. Tears began running freely down her bruised face but she could not take her eyes away from the grisly figure that loomed over her. Raising his hand to the side of her face, Jensill wiped away a tear that was running down her badly bruised cheek.
"PPP.Please don't kill me." She whispered.
"What's your name?"
"Rachel.."
"How old are you Rachel?" He asked.
"Ff..fifteen.."
Jensill sighed inwardly. So young, and probaly very pretty under the bruises and all of the make-up, and already her young life had turned to this. Jensill felt his anger subside and he found himself feeling sorry for the girl. He knew that he should probably kill her, he neeeded to feed, and he couldn't afford to leave any witnesses, but he could not bring himself to do it. For the first time in a long time he cared, and he didn't know why.
"Mister..." Her voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Are you going to kill me?"
Jensill smiled, which he was sure was more horrifying than reassuring.
"No, I am not going to kill you. But I need to use you though..." He paused and the look of terror returned to her face.
"No, it's nothing like that." he said softly. "Do you have somewhere I can go to clean this mess off?"
Rachel nodded her head dumbly and Jensill smiled. He stood up and helping her slowly, stood her up. She pointed further down the alley.
"I have a place down there..It's not much but it's mine."
Jensill nodded and helped the girl walk in the direction that she pointed.

********

An hour later, after he had cleaned Rachel up and put her to bed and then showered himself, Jensill was dressing when he felt the girls eyes on his back. He turned to face her as she sat up in the bed.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Probably about as well as I look." She replied. They both smiled for a moment and he returned to dressing.
"How did you get involved in all of this?"
Rachel looked at him a moment and tried to judge the sincerity of his question.
"I ran away from home." A tear rolled down her cheek. "I'd had a fight with my mother...it was so stupid. I was living on the streets, and I was starving. Then one day Rocky came into my life...and the rest I guess you can figure out."
"How long have you been doing this?"
"Since I was thirteen."
"Would you go home if you could?" he asked.
Rachel began tor sob heavily and the tears rolled down her cheeks. He didnt speak again until she stopped.
"I will take that as a yes." He said stepping closer to the bed. Reaching into his front pocket, Jensill withdrew a large wad of money. He peeled of five one hundred dollar bills and set them on the nightstand beside her. Her eyes opened wide.
"Take that money, and go home. Home to your family, and don't ever look back at any of this."
Rachel lowered her head and began to cry again, through her tears she said thank you in a very quiet voice.
"This is probably the only second chance you will ever get. Take it and leave, because if I see you again...I will take that chance back."
Rachels head shot up but when she looked, Jensill was gone. She got up and looked around the room, but the only trace that he had been there was a wet towel and the money on the nightstand.


Jensill threw his leg over his bike and sat down. He could see the lights from the police cruisers and ambulances reflecting off the walls of the building down the street. A large crowd had gathered to witness the bodies being taken away and if he could have, he would have felt his stomach turn.
"So preoccupied with death, and yet they are all so afraid of it." He said aloud.
He fired up his bike, and pulling away from the curb, headed off into the night to take care of his own growing needs....and to think.

((great post jensill... how morbid and screwed up.

((wow! That was really good Jensill... thank you :smile:

((wow amazing. wow.

((OK, PLEASE, IF YOU READ THIS BEFORE, READ IT WITH THE CORRECTIONS, WHICH IT NEEDED. :smile: ))



He'd been riding for nearly an hour when he finally stopped for some gas. Pulling into the well lit Texico/mini-mart, Jensill rolled the black thundering bike to a halt in front of one of the pumps and killed it.
A paper slip was taped to the pump and when he glanced over to read it, he felt his already high irritation grow.

'Credit Card Service out of order, please pay inside.'
-Thank You-

Glancing at the other multitude of pumps he realized that similar signs had been taped to all of them. Jensill growled in frustration. It wasn't that he was really angry over the credit card system being down, it was just one more small thing that didn't seem to be going his way tonight.
He'd hoped it was going to be a simple and uneventful night, which he'd needed after having awoken in the manner in which he had, and then with the deaths of the pimp and his hired muscle. He'd also admonished himself for not having tried to accertain the identity of the dead john and did so as the thought occured to him again.
Jensill really didn't give a damn who the guy was, it didn't really matter. He was as dead as were the worthless shitbags that had sent him into the after life.
"It does matter dumb-ass, they could tie him to the girl." He said aloud to himself.
He certainly didn't know why he felt anything for her. He had given her a second chance at life, for reasons still unknown to himself, and wether she chose to act on it or not was entierly her decision. He meant to keep his promise of killing her if he saw that she had not taken his words or actions to heart. But for some reason he sincerely hoped that it never came to that.
He tried to picture her getting on a bus back to po-dunk nowhere, and that she would have a happy reunion with her family. But every time he tried his thoughts came back to the two men he had slain. He wasn't even sure if he should refer to them asn having been men, they were really just a pair of parasites that were leeching of mans darker nature and the innocence of young women. Still, there was something in their deaths that brought his thoughts back to them continuously.

Bringing his mind back to the present Jensill stood up off of the bike and turned towards the mini-mart to pay for his gas. He could see that the clerk was openly stareing at him from behind the counter as he approached, he didn't find that odd considering that he must have been sitting on his bike at the pumps for the last several minutes. The young Arabic man must have been wondering whether or not he was debating on how and if he was going to pay for the gas.
His apperance wasn't bad, but he doubted it inspired any kind of confidence. He had forgone the wearing of any well tailoered clothes in the last few weeks and had opted to return to primarily black leather garments with little color showing anywhere else. He was wearing sunglasses at 10 oclock at night and just generally looked road worn, but that was due to his hasty cleaning of his clothes and feeling worn out from his own hunger.
Jensill pulled the door open and was immediately assaulted by the overpowering scent of pinesaule. Steppimg through the door he heard the customery metalic chime of the motion sensor that sounded for employees that might be away from the counter go off, he couldn't help but think how much he hated those damn things.
Wanting only to get in and right back out, Jensill headed straight for the check out counter with a twenty dollar bill in hand. A tingling sensation shot down his spine as he walked across the floor.
When he looked up at the young and dark complected man, he got a strange sense that something was out of place. Something also unerved him about the greeting he recieved and the hardly masked tension and fear in the boy's voice. He knew his warning bells should be going off, he just didnt know why.
"G-Good evening s-sir. How can I help you?"
And then he figured out what it was. The air conditioner was running and the place must have been about 70 degrees, but the boy was sweating, and bad. Not knowing what he was now fully into, Jensill decided that he'd better feel situation out some, but fast.
"Gas on pump five....and a pack of Marlboro Reds in a box."
Jensill kept his eyes intently on the clerks as he passed him the twenty across the counter.
"Will th-that be all for you?"
And then the clerks eyes glanced diagonaly down to his left. Jensill knew that someone was behind the counter with him. And who ever it was, certainly wasn't there on a social call.
"Yeah, just put ten on the pump.."
"That'll be.." the total came up on the diplay. "$13.72...outta twenty."
When he slid his hand across the counter, Jensill saw the clerk point his index finger towards a place away and behind him into a dead area of his vision because of its concealment by the rows of merchandise. That meant that there was one but possibly two or more.
He couldn't believe this. Of all of the damn gas stations in the whole damn city, he had to pick the one that was being held up. It figured though, wit the way that everything else was going, it fit perfectly.
With his mind back into his current situation Jensill thought to himself that it was probably only the two of them, one to do the robbery, and one to act as a look out. They had probably just been getting started as he'd come to a stop at the pump. His having sat outside must have really screwed their concept of a grab and dash, and it probably wasn't helping them either that he'd had to come inside to pay because the credit system was down. They were going to be very anxious, and in their aggitated state..more than willing to pull the trigger right about now. He had to drawn the one behind the counter out before he could handle the one behind him. Problem was, he was standing to close to the counter and it was elevated to high for him to just see over.
"You know what? I think I might grab a soda..."
No sonner had Jensill said the words and turned into the direction of the refridgerators that the assailant behind the counter exploded up. Pushing the clerk out of from his way, a young blonde haired teen swung a sawed off, pump action shotgun up and over the counter, and brought it to bear on him. But he was not nearly fast enough.
Jensill's own hand shot into his jacket, and as he turned around, pulled the weapon free and brought his own sites down on the robber. Jensill squeezed of three shots that took the young man squarely in the chest knocking him back.
What happened next he could not have see coming at the time, and that was the young robbers weapon arm swung away and pulled off a shot that had taken the clerk in the abdomen.
His whole bloody abdomen was scattered across the display counter behind him, and what was left from a point blank shot gun blast was not much to look at. All that Jensill knew at the time, was that both men were dead before they hit the ground.
Jensill heard a cry from behind him and swung around just in time to see the second robber emerging from an aisle less than ten feet from him with a small caliber pistol in his hands. The man was moving to fast, and was not aiming his gun well enough while in a run, his only shot passed by Jensill several feet to his right.
Even with his kindred reflexes Jensill was only able to bring the pistol around and fire off two rounds before his attacker ran into him. The first round took his attacker in the shoulder, and the .44 slug nearly severed the arm off. The second round hit hit him in between his collar bones and removed a large chunk of his back muscles and spine as it exited out of the body.
The dead man bounced harmlessly off of him and as his feet came out from under him, he hit the ground with a sickening and squishy sound and made a nasty mess of the once white tile floor.
Jensill stood silently for a moment as timed seemed to catch up and he wearily looked around at the carnage in the store. It was a mess.
Although it was a dramatic effect of his mind, everywhere Jensill looked was awash in bright crimson blood. His mind focused on the reality of the situation and he felt almost saddened by it, escpecially the young clerks.
The deaths, although meaningless to him were senseless. He was a preditor by nature, but this served no purpose. And now, he'd allowed himself to remain distracted, which just didn't happen, and the second robber had nearly surprised him. Any slower and he could have been in for more trouble than he'd been prepared for.
Jensill stepped back towards the counter and looked down at the dead man there. His face was splattered with his own blood, his eyes open and full of terror as they looked blanky at a rack that contained adult magazines.
Jensill looked down at the name tag on the kids chest.
"Sorry, Ali, but they probably would have killed you anyway."
He decided at that point that it would be in his best intrests to vacate the premesis and to get moving as fast as possible. He knew he still neeeded the gas but could not chance being caught when the cops eventually showed up. He retrieved his twenty from the counter and the cigarettes and was again turned to the door when he remembered the survalliance cameras.
Stepping quickly around the counter he checked for the recording machines and came up empty. His next thought was the office, which proved succesful when he found three machines hooked up to television monitors. He noticed that all three of them seemed to have good angles on the store, which meant that all of them had caught a piece of the action that had gone down.
Hurridly, Jensill removed the tapes from all three machines, and slid the micro cassettes in to his pocket. Turning now with the purpose to get away fast, Jensill turned and ran out the door to his bike.
It fired to life with a loud rumble and Jensill pulled away from the gas station and back into the cities dark streets.
"This night just seems to get better and better by the hour." He thought to himself.
Checking his tank, Jensill decided that he had enough gas to go home. And at this point he wanted nothing more than to do just that. His hunger still knawed at him horribly, but he decieded it could wait until he could order some delivery.




((ok, corrections completed, or those that I am doing to this part. Sorry about the mess that it had been.))

[ This Message was edited by: Jensill Black on 2002-03-14 09:36 ]