spin_kick_snap: (Sleepy)
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The teen feinted left, then dove right. Kathy followed, changing direction in mid-air, tackling him again. She latched on to his backpack and tried to bite through the canvas. Crying but unaware of it, the boy unsnapped the straps, letting bag and ex fall. Inside, Kathy could hear cans tumbling around, food, supplies. But she wasn't interested in those, even though she was hungry. Starving. All she could think about was eating. And her target, her focus was this boy, this teen, struggling to get away from her. He was hungry, too. She could tell from the thinness of his cheeks, the way his clothes hung on his frame. But he was willing to lose all the cans of food in the bag in an attempt to escape her.

She hit the ground, discarding the bag of food and bounced back up to her feet. The teen had run a few hundred yards the first time she jumped at him. This time, he barely got fifty before she was on him again. "No," he begged. "You don't understand. I have a little sister, she needs me..."

He was right. Kathy didn't understand. All she understood was hunger. She craned her head and bit into Eli's neck, pulling away a mouthful of skin and flesh and blood. He screamed, a high-pitched sound like a rabbit in a snare, but she didn't care. She only cared about the hunger. Another bite, fresh blood forming new stains on the white gi. The bites came faster as the scream gurgled to an abrupt stop and Kathy hunkered over the body, holding it fast even after its struggles ceased...




Kathy flung herself upright in bed, gasping for breath, shaking her head in hopes of dislodging the last images of the dream. No, memory. It was too real, to vividly detailed to be a dream. She was starting to learn the distinctions between the two. Like how memories were always worse.

Glancing at her clock, she saw that it was almost one, but the adrenaline threading through her veins wouldn't let her get back to sleep anytime soon. She thought about doing a couple of laps around the island to try to tire herself out and get a few more hours of rest but honestly? It rarely ever seemed to work. Neither did vegging out in front of the TV until dawn, or soaking in a hot bath with a book. The problem was, none of those activities were good at giving her what she was looking for: a chance to get out of her own head, to forget those things her brain was forcing her to remember. Maybe she should call Anders? He'd said to call if she needed to talk--but no. It was late, he'd possibly be in bed, and she didn't want to talk, she wanted to do.

The lights over the water from Baltimore caught her eye through the window and she shoved her blankets out of the way. Maybe that was what she needed, a trip into the city. Boston hadn't done much for her state of mind, but she'd managed to sleep every night. The bars would be closing soon, but she knew of a couple of after-hour clubs she could get into. With the pounding beat, music loud enough to deafen, and a crowd of bodies to get lost in, Kathy might finally find a way to drown out her thoughts even if she couldn't shut them up.

[Warning for zombie-typical violence to a teen under the cut.]

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 07:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
From her spot on the sidewalk, Jewels could see the front doors of not one but two bars. In a half hour, they'd close and people would come streaming out, drunk and stupid and fairly adventurous. Maybe a little turned on after a night of flirting or unhappy at the prospect of going home alone. Any of those scenarios were just fine by Jewels. She was a working girl and drunks were by far the easiest clients she had. Some of them just ended up rambling for an hour or so and paid her for that, so long as she pretended to listen and offer a few words of comfort and sympathy about how their wives didn't understand them/work didn't appreciate them/kids didn't respect them.

The unexpected warmth of the day had her relaxing just a little bit. Her torn fishnets and plether mini were practically a uniform, telling even the drunkest john what she was which was good for business, but no so much for keeping warm. The cold kept her sharp; her attention drawn by even the least movement in case it meant a potential customer and a chance to get off the street. Tonight, however Jewels let herself drop her guard a bit and appreciate the unseasonable warmth.

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 07:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
Which was all the opening the mugger needed, really. Darting out from between the buildings, he grabbed onto Jewel's gaudy blue alligator-skin purse, yanking it off her arm and firmly into his grasp.

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 07:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
"Hey!" Jewels yelped, trying to grab for the strap and missing. Most of her money was stashed into her calf-length boots, but there was still enough in there (not to mention her stash of condoms and lube), that she didn't want to lose it. "Motherfucker, give me back my purse!"

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 07:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
Yeah, he wasn't about to lose a fight over a purse with a hooker. The guy clocked her upside the head with the heel of his hand, causing an explosion of pain in her cheek, and then took off down the street with his prize. The hooker started caterwauling up a storm, calling for help, for someone to stop him. He shot a quick look over his shoulder to make sure that no drunk idiot was going to take her up on it.
Edited Date: 2017-02-24 07:44 am (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 07:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
"Bitch!" He didn't have time to argue, going to shove her further out of his way so he could keep running.

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 07:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
The mugger hit the wall with enough momentum to bounce right back off it, forehead knocking against the masonry. He was more surprised then hurt though, staring down at the skinny Asian girl with incredulity. "You some kind of fucking crazy?" he asked, looking down at her.

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 08:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
Hands on his knees, he let the purse drop to the ground. His first priority was remembering hot to breathe. His second priority was to teach this crazy bitch a lesson. A pop upside the head like he'd given the hooker, maybe, or a backhand across the mouth. Something.

His chest finally unlocking a bit, he pushed himself upright and drew back a fist. "You're gonna...wish you didn't..."

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 08:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
Of the few and mostly unsavory skills he possessed, the one he was most proud of was his ability to take a hit. Though this tiny girl packed a surprisingly mean punch, he wasn't about to punk out after a few punches. So, with one hand still tight around his aching nose, he took a swing of his own.

Only to have her practically dance out of the way of it, her high heels clattering out a staccato rhythm on the concrete. But her dodge didn't give him the time to breathe he'd hoped for; a second after his fist sailed through the air where her face used to be, she was back up in his space, aiming a sharp kick to his hip.

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 08:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
Yeah, he wasn't exactly feeling philosophical about how much worse it could have been. He howled in pain, feeling like someone had set off a fire cracker in his left hip.

The next name he called her was even worse as he took yanked his hand away from his nose and flung a palmful of blood directly in her face.

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 08:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
Yo, it creeped him out to see her writhe her way out of the range of his fist. She'd just moved too fast, body too flexible as she bent over backwards to avoid the hit. There was something kinda horror-movie about it, like she was gonna start skittering away like a giant spider next.

Which was why he didn't immediately go for the fourth punch. In retrospect, that proved to be a tactical error.
Edited Date: 2017-02-24 08:42 am (UTC)

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 08:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
"Pretty sure it's you, honey," Jewels said from a few feet away. She'd headed over as soon as they'd started fighting, though her self-preservation instincts has her holding back while punches were being thrown. Now, though, she could move forward, collect her purse, rifle through that asshole's pockets for loose cash or anything else of interest. "Pretty sure most girls don't fight off muggers in a pretty party--Banzai?"

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 08:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
"Nah, nah," Jewels said, her Midwestern twang growing stronger. "You can't fool me, sweetheart. You might not be in a rainbow getup or have your mask, but I saw you! You're fast!"

Jewels hadn't thought much about it at the time, most of their moves were concealed by shadows and hard to make out. She should have, though. Should have realized. Who else would start a fight with a mugger over a hooker's purse.

"I thought you were dead."

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 09:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
"Banzai, please," Jewels pleaded, eyes filling with tears. "Honey, you don't even know. I was so worried about you. And then Dante came and told me that you'd died in some stupid superhero bullshit and--"

(no subject)

Date: 2017-02-24 09:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hollywoodex-tra.livejournal.com
"You think I don't know your voice?" Jewels asked, quietly. "I might never have seen your face, Kathy, but that doesn't mean I can't recognize you."

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