The world slipped away around her. Her hands were rubber as she hopelessly tried to escape the choke hold. He didn't let up. It was like falling asleep, only a whole lot more painful. Her head would explode soon – an excruciating, inescapable eventuality. The darkness at the edge of her vision hemmed in closer, eventually blanketing her.
She woke up to the intense scent of smelling salts and immediately rolled away, flipping into a defensive position. Fifteen years of martial arts classes had bred in her a visceral abhorrence to feeling vulnerable and out of control. She glared at her martial arts instructor as she organised her thoughts, tensing her muscles in case of an attack. Most times her instructor wouldn't give her time to recover, and she'd taught herself to be ready for that. He didn't move toward her this time. She straightened up and smiled.
He grimaced.
This was going to be fun.
No use being taught what you couldn't practise.
Half an hour later, Jeisa's strawberry and cream shampoo fragrance heavily perfumed the dissipating shower steam that followed her out of the gym showers. She was soon pulling her mostly dry hair into a loose ponytail, pleased to see that the few silver strands that streaked through the walnut brown were well hidden. It was always weird trying to explain why she was going grey at twenty-two. Even weirder was trying to explain why these strands weren't just plain grey but had a noticeable metallic glimmer to them and, to those who looked close and long enough, neon white arcs pulsing from the grey roots to tips every few minutes. But she wasn't "going grey". She'd possessed those grey strands and the specks of metallic grey in her honey brown eyes from birth.
She pulled on a pair of fitting black cargos, a black tee, and a slim-fit black bomber jacket with more zips than it needed, most of them asymmetrical, then looked at her phone. She was going to be late if she didn't move faster. She finished her look with a pair of black combat boots, tucking the ends of her pants into them before strapping the laces tight. But she didn't immediately stand up, even though she could feel the weight of every passing second.
She eventually forced herself to her feet.
"Bye, Coach," Jeisa said, finally making it out of the locker room.
The imposing, six foot five, middle aged dad of four pointed at the permanent marker butterflies tattooed on his face. "You're going to pay for this."
Jeisa gave him a cheeky smirk. He was never going to let her practise the chokehold on him ever again.
"Google says that makeup remover will have it fading in about two days." Jeisa replied, hitching her duffel bag higher onto her shoulder.
"Right after my class with the ten-year-old girls," Coach replied darkly. "The most vicious of all humans in existence."
"Dibs on your custom belt display holder after your untimely demise from their soul crushing teasing!" Jeisa laughed as she walked out of the dojo and towards her old white truck.
The truck was a gift from her dad for her eighteenth birthday, kept in excellent condition by her mechanical engineer friends and favourite couple, Krystle and Kyle. It was massive and nothing more than a gas guzzler, but she absolutely loved driving it around.
The sun dipped past the horizon and the biting chill that followed declared an earlier than usual arrival of autumn. The warm air pouring from the truck's vents was a welcome reprieve, but not for long. Jeisa pulled into a parking lot a couple of blocks from the convenience store. As she walked over to the convenience store, she stuck to the cold, impassive shadows that purged all emotion from her while simultaneously ratcheting up her nerves and flooding her blood with adrenaline. All the while, she carefully watched the buildings and streets she walked by.
Her dad once explained that Wraith Hamlet was an "impossible town" that was built overnight. He said that no other place like this existed on the planet. Three decades ago, it was an actual hamlet – a tiny, mostly unknown rural village with four public buildings on its main street, all flanked by a scattering of farmhouses that were miles apart. According to her dad, a shadowy group of insanely rich shareholders began to pour money into Wraith Hamlet, transforming it into the miniature metropolis that now boasted several skyscrapers, a great smattering of low-rise buildings between them, a sprawl of suburban housing and even a private college, completely changing that quaint, backwater village for good.
This upgrade included the creation of a Warehouse District, which is where Jeisa was. What many of the warehouses had been used for was long since forgotten, but these days, this was the low-income side of Wraith Hamlet that most of the people who lived in this town pretended didn't exist, yet depended upon in ways they couldn't wish away no matter how much they wanted to. The corner store that Jeisa was walking towards was just one of the small businesses that kept this place alive, providing important groceries to those who lived here at reasonable prices.
But, as with most of the ground buildings in these old warehouses, this little shop was a front. It was just one door to the independent, underground town that span the length and width of the warehouse district. A haven for chaos, anarchy, cruelty, and explicit debauchery, this underground world was allowed to exist only because it kept the evil hidden away from the light that was the rest of Wraith Hamlet. But sometimes, that evil would bleed into the world above and touch the lives of innocents. It was then that Jeisa would step in, under her father's guidance and instructions, pushing the darkness back into the shadows, keeping the light untainted.
That was Jeisa's purpose.
She donned a black gaiter scarf with a blood red skull jaw motif, pulled it up to cover her face below her eyes and walked into the convenience store, nodding to the cashier whose eyes went wide before he nodded back. She then walked to the back of the convenience store, pushed aside one of the refrigerators and walked into a hole in the wall before sliding the refrigerator back into place. Jeisa fought her way into the badly lit bowels of this underworld, putting down anyone foolish enough to challenge her, and eventually finding the woman she'd been seeking. The woman was hiding just a few rooms past the one directly under the convenience store.
"The Red Dragon was a courtesy." Jeisa said.
The woman turned to face Jeisa.
She was a middle-aged woman, well put together, wearing a gorgeous black frock cinched wonderfully at her waist, with golden embroidery and embellishments along the long sleeve arms and around the flared hem. Her luscious, shoulder long dark hair was parted in the centre and pinned to the back. If Jeisa didn't know what this woman was guilty of, she'd have seen nothing but a lovely grandma. Jeisa lowered her gaiter scarf.
"You're the Enforcer?" the woman sneered upon seeing Jeisa's face.
"I usually insist that we extend the Red Dragon courtesy to those we target because I believe that everyone deserves the chance to make a different choice when it is pointed out that they're making the wrong one." Jeisa continued. "My father indulges me, but he believes that leopards can't change their spots. I'm still waiting for just one of our targets to prove me right."
The woman laughed. "
"That's because it does. We always have a choice."
"Let me ask you something. Why did you make the choice to come here? Do you really think that you'll change the world? That you're some sort of superhero?"
Jeisa moved fast, taking the woman by surprise as she smashed into her with a knee to the sternum, grabbed the woman's head, swivelling into the momentum, and snapping the woman's neck. As the lifeless body fell to Jeisa's feet, she sighed.
"No. Superheroes tie up the bad guys for the police to arrest." Jeisa said.
In these assignments, there was rarely that expected feeling of relief and victory at having rid the planet of another malevolent leech, which just left Jeisa feeling disappointed. As she stood outside the convenient store, replacing the tepid underground air with deep breathes of the deliciously brisk, crisp, fresh evening autumn air, Jeisa's eyes fell on a flyer stuck to a streetlamp. It was a call for Forest Service volunteers. The Aquiline Park woodlands were a Wraith Hamlet institution, one of the most pristine natural spaces in the region, jealously guarded and maintained by the Wraith Hamlet denizens. Jeisa ripped the flyer off the streetlamp, folded it up neatly and pushed it into her jacket pocket.
A glance at her phone told her that she'd completed her assignment faster than she'd scheduled, but she wasn't ready to go home yet. She walked to her car, put it in gear, drank in the warm air flooding the cabin, then decided to drive to her favourite hangout spot at this time. She packed the truck under a broken streetlamp and let the radio keep her company as she watched the street across from her. This was where she did her people watching, a hobby she indulged in as much as her schedule would let her. She was as nocturnal as those she watched, especially when she had an assignment to complete.
Jeisa wasn't under any illusion about the subjects of her observation, being of the opinion that the whole "Pretty Woman" thing was a bit of a farce – fictional wishful thinking and escapism rather than reality. Theirs was a job like any other. They didn't need someone coming in to "save" them. Especially not in the last couple of years, after Manuel and his friends started their Shadow Van service. They kept those working the streets safe from creeps and provided the panel van bedrooms for services if needed. It was an admirable service by Manny and his boys, made even more endearing when one realised that it was a voluntary service ran by Manny who's mother worked the streets and whom he'd protected from the summer he hit his growth spurt at fifteen, while his mother made sure he studied to the point of getting his Master's degree without accruing a single cent of debt.
Jeisa mentally ticked off the roster of regulars, expanding on the imaginary backstories that she'd given each one. The busty, thick, blonde she'd named "Rhonda" was in a rainbow tie and dyed micro-mini with a slit to her hip and matching bra, ending the look with a cropped denim jacket and baby blue platform stilettos that matched the jacket. Rhonda was on the phone, smiling as she spoke. Jeisa imagined that it was her birthday tomorrow and she was booking a massive cake for a fun party at her place. "Desiree's" gorgeous, ebony black skin was glowing tonight, despite the awful street lighting. She was in a nothing but a burgundy leotard and a black jacket that barely covered her exposed cheeks, with a faux-fur collared hoodie. She'd finished the look with black, thigh high stiletto boots. What was her story tonight? Was it...
A hard rap against Jeisa's window broke her concentration, almost giving her a heart attack.
Jeisa looked out at a girl tapping her passenger window, slightly shaking in the chill night air. She was trying not to shake. Trying and failing. The simple, body hugging, deep blue sheath dress she wore was a poor shield against the cold, even with the black knee-high leather boots that reached above her knees. Jeisa hadn't seen this girl here before. What was her story? Jeisa lowered the passenger window and stared at the diamond face of the girl, topped with long jet-black hair held back in a quick ponytail.
The chilly autumn night air poured into the warm cabin of Jeisa's car. With it came this deep, warm earthy, nutty fragrance of honey with a light touch of spice to it that Jeisa had never experienced outside of the freshly harvested honeycomb that was sometimes purchased at the restaurant she worked at most evenings. This girl smelt like desert and looked even better with her slightly dishevelled ponytail, intense gaze, and full lips. Jeisa had never done this before, but she was going to take this girl home.
Or just take her right there in the truck.
Damn, Jeisa knew she felt a little off tonight, but was she really that messed up after tonight's assignment?
She'd never once thought of another living human being in such a detached, self-serving way.
Was she finally losing herself?
The girl outside looked shocked for a second as the window slowly rolled down and her eyes fell on Jeisa, but that didn't last as her face quickly glazed over into blank indifference.
"I don't do girls." she said with a shrug before walking away, without giving Jeisa a chance to respond.
Jeisa was still slightly mortified at her salacious thoughts as she rolled the window back up, but that didn't stop the tinge of heartbreak that washed over her at the girl's rejection. There was also another thought that streaked through her mind. Jeisa knew this dark world and had been out here people watching for a few years now. That girl definitely didn't work the streets. So, what was she doing out here pretending to? And why was she walking up to cars hidden in the shadows, a fair distance away from the safety of Manny's view?
With a quick gear shift, Jeisa began to drive away with every intention of going home. Maybe some sleep would do her good. However, only having driven a few streets away, she slowed down and parked next to the street's curb, then looked around as she stepped out of her truck.
This street was darker and grungier than the one she'd just left. But Jeisa was riled up tonight, feeling lost and anxious and just generally off. She looked around the empty street again, knowing she was being watched from the mucky windows cladding the buildings she was looking at. This part of the Warehouse district looked and smelt much older than a mere three decades, as if this place existed in its own space and time continuum – aging, degrading, and devolving many times faster than the rest of Wraith Hamlet.
Jeisa narrowed her eyes at one of the windows, thinking she saw something shift beyond the grunge. Maybe someone would try and steal her truck and make her night. Give her a chance to work off this disquieting negative energy that hang off her. A girl could only hope.
She loped back to the street she'd been watching and was just in time to see another white pick-up truck driving up and parking at the same exact spot that Jeisa's truck had stood only minutes ago. Jeisa watched the girl from her window walk to this new white truck. That blue sheath dress hugged her curves beautifully. She was almost as tall as Jeisa. Probably five seven. Her voluminous midnight-coloured hair reached for her tailbone even in that messy high ponytail and Jeisa couldn't stop her mind from conjuring up the image of that jet-black curtain spread out on the stark white pillowcase of her fluffy pillows.
There wasn't exactly a plan for what Jeisa was thinking of doing, but as she'd jogged over from her truck, she'd been thinking of just watching the girl for a bit, like she usually did with the others. Maybe she could even come up with an imagined name and story for her too, adding her to the mental street roster, even though it was clear that this girl didn't belong here. There obviously couldn't be anything between Jeisa and the girl, but that was alright. Jeisa's life didn't allow for anything to exist between them, or with anyone else, anyway.
The driver of the white truck stopped and rolled down his window for the girl. Jeisa leaned back on the brick wall of the building behind her, happy to melt into the darkness around her. She watched her girl work, swallowing her unreasonable jealousy and ready to avert her gaze to the regulars right after the girl agreed to the driver's terms and got into the car's cabin. But Jeisa couldn't take her eyes off the girl, even as she slid into the truck's cabin. When they drove away to an alley close by, Jeisa followed in the shadows.
Jeisa suddenly stopped herself from moving closer to the truck, chastising herself because she was being way too creepy at this point. But before she walked away and back to her life, she saw the silhouette of the truck's driver grab the girl in the passenger seat, pinning her underneath him with one hand and using the other to unbuckle his belt.
Jeisa took a step towards the truck then stopped again.
"Not my circus, not my monkeys!" Jeisa whispered, her heartbeat breaking land speed records and her jaws clamping together so tightly that she was afraid she'd soon be spitting out calcium sand from how hard she was gritting her teeth.
Not my circus! Not my monkeys!
The mantra played over and over through Jeisa's mind, but it was as if her feet were disconnected from her brain, because she watched herself arriving at the truck's driver door and yanking it open. Warm air rushed at Jeisa, as if the heavy odor of old sweat, cigarette smoke and stale beer was trying to push her away in admonishment to mind her own business. Jeisa had to give the guy some credit. He'd made some Cirque du Soleil moves, with the way he'd twisted the girl onto her stomach in that small cabin space while having undone his belt and pushed his pants just low enough.
Jeisa grabbed the scruff of the man's hoodie underneath a well-worn leather jacket and the man's pants' waistband, leveraging herself against the door and jerking him out of the car. The man quickly recovered and rushed at Jeisa, hitting her square in the chest with his shoulder, forcing most of the air out of her lungs and slamming her into the car. Her right hand smashed into the truck's steering wheel with a sharp sting. The engine was still running. His mistake. Jeisa usually held them back, but as she lifted her left hand to arm block the man's right hook, she let the microscopic tentacle-like fibres work their way past the fingers of her right hand, onto the steering wheel, and into the car's electronics.
The explosion of the truck's engine was thunderclap sharp in the quiet night, compounded by echoes ricocheting off the alleyway's walls into the night! The resulting engine fire had the man flinging himself away.
What a rush!
Jeisa let the energy flow through her, biting back the hysterical laughter crawling up her throat. How long had it been since she'd sparked? Way too long, that's how long. She was giddy. Almost delirious. The smell of burning electronics was intoxicating. The power seeping into her was exhilarating. It worked its way through her, pooling at her chest and then slowly dipping down to her stomach. Lower. Her navel. Brushing just past her navel.
She forced herself to disconnect from the truck, and sucked in a deep, steadying breath. This was not the right place or time.
Jeisa turned to the girl in the blue dress, struggling to think through the sudden chaos that was her mind, and gently helped the girl out of the burning truck.
The girl shrugged away Jeisa's hands and walked over to the driver who was trying to get back on his feet. She kicked him squarely on the jaw, keeping him down, grabbed his wallet, took out a couple of bills then tossed his wallet back at him. She then walked back to the burning truck, pulled open the passenger door, plunged her hand into the glove box and grabbed a large, holstered pistol.
Jeisa's eyes went wide as the girl slid the piece out of its holster. It was a freaking Desert Eagle! And not just any Desert Eagle. It was a titanium gold Desert Eagle. A gorgeous golden yellow semi-automatic pistol with a black rubber grip handle. Jeisa's dad was a massive fan of guns, owning a small basement arsenal himself, so she knew for a fact that there were only a few hundred of these guns in the world.
The girl put the gun back in its holster then walked away from the burning truck.
"I didn't need your help!" the girl said, standing angrily in front of Jeisa.
Jeisa wasn't sure how to answer. She'd intervened, but she was actually pissed off at herself that she had. Even more, it disturbed her. This night was a complete mess. She was unravelling and that was dangerous. In the light of the flames, Jeisa noticed that the girl's eyes were a solid green and a tiny touch wide, which complimented the jet-black silky locks beautifully. Focusing on the girl pushed away the other worrying thoughts.
"Well, I saw you first." Jeisa finally answered, giving the girl a little shrug.
"What is this? Kindergarten?" the girl replied, her voice strained. Her scowl barely marred the flawless look that was her slightly pronounced angular cheekbones, slim straight edged nose with a touch of aquiline and thin lips. "Besides, like I said before, I don't do chicks."
She walked away from Jeisa and back towards the main road. A door behind Jeisa slammed open and out rushed a man carrying a fire extinguisher, using it to douse the burning truck.
"What the hell?" the man yelled at Jeisa.
She pointed at the still knocked out driver. "Call the cops. Tell them to search his car."
Jeisa hadn't missed the heavy dusting of white powder on the man's dash when he'd smashed her into the truck's cabin. She walked out of the alley and took the same direction as the girl, which also happened to be the direction her own truck was parked. A few steps ahead of her, the girl had a slight tremble and goose bumps were just visible on her bare arms in the blurry light of the streetlamps. She hugged the gun to her torso.
Jeisa took off her jacket, caught up with the girl and handed it to her. The girl slipped it on without breaking her stride. The crisp night air helped cool Jeisa down. She always ran a bit hot after a good spark. She shut her eyes for a moment as they continued walking and took a deep breath. She smiled at the realisation that the girl's rich, earthy, honey scent would be all over her jacket. Jeisa quickly opened her eyes as that thought cheekily whizzed and ricocheted against the walls of her mind, taunting her to try and stop it, a fight she hopelessly lost.
"What is it that you want? Who are you?" the girl finally asked, breaking the silence between them. "Or are you one of those people? The ones who think "Pretty Woman" was a documentary and insist on telling me how you can save me and help me do something better with my life?"
Jeisa didn't immediately answer, making them walk in awkward silence for a few more steps.
"I'm an assassin," Jeisa finally said. Wow! She had not meant to say that and had no idea why she'd blurted it out. Or why more ill-advised words just kept pouring out of her. "About an hour ago, I killed a dope dealer who was grooming high school girls for her trafficking ring and getting away with it."
The girl slowed down, turned to look at Jeisa with narrowed eyes. She gave Jeisa a slow smile before she threw her head back and laughed a full, belly moving laugh. Jeisa grinned then chuckled awkwardly.
"I thought you were serious for a second there. Gotta give it to you, that was the weirdest pickup line thrown at me so far," the girl said, wiping a tear from her eye. Then, still smiling, she added, "I still don't do chicks."
Jeisa's grin widened. What she wanted to reply with was, 'The woman doth protest too much, methinks.', but instead, she said, "Are you reminding me, or yourself?"
The girl raised a brow and scoffed.
"Why are you following me?" she asked.
"I'm just walking in the same direction you are, at the same pace." said Jeisa. "Not following you."
They kept walking for a little while, eventually turning off the street where Jeisa's truck was still parked. All the wheels were still there and there was not even a single scratch on it. Oh well, maybe next time. After all that excitement a few minutes ago, the night was aggressively still and loudly silent. Jeisa got into her car and opened the passenger door. The girl in the blue dress slid into the cabin like it was the most natural action. Jeisa started the engine and pointed most of the vents to the girl as the warm air poured through.
They didn't speak.
The girl relaxed into the passenger seat. She was clearly still shaken up from before, but she was keeping her cool, trying to breathe evenly and holding back whatever emotions were fighting to rush off her. They sat there for a while, both just breathing and being. Jeisa finally pulled out of the parking spot and started driving, no real destination in mind. She just drove. The gentle motion had the girl falling asleep against the passenger door before long.
Jeisa found a small park where she finally parked. She stared at the orange pink tinge in the horizon that was working to chase away the inky blue black of the night sky. She wasn't sleepy. Not after sparking like that. No. She wouldn't sleep tonight. She probably wouldn't sleep the following night either. Maybe not even the night after that. She had never let herself go that far, and the closest she'd come to it had always been under the strict supervision of her father in very controlled conditions. The experiments had stopped a few years ago. Her father had asked her not to meld with any machine after that. This was the first time since then that Jeisa had.
She should have felt guilty.
She didn't.