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A new story in the SN series. Justice Slayer. Yeah, I know I've already got another story going. But, this one just popped into my head and I fell in love with the idea. So I hope ya'll love this one as much as the other two. And no this doesn't mean I'm taking a break from Fire and the Furball. Matter-of-fact this one will probably take more time come out then Fire and the Furball. So here you are.
Read. Review. Enjoy.
Wake up tired
Wake
up tired, Monday mornings suck,
It's way too early to catch a
bus,
Why conform without a--
“Shut up.” I groaned into my pillow slamming my hand down on the alarm clock, blindly searching for the button that would turn it off and not put it on snooze. No matter how much I really wanted to. Rolling on to my back I stared up at the ugly orange white coloring of my ceiling. It was early spring but still not early enough for the light shining across my ceiling to not be from the street lamp outside.
It was 5:30 in the am and I had and hour to get ready or I’d miss my bus. Living in New York I didn’t have much need for a car, not that I could afford one on what I made.
Wake up tired, Monday mornings—
“I said. Shut. Up.” I yelled this time flinging the damn clock across the room. “It’s Wednesday.” I barked at the clock now lying in my black beanbag chair blinking the last of its life away for the seventh time this year. Stel was going to be so thrilled. Throwing off my blankets I forced myself out of bed, to start yet another boring day in the life of me, myself and I, a twenty-year-old Sagittarius, with gray green eyes, thick brown hair and a serious distaste for mornings and frozen bagels.
“Shit.” I grumbled at the pack I had forgotten to put in the fridge last night. “Guess I’ll be mooching off Stel. Again.” I sighed as I closed the fridge door.
“Give me all your money and jewelry.” He seethed against my ear. Pushing the knife he had against my back, to show he was armed and serious.
“All right. All right. Just please don’t hurt me.” I cried, my voice heavy with the fear and panic that he might get over eager and stab me as I tried to reach into my bag. “I can’t get it out. You have to give me more room.” I whimpered, sounding utterly pathetic. I wanted to gag at the words as I heard him shuffle behind me, huffing with the indecision of whether to give me the room or not.
“Fine.” He snapped, moving back giving more room then I needed.
Without warning I turned directly on him, the can of mace I’d bought yesterday in hand and now being sprayed right in his face. As he yelled dropping the knife he’d held, I kneed him as I hard as I could between the legs then in the gut. “Asshole.” I yelled as I ran as fast as I could, the rest of my way to work. I wasn’t going to take a chance on him recovering quickly and coming after me.
Just for a recap. This wasn’t the first time a guy had tried to mug me. This was New York after all. However it was the second time this week. And just to fill you in not only was my day not beginning well but neither was my week.
My grandma, the only reliable relative I had that didn’t have a wrap sheet had died nearly a month before. Her funeral had been Saturday and due trouble with the trains I’d missed the ceremony. Once again that was Saturday. Sunday I get a call from my boyfriend now ex. Saying that he’s going to Cali with his band and that he’d be back in a month. If he’s not rich and famous when he gets back, he’ll at least be famous when I throw him off the empire state building.
I can see the headlines now ‘Enraged girlfriend makes human pancake of musician boyfriend ’.
Back to my shitty week, Monday I get mugged and not only does he take my cash, but my best coat. I guess that could be considered a punishment for trying to mace the guy and coming out with and empty can. Hints the new one I’d used today. Tuesday I lose one of my best housekeeping jobs. I’m not even going to hazard a guess why, but I have a sinking feeling the guys wife had something to do with it. And well, you know how my days gone thus far.
Living in New York we aren’t short on thrift shops. And I happen to work in one. Though this one is more like a Good Will crossed with a Salvation Army. Don’t ask me how. I spend most of my day in the back washing, drying and hanging the clothes we get donated. Cause yes, there are people who don’t think to wash the clothes they give away. Gross I know.
“Morning Jus.” Chris our plucky little store manager smiled as I walked in. At about 5’4” and with her plump disposition Chris reminds me more of a grade school teacher then a thrift shop owner that takes donations. And seriously I don’t know what the woman takes that she can smile every morning and keep that happy go lucky attitude all day, but she does.
“Hi Chris.” I nodded, handing her my pack to put in the safe we keep under the counter, which, we kept locked until closing. Fine by me really, I work from open to close most days any way. I’m not a workaholic, it just not cheap to live in New York. “Stel here yet?” I asked.
“In the back.” She nodded toward the curtains, two pieces of thick itchy material that might have at some point been black but were now a faded heavy gray. They stood in the back of the store separating the customer’s walking-space, from the employee’s only.
Nodding my thanks I headed back, wondering how I was I going to tell Stel I’d broke the clock again. Stel…Estelle Tabbs was my best friend and deaf. Though the way she talked you wouldn’t think so. She was also six two with long straight brown hair and limbs equal in proportion to her height. She wasn’t gorgeous or anything like, that but then she wasn’t plain either. She kind walked the line of the two and had one of those auras’s that said ‘Look I don’t bite. But piss me off I know people who do’. Personally I don’t really know if that’s true. But if not she’s still got the aura thing going for her and that’s way cool.
Popping my head through the curtains separating the main store from the back I spotted Stel sitting on the folding table engrossed in her newest fav comic. Not Marvel, or DC, or Topcow. No Stel didn’t read American comics she read Manga and so did I. The evil deaf twerp had gotten me hooked. Starting me with such innocent works as Sailor Moon then reeling me in with more involved versions like Fruits Basket, Mars and Chicago. Oh don’t get me wrong the list goes on. Those are just my personal favs at the moment.
“Hey Justice.” She said before I could take another step. And yes, my name is Justice. Not Justine. Justice. Rather sick irony considering my dad’s in Riker’s and my Mom. Well mom goes wherever her habit takes her. Okay so my family life sucks. My heart bleeds chunky peanut butter.
“What’s that?” I tapped the Manga.
“Sandland.” She said holding it up so I could see the cover.
“Cover art looks familiar.” I remarked.
“It’s by the guy who did the Dragon Ball Comics. It’s pretty funny. Why you so mad?” she asked furrowing her brow, as she looked me up and down. You know what they say about people who are deaf or blind. That they make up for the loss of that sense in other ways. I guess with deaf people reading body language, is a way to make up for not hearing. At least for Stel it was. And I’ll be damned if she couldn’t read mine as clearly as one of her beloved Manga.
“Guy tried to mug me on the way here.” I signed as I grabbing one of the baskets of clean clothes placing them on hangers and then on the rack I’d be unloading in the store, once it was full.
“Again! Did he get anything?” she asked, staring at me wide eyed with shock. Stel was probably the only person I knew who actually feared for my safety. Matter-of-fact she is the only person. Shit I need a life.
“Just a face full of mace.” I shrugged.
“You got no luck Jus.” She shook her head as she went back to her comic. She had no idea. I hadn’t even told her about missing my Grandma’s funeral, or about Malcolm up and leaving. Well I wasn’t too concerned over that one, I’d planned on breaking up with him anyway. Musicians. I also hadn’t told her about my other housekeeping job. Which with the lack there of, was going to make this months rent a little difficult to pay. Wow. Come to think of it I really was unlucky.
“I need to get a rabbit’s foot.” I muttered, pinning the neck of a shirt under my chin as I straightened the sleeves and slid a hanger into it.
“Hey Jus. There’s some lawyer here to see you.” Chris said with a frown looking from me back out to the store where I guess said lawyer was waiting.
Stel and I shared a confused look before I hung the hanger I had in hand back on the rack.
“Shit Jus. You don’t think that muggers trying to sue you for macing him do you?” Stel asked in sign with an idiotic smile. I knew she was joking, I saw the bit of humor in her words. But with my luck the way it had been lately.
“Don’t jinx me.” I signed back to her pulling open the curtains stoning myself for that exact thing. Until I saw the lawyer was a midget. I mean it. I think he only came to about my mid thigh and I had to fight off the urge to stand right next to him and see. He wasn’t bad looking for a guy who barely cut five feet and the little blue pinstripe he was wearing looked pretty sharp on him.
“Miss Cross?” he asked looking up at me, he had dark brown eyes almost black and really short brown hair.
“Yeah, and you are?” Okay so friendly wasn’t my middle name.
“Aiden Trabell.” He raised his hand; practically on instinct I shook it. Remembering almost as soon as I took it to not try and crush it like I did to most men. I didn’t do it because I didn’t like men. I just had an automatic bitch switch that turned on around them. I blame my mother. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“I don’t even know who you’re here for much less why.” I shook my head with a shrug.
“Here for?” he asked.
“You’re not my attorney. So you’re clearly not here for me. ” I explained that seemed to make more since to him then my previous statement.
“Yes, I was grandmother’s attorney.” He spoke turning to a cluttered coffee table that was conveniently at his level. Placing his brief case on it, he flipped back the shiny gold locks and opened it. “Before your grandmother died she had me vow to give this to you.” he said pulling out a small black bag.
“Vow? Why vow? Why not just write it in her will?” I asked as I took the bag. It looked familiar. Then I saw why, there embroidered in the velvet was a wavy six-armed star. “Estolie.” I said to myself as I ran my fingers over the silver colored thread. The bag had belonged to my grandma. She’d kept her most treasured belongings in it. Things that were supposed to be buried with her, things that I thought would be in here when they were buried with her.
“She thought this was too important to go into her will.” He replied as I dumped the bag’s contents into my hand. If she thought it was that important wouldn’t that be more of a reason to put it in her will. I thought. Then thought went out the window. I couldn’t believe what I was holding. On a thin sliver chain woven together with other chains of the same almost thread thin silver was a dark blue stone about the size of my pinky nail, wrapped up in the threads like some ornate spider webbing.
“This is her necklace!” I almost screamed at him. He nodded in response, apparently ignoring my outburst, as he stood there calm and collected watching me stare at the necklace in my hand.
“She wanted you to have it.”
“No, you don’t understand this is her necklace. She never took this thing off. Never. This was supposed to be buried with her.” I exclaimed still not believing what I was holding. “She never let anyone not even my mother, not even me touch this necklace. There were jokes that she’d die before she parted with it.” I stopped thinking on my last statement. “Guess that’s really wasn’t a joke anymore.”
“No, it isn’t. And I’m well aware of you grandmother’s connection with this necklace.” He said almost irritated by the fact. “Still she wanted you to have it and this.” he said pulling a small envelop from his brief case. “This should explain her reasoning.” Then looked back to the coffee table his brief case was sitting on. “How much for the table?” he asked, it took a few seconds before his words finally came through. I shook off the daze I was fighting.
“Dah, ten bucks.” He nodded approvingly, fishing into his pocket he pulled out a small black leather wallet, there was some impression in the leather but I didn’t have time to make it out before he handed me the ten.
“Could I have it picked up tomorrow?” he asked, I nodded as he leaned over and waving to Stel and Chris. “Good-day Ladies. Miss Cross.” He nodded then left.
“What was that about?” Chris asked sounding a bit concerned as she looked between the door and me.
“He bought the coffee table.” I handed her the ten, my eyes glued just above the middle of the door where his head had been. “Wants to pick it up tomorrow.”
“You get his name?” she asked looking at me.
“Aiden Trabell.”
“Uh, pretty. What’s in the envelope?” Stel asked, making me jump at the sound of her voice right by my shoulder. Being deaf she never could tell when she was talking too loud or too soft. A serious problem when the only time she got loud was when she was curious or nervous about something.
“Gah don’t do that to me!” I snapped, glaring at her while she shrugged, rolling her eyes.
“Can I see the necklace?” she asked reaching out to touch it. Like some spoiled little child who didn’t want to share her toys, I pressed the necklace to me.
“No.” I bit. She scowled at me then shrugged.
“What’s that say?” she asked instead tipping the envelope. Looking to it and the necklace in my hand, some how I couldn’t read it then. Getting the necklace on and keeping it on seemed more pressing then what was in the envelope.
“Here you open it. I need to put this on.” I shoved the letter into Stel’s hands, turning to the mirror on the counter by the sunglasses. Dragging my thick brown hair over my shoulder I put the necklace on, it only took me one try to get it on, like the clasps were magnetic or something. Looking at myself with the necklace on seemed strange.
Like I was twelve again watching my grandma sit at her vanity brushing her hair. I wasn’t her blood grandchild my mother was adopted by her. But we had the same thick dark hair that curled at the ends. Whenever I watched her brush the mass she’d remind me of a fairy queen, with her beautiful long hair and that necklace that likes of which I’d never seen anywhere else.
“Hey Jus.” Stel tapped me on the shoulder. “I can’t read this. It’s in Latin or something.” She shrugged handing the letter to me. It wasn’t really a letter, just a simple white index card. Grandma had never been one for a lot of finery. Matter-of-fact she was down right damn frugal.
Hello Justice,
If you’re reading this then I’ll assume that Aiden has given you my necklace and you’re wearing right now. This must seem like quite a surprise to you. And you’re probably wondering why I gave it to you. Well don’t. What you must know however is that the necklace has been in our family for generations. And must under no circumstance leave it. You cannot give it away; it is our legacy. Never give it away Justice.
The choice was made, now keep it safe.
I frowned at my Grandma’s words, as I read them over for the hundredth time since I’d got off work. It seemed even from beyond the grave this necklace was her top priority. Not that that really bothered me. Grandma and I hadn’t been really close just two strangers sharing the same house for six years. But then if she wanted to keep the necklace safe way didn’t she just give it to some museum or something. She’d told me once the necklace was centuries old, so it being a family heirloom wasn’t a surprise. Her giving it to me over my mother wasn’t either. But her constant instance that I don’t give the necklace away was a bit eerie. Almost as if she was afraid something bad would happen if I did.
Dropping the card on the table I finished off my coffee. I’d gotten off work at least an hour ago and was now waiting for Mr. Double-shot-caramel-mocha-latté to come in. The four months I’d been coming to this coffee shop, twice a week without fail he’d come in. The first time I’d come across him was purely by accident. I’d missed my bus home and had an hour to wait. I’d heard the waitresses saying it was almost time for handsome to show up. I’d thought they were talking about one of their boyfriends. So I ignored what they’d said and took a seat at one of the tables by the window. It was raining then like it was now, the streets were quite and empty, reminds me of the Edward Hopper’s painting Nighthawks.
And then there he was. Tall, dark curly hair, slightly tanned skin, he had a soft smile, but somehow it seemed his smile was more for the benefit of the girls, then him trying to be sociable. If that was the case then I’m sure he would have stayed longer then to order his coffee and go. Didn’t seem to bother the girls though he always left a five in their tip cup anyway.
Tonight wasn’t any different. Thank God. The way my week had been thus far going home with the sight of him would do my day wonders. He walked in, with hands in his pockets of his black trench coat, his hair glistening a bit from the rain outside. He smiled as he usually did to the girls and as usual they got on making his coffee the moment he walked in. I watched him without fear of being caught. Guys like him never noticed the rest of us plain Jane’s. We were just faded wallpaper in a museum of Picasso’s and Boticelli’s. So why was he looking around as if the scenery had suddenly changed.
When he started to scan in my direction, his attention went back to the counter and the girl touching his hand to show him his coffee was ready. He smiled at her, took the coffee, left the tip and locked eyes with me. Doing a quick head to toe then leaving like I was nothing worth getting worked up about. Okay I’ll agree that I’m no goddess incarnate, I not a toad either. And his little reaction as if I was one, had seriously put dent in my good night. Stuffing my book in my pack, I pulled on my coat, slung my pack over my shoulder and left, tossing my coffee in the trashcan on the corner.
Jackass. Just because you’re gorgeous doesn’t mean you’re friggen prefect. Vanity’s one of the seven deadly pal. Better pray it doesn’t catch up to you one of these days. When the rough feeling of something metal crunched under my foot. I quickly stepped back. Forgetting my previous anger at the beautiful ass, and now entranced by the beautiful timepiece I had just stepped on. There were two crossed swords and a crown above them; a star decorated each point of the crown the largest in the center and the state of New York behind the swords decorating the face. The watch itself was a little smaller then the palm of my hand. It must have been a college watch or something. Turning it over there wasn’t anything on the back, not even scratches from the cement where I had stepped on it.
“Must be pretty expensive not to get all scratched up.” I shrugged. “Wonder who you belong to.” Flipping it back over I pushed down the knob with the chain attached to it, clicking it open. Maybe the owners name would be inscribed inside, something as fancy as this it probably was.
“Nicholas E. Draco.” I read, blinking at the familiar ness of the name. “Draco, Draco. Where have I heard that before?” I wondered tapping my lip trying to recall it. “Harry Potter? Oh yeah a fictional character dropped their pocket watch on the streets of New York, that’s realistic. I’ll just goggle the name when I get home.” I shrugged stuffing the watch in my coat pocket as I walked to my bus stop.
“Help! Somebody! Help!” a man’s panicked voice rang from the alley just in front of me. Stopping dead I rolled my eyes at my sorry luck. Sure, of course some stranger would be crying for help on my way home. Just how stupid did they think I was?
“This is New York you idiot. No one’s going to come and save you. Now shut up and jump in. The Yankee’s are playing the Red’s tonight. ” Another man said, his tone was mocking, amused at the others pleas for help, and in true New Yorker fashion annoyed that he was missing the game. Peeking around the corner I spotted two huge guys corning a skinny pale blond who looked like he was about to piss himself. There was an alley lamp flickering behind him, but then he seemed just as terrified of what was behind him as he did what was in front. I would be to if was him. Those guys were huge, about six two each and some two hundred plus pounds, there must have been a third one standing behind the blond.
Sizing the muggers up and then my own chances against them. I did the smart thing and pulled out my cell phone. Course running down the street to the pay phone might have done more good, since all my phone did was read low battery and die. I really need to get a damn rabbit’s foot.
Looking around the corner again I reassessed my options. I was going to get creamed if they got me. And that was only figuring in the two I could see. I was guessing, hoping, that there was only a third behind the guy. If there were more, I was seriously screwed. Man, I hate playing hero!
“Hey asshole!” I yelled, causing one of the guys to turn just in time to be slugged across the face with my pack. As a rule for nights like this my pack always had at least three rocks the size of my fist in it. Tonight it was three rocks and two hard cover books. Never piss off a girl who reads hard covers. He hit the ground like a ton of bricks. Unfortunately the other guy didn’t. He lunged, I cringed and the sound of a body hitting a dumpster filled my ears. My eyes opened and the other guy, the one I hadn’t laid a finger on sat unconscious on the ground against the dumpster.
“What just happened? “ I breathed
“You saved me.” the skinny blond said weakly looking at me like some timid squirrel content on watching and being watched, but make a move toward him and he’d run. He looked just as surprise at what had happened as I was.
Then my face went slack. Behind the blond wasn’t a third guy or a flickering street lamp but a black hole, white zigzags of lighting flashing and crackling inside. Did I at some point hit my head and was now dreaming of Buffy. Cause there was no way a lighting lit black hole was really spinning just behind the blond.
An Angry hiss brought my eyes back to the blond. “You’re with them.” He screeched, his voice was inhuman, like a banshee. Only his wasn’t luring me to death, it was killing me. When he came running at me ready to rip me apart, I stood terrified of what I saw. He wasn’t human. His hands were claws, his teeth fangs, sharp and pointed, and his hair had become scales. That’s not human, that’s not human, that sure as hell is not human!
Every fiber of my being said run, was screaming it in very known manner. So why weren’t my feet moving? This was a bad dream. It had to be a bad dream. And if this was a bad dream I could control what was about to happen. “Go away.” I yelled and just like that he stopped dead in mid-run sharing a surprised and altogether disbelieving look with me, before he went flying back into the black hole, which disappeared into nothing the very second he flew into it. “Okay.” I breathed out, my eyes wide and glued on the now empty alley where the black hole had been. I blinked several times waiting for reality to wake me up, and then I blacked out. Something caught me, it was hard but it wasn’t the ground.
“Shut up.” I yelled slamming my fist down on the nightstand, jerking up and awake at the sudden pain that was coursing through my hand, as the edge of the table bit into it. “Son of a—“ I bit my lip cupping my hand to me as I rocked back and forth, rubbing the side that had hit the table. Flipping on my bedside lamp I looked around my small room spotting my alarm clock glowing green and working on my bookshelf in the corner.
Funny, how I didn’t remember putting it there. Funnier, how I didn’t remember it working after I’d broken it yesterday morning. Getting up slowly I walked over to the bookshelf, pressing the off button on the clock, and Skye Sweetnam turned off as abruptly as she’d turned on. Running my hand through my hair I stared at the clock, until my fingers touched something foreign and metallic at my neck. Looking down I spotted Grandma’s necklace still hanging around my neck. Thinking back on last night, I looked over to the T.V. grabbing the T.V. guide I looked up last night’s shows. Sure enough it’d been on, they’d had a three-hour run.
“Okay no more Buffy before bed.” I sighed, walking into the bathroom splashing water on my face to shake off the memory of my dream. “It had to be a dream.” I said trying to convince myself that it was. But then, I’d never had a dream that…vivid, before. Shaking my head again I grabbed the washcloth from the rack. “It was a dream. Stuff like that only happens in books and movies.” I berated myself. It was nonsense that I was even considering the possibility of what happened last… in my dream…to be real. It wasn’t, end of story.
Funny how something I was convinced wasn’t real kept me thinking that it was.
“Earth…to…Justice. Wake up.” Stel snapped her fingers in front of me.
“Huh? What?” I jerked looking at her startled.
“You feeling all right? You were staring out into space.” She signed, eyeing me as if she thought I was going to pass out. Frankly, I kind of felt like I was going to, I’d been so engrossed in my own thoughts the heavy fragrance of the bounce sheet in my hand was staring to get to me.
“I’m fine. Just day dreaming.” I smiled, knowing she could see right through my lie the second I’d said it. “I had a weird dream last night.” I huffed, getting a pleased now-I-believe-you look from her.
“Okay, sorry. But you think you could dream over it at the counter. I’d like to get some lunch.” She pointed out to the main store. I nodded taking the register keys from her as the store doorbell rang.
“Hello.” A male voice called.
“Be with you in a minute.” I yelled taking care of the load I had started before pulling back the curtain, my eyes shot wide and I froze choking on a scream as I 180ed back behind the curtains. Clutching them closed.
Holy Shit! What was he doing here?
