A/N: Hey all,
relatively new to writing stories so any comments are appreciated.
you will find out who Jest is later
WORD OF WARNING: may be a little graphic if you have an imaginative mind. wasn't sure if it should be T or M so tell me if you think it needs changed.
A Familiar Face
Jest stood hunched over the side of the massive skyscraper. His keen eyes were constantly scanning for any signs of unwanted or unexpected activity. His target sat in his comfortable room only three stories down from where Jest was. Pathetic, he thought, that the gangsters of today wasted their money on him to do the supposed impossible. He had scaled the outside wall of the skyscraper without being seen by anyone and, aside from his contact, he was confident that no one had seen him on the trip here. He let his face darken with a morbid anticipation as the time closed in.
Patrick Dungun was the name of his next victim. Apparently, he was an American that one of the mob lords wanted dead. He must have looked into the wrong file at their meeting a few days back. It really didn't matter that much to Jest though. He only cared about one goal right now and that was killing the man below him in the middle of his own party with as much noise as possible. He pulled his bone white mask from a small pouch he had across his back and placed it onto his face. Never once had any target seen his face and escaped but he preferred to be careful. He then pulled out a wickedly sharp dagger and easily drove the adamantine blade into the concrete roof. Finally, he pulled out a cord of rope and securely tied it to the weapon.
Jest wrapped the rest of the rope around his muscular arm except for fifteen feet or so and turned back to the ledge. Letting out a howl of excitement he got a running start and leapt off the roof. Halfway through the fall he felt the rope go slack as the dagger slipped from the concrete. He smiled knowing that it had worked perfectly. It was only meant to create a swing like motion in his descent, enabling his to propel himself through one of the towers many windows. He rapidly began to coil the slack rope onto his arm until his hand came into contact with the daggers hilt. Curling up into a ball he felt the glass shatter as he smashed into Patrick's massive apartment.
The entire room of guests and guards looked over in surprise as Jest rolled through the window. Rising to his feet spotted the first threat. A single soldier who had been near the window was blindly rushing toward him. Jest smiled at the stupidity of it all as he bent low, using the guards own momentum to lift him from the ground and send him flying out the newly made doorway. His screams as he fell down to the earth made Jest want to laugh and so he did. His insane laughter was the only sound in the room. He abruptly stopped and began to sway in unnatural, jerky motions as if he had just come out of the world's best bar.
Patrick stood in the center of the room and to Jests surprise he was the first to move. He bolted for the door and shouted for his security men to eliminate the assassin. Once again laughing madly, Jest ran around the room with an inhuman speed. He jumped into the air as he reached his first assailant. Bullets whizzed under him as he took a fist and bashed it into the man's head hard enough to break through his skull and crush his brain. He was off to the next one without another thought. He ran towards the man with his arms trailing, one with the rope and the other now holding his dagger. The man was clearly panicked and started blindly shooting toward Jest. He never even got close. Jest slid on his knees, dragging the dirk through the man's stomach. He was well on his was to Patrick even as the security guard fell to the floor trying to gather his spilled guts and put them back into place.
Jest had seen the door that Patrick had used to escape and easily made his way to it, killing only three more of the security guards in the process. Pushing past the double doors he was surprised at the Americans audacity. He actually thought that his security forces could protect him. Jest loved the look on the man's face when he walked through the doors and not one of his men. He gave a mock salute to the man who seemed prepared to shit himself on the spot.
Jest took a silent step forward and reached a hand up to his mask. He said," Proper etiquette dictates that I show my face to the man I am about to kill and I am not so uncivil as to ignore such rules." Patrick shrank back a little in the plush chair he was sitting in. As Jest removed his mask he seemed to sit a little straighter as if finding some fountain of hidden confidence. "You… you died, I remember" he spouted. A shuffling sound behind him alerted Jest to another presence. He whirled and threw the dagger which was still tied to the rope. It plunged into the lone guard's chest with ease. He pulled the rope causing blood to come spraying out of the wound and the dagger to pull free. Jest caught the blade by its hilt; lifting it to his face. Giving Patrick a sidelong look, he ran his tongue up the blade once, licking away the man's blood. He gave him one last maniacal smile as he approached. Driving the blade into Patrick's neck he coated his hand in blood. He walked over to a largely clear portion of the wall and wrote his calling card,' till death do us part.
He retrieved his dagger and placed his mask back onto his face. Giggling madly, he wiped some blood across his mask as he adjusted it slightly. Using the hilt of his dagger, he smashed through another one of the complexes massive windows and leapt out into the cool night air, forcing his inner demons back into their cages. He had always hated to kill but as life continued, it became necessary. So, he used the demented parts of his mind to generate a sort of insanity that he had learned to control. In it he had placed all of his anger, sadness and pain but there was still plenty left to spare.
He made his way to relative safety across the rooftops of the city's many buildings. He finally arrived at one of his more secluded stashes around the city. Each contained a nice suit and tie, to help him blend in with a crowd, along with an extra dagger for emergencies. Jest started to remove his mask but stopped suddenly when he heard footsteps coming from below. Like a wisp he moved over to the edge of the building to find the sounds source.
A few feet below him, the concrete sidewalk was empty except for a lone denizen. A girl maybe 5'6'' was walking carelessly along the path. The night was dark, but Jest could still clearly see one thing. Her eyes, they were a vibrant green that's light seemed to come from an inner source. Only once before had he seen eyes like that and that had been over ten centuries ago, that was a long time. He sat captivated for a brief moment before deciding to follow her. Only one person had held so much fire and passion inside.
It was her, he knew it. It had to be her.