Kiss Me, You Animal.
The Fabulous Killjoys, Part Two.
Darkness was all I could see, but I could feel the burning sunlight hit my eyelids. I didn’t know what had happened, but I did know that I was lying in the sand in an awkward position. My leg was bent funny, but it didn’t hurt. I knew that as soon as I would move it, it would hurt like a mother fucker, though.
I tried to remember what had happened. Nothing came to mind. I couldn’t remember anything besides that my first name was Electric and my birthday was January 30th. Nothing really clicked in my head.
Slowly, but surely, everything that there was to remember clicked in my mind. My memories started in 2012, even though I was born in 1994. The first eighteen and a half years of my life had somehow vanished from my mind. Not that I minded; I personally didn’t need to remember anything that had happened before my destiny came calling.
My destiny was to become a Killjoy, to try and take back the world from Better Life Industries, or as I like to call it, BLI.
I finally moved my leg, making an unbearable pain shot all the way from my knee up my leg. It hurt so badly, I didn’t even make a noise. I just bit my lip and tried to move it in a better position.
What had happened?
I must have gotten shot. That would explain the burning sensation on my stomach. Ray gun burns, possibly worse than being shot with a real lead bullet. I wasn’t bleeding, thank god. I would’ve been dead by now if I was.
“Is she still alive?”
A male’s voice rang out around me in the darkness. Somehow, I couldn’t open my eyes, even if I had been conscious for...how long had I even been awake for?
“She’s breathing. Is she a Killjoy?”
“Look at her. She covered in dirt and wearing a that. Of course, she’s a Killjoy!”
Three men? Mother fuck. What if they were Dracs? Oh, what if they’re apart of the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit? That’s even worse. I was done for if they weren’t Killjoys themselves.
“Does she have the tattoo?”
“Not that I can see visibly.”
There was another voice added into this. Four of them? Shit.
I felt a warm hand on my face. He brushed some of my hair away from my eyes. “Are you awake?”
I opened my eyes to meet a pair of hazel-green eyes staring back at me. I nodded once and then winced from the pain. My whole body ached at that point.
“Are you a Killjoy?” Another voice asked. A blond guy with dark roots was now standing over the dark haired, green eyed boy.
“Yeah.” My voice was heavy, dry, like I hadn’t spoken in days. Maybe I hadn’t. Who knows how long I’d been out here.
“Where’s your tattoo?” A red-head asked.
“Tramp stamp.”
“Let’s see it then,” he said.
“Poison, she got shot in the fucking stomach. I’m not sitting her up, forcing her to be in pain just to see if she has the damned tattoo or not.” It was then that I realized the pretty eyed boy had said that I was a Killjoy before, when Red-Head asked before.
"Ghoul-"
“I’m Electric Strike, Lovely Killjoy, at your service,” I said, my voice still gross sounding, as I forced myself to sit up. The pain was almost unbearable, but I managed. I always manage to deal with it, somehow.
“What the hell are you doing?” The fourth guy asked me. He had curly hair that seemed to go everywhere. He was also more tan than the other pale boys.
I lifted up my jacket and shirt to show them the black spider inked into my flesh; the universal Killjoy Symbol.
“Wait, you’re Electric Strike? As in, the famous Killjoy that runs around on her own?” the blond spoke up.
“That would be me.”
I dropped my jacket and let it fall again. I tried standing up, but Ghoul forced me to sit down again.
“No, you’re not walking anywhere. You sprained your leg. Or your knee. I’m not sure. But, I can guarantee you can’t walk, sugar.”
“I’m fine. Is my car okay?"
He rolled his eyes, before maneuvering his arms around my waist and under my knees. He picked me up without a problem, leaving me to glare at him. I crossed my arms over my chest, not liking the closeness of he and I. I wasn't used to being around people, let alone letting them touch me.
“I'm pretty sure it is," the blonde said. "You take great care of it and it doesn't seem like it would be damaged."
"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, trying to wiggle my way out of his arms. It was then I realized how short he was.
"Making sure you don't walk?"
"This isn't fair," I stated, as he started walking towards a car I hadn't noticed until now. It was a colorful Trans Am. "I feel this is kidnapping. I can take care of myself."
Poison rolled his eyes. "If you could take care of yourself, then you wouldn't be here right now. But, I have to give you some credit. Even if you were shot and wounded, you still managed to think clearly enough to know to avoid the sun. You would've baked yourself alive if you hadn't. Where are your keys to your car?"
"They're over here," the tall, bushy haired one said, jingling keys above his head. "They must've fallen out of her pocket.
Poison nodded. "Kobra and Jet, you take her car and follow us. We're going back to headquaters and calling it a day."
I tried to remember what had happened. Nothing came to mind. I couldn’t remember anything besides that my first name was Electric and my birthday was January 30th. Nothing really clicked in my head.
Slowly, but surely, everything that there was to remember clicked in my mind. My memories started in 2012, even though I was born in 1994. The first eighteen and a half years of my life had somehow vanished from my mind. Not that I minded; I personally didn’t need to remember anything that had happened before my destiny came calling.
My destiny was to become a Killjoy, to try and take back the world from Better Life Industries, or as I like to call it, BLI.
I finally moved my leg, making an unbearable pain shot all the way from my knee up my leg. It hurt so badly, I didn’t even make a noise. I just bit my lip and tried to move it in a better position.
What had happened?
I must have gotten shot. That would explain the burning sensation on my stomach. Ray gun burns, possibly worse than being shot with a real lead bullet. I wasn’t bleeding, thank god. I would’ve been dead by now if I was.
“Is she still alive?”
A male’s voice rang out around me in the darkness. Somehow, I couldn’t open my eyes, even if I had been conscious for...how long had I even been awake for?
“She’s breathing. Is she a Killjoy?”
“Look at her. She covered in dirt and wearing a that. Of course, she’s a Killjoy!”
Three men? Mother fuck. What if they were Dracs? Oh, what if they’re apart of the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit? That’s even worse. I was done for if they weren’t Killjoys themselves.
“Does she have the tattoo?”
“Not that I can see visibly.”
There was another voice added into this. Four of them? Shit.
I felt a warm hand on my face. He brushed some of my hair away from my eyes. “Are you awake?”
I opened my eyes to meet a pair of hazel-green eyes staring back at me. I nodded once and then winced from the pain. My whole body ached at that point.
“Are you a Killjoy?” Another voice asked. A blond guy with dark roots was now standing over the dark haired, green eyed boy.
“Yeah.” My voice was heavy, dry, like I hadn’t spoken in days. Maybe I hadn’t. Who knows how long I’d been out here.
“Where’s your tattoo?” A red-head asked.
“Tramp stamp.”
“Let’s see it then,” he said.
“Poison, she got shot in the fucking stomach. I’m not sitting her up, forcing her to be in pain just to see if she has the damned tattoo or not.” It was then that I realized the pretty eyed boy had said that I was a Killjoy before, when Red-Head asked before.
"Ghoul-"
“I’m Electric Strike, Lovely Killjoy, at your service,” I said, my voice still gross sounding, as I forced myself to sit up. The pain was almost unbearable, but I managed. I always manage to deal with it, somehow.
“What the hell are you doing?” The fourth guy asked me. He had curly hair that seemed to go everywhere. He was also more tan than the other pale boys.
I lifted up my jacket and shirt to show them the black spider inked into my flesh; the universal Killjoy Symbol.
“Wait, you’re Electric Strike? As in, the famous Killjoy that runs around on her own?” the blond spoke up.
“That would be me.”
I dropped my jacket and let it fall again. I tried standing up, but Ghoul forced me to sit down again.
“No, you’re not walking anywhere. You sprained your leg. Or your knee. I’m not sure. But, I can guarantee you can’t walk, sugar.”
“I’m fine. Is my car okay?"
He rolled his eyes, before maneuvering his arms around my waist and under my knees. He picked me up without a problem, leaving me to glare at him. I crossed my arms over my chest, not liking the closeness of he and I. I wasn't used to being around people, let alone letting them touch me.
“I'm pretty sure it is," the blonde said. "You take great care of it and it doesn't seem like it would be damaged."
"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, trying to wiggle my way out of his arms. It was then I realized how short he was.
"Making sure you don't walk?"
"This isn't fair," I stated, as he started walking towards a car I hadn't noticed until now. It was a colorful Trans Am. "I feel this is kidnapping. I can take care of myself."
Poison rolled his eyes. "If you could take care of yourself, then you wouldn't be here right now. But, I have to give you some credit. Even if you were shot and wounded, you still managed to think clearly enough to know to avoid the sun. You would've baked yourself alive if you hadn't. Where are your keys to your car?"
"They're over here," the tall, bushy haired one said, jingling keys above his head. "They must've fallen out of her pocket.
Poison nodded. "Kobra and Jet, you take her car and follow us. We're going back to headquaters and calling it a day."