Spirit of Vengeance

I crouched carefully on the building ledge, my sniper in potion and my eyes carefully watching the clubs main entrance like a hawk, waiting for the moment Billy Jones (a sleazy middle class man, with a connection to the mafia) left the building.

Billy had a twisted obsession with women and night clubs, and after what I saw in there one night, I was determined to make sure no girl would sufferer in his grasp again. Billy wasn’t much of a sight, standing at only five foot five, with moss green eyes, a natural balled head and slightly overweight. He was hard not to remember since he was one of the bastereds who killed me.

Since my death revenge has always been on my mind and when I noticed that people began to see me again, it made me realize I could get my revenge after all, after doubting I never would. How and why people started seeing me again, I did not know. Was it because I’d been avoiding crossing over to the other side for too long? Or was I given a second chance?

At first I presumed it was just my imagination, but when my dearest best friend Rose spotted me pacing around in my bed room when she came to collect things that I’d borrowed of her, she freaked out and I quickly left town knowing if people started to see me again, sooner or later something bad was going to happen. Leaving town also meant changing my appearance with it, in case someone else noticed me and realised who I was since my murder was all over the news.

My once dark chocolate brown hair was now blonde which fell past my shoulders and instead of the average teen girl clothing I used to wear, I went for something which made me seem that I’d just got out of a boot camp for spies, though I made it my own style. I seemed to have an attraction to short black leather. I had peculiar grey eyes which were freckled with violate, like my mothers and blessed with a lean slender body which stood at 5ft 7 and had the flexibility of a rubber band due to years of cheerleading, gymnastics and dance of all kinds.

Below the night club door opened and the once dull thump of the music, now became ten times louder, filling up the empty void of the silent street below. Billy was first to exit, followed by a young woman in mid-thirties, with frizzy brown hair and wearing a red leather dress which was far too short.

I watched as Billy leant against the wall and lit up a cigarette, in perfect sight for me to get a head shot. Bonus. A victory smile lit up my face, knowing that I was taking down the second filthy man who killed me. It made me remember who I was and who I was doing this for.

The first man I had taken down was named Roy Burns, a small town mechanic. Oh did I have so much fun with him. His face was a picture the moment I waved him goodbye as he took his self to the grave. Taken him down was simple; all I had to do was haunt him with guilt, until finally he hung his self for his crime.

I did not feel any remorse for these people; they killed me, so as they saying goes an eye for an eye, but in my case a life for a life, five lives to be exact.

Quickly loading up the sniper, I got ready to take down the second of the five men who killed me sixth months ago for no reason. It wasn’t easy tracking them down and when I did, I had to get to understand them first, such as what they wanted most in life and their deepest fears.

I was about to fire, when the sound of screaming echoed from the alley beside me, followed by a cry for help and a high pitched get away from me. Sighing, I retreated to help knowing I’d be struck with guilt if I didn’t and I feared the girl could end up like me. Slinging the sniper over my back I headed over towards the ledge looking over the alley and peaked over.

Below I saw a young girl around my age fighting for her life against two drunken guys twice her age trying to get in on with her. Like my own she had blonde hair which fell past her shoulders, only she had blue tips. She was wearing casual night out gear, a mini skirt, which for once weren’t too high, black heels, a red crop top and a matching red leather jacket.

The first guy who was pinning her to the wall was wearing lose fit denim jeans, a blue checker top which was unbuttoned half way down his chest and brown locks which fell to his shoulders. The second guy attempting to strip her of her coat was wearing a matching pair of lose fit denim jeans to his partner in crime, an Asking Alexandria shirt and had short black hair.

I suddenly glanced up sensing someone was watching me. There crouched on a ledge on the opposite building was a guy just a bit older than me, with shaggy black hair which was hint with the slight tint of dark electric blue, with eyes a deep aquatic blue and green, which like my own were speckled with violet. They carefully studded me. Like me, he looked fresh out of spy camp, only he had the equipment for it. Me, I just carried the items I need to get revenge with, gun, knife, a few other things to spice things up.

He’s lips curved up into a cunning smile which spelled trouble with a capital T and his hand lift up in a small manipulative salute. Well hello beautiful, he mouthed with a wink. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. Who the hell was this guy?

I sent him a daggering look, a look that did everything but verbally hiss. I wasn’t in the gaming mood or a flirting one either.

His smile darkened and his stare looked amused, until finally he shook his head and laughed softly to his self, dismissing me. A moment later he turned his back to me and clicked something in place, before he jumped backwards towards the ground below, attached to a rope which jerked him to a halt meters above the ground. Just as quickly as he fell, he unclipped the rope and landed in a crouched position.

Slowly he rose to his feet, before he glanced up towards me with another menacing smile. I rolled my eyes and a moment later his attention turned back towards the two drunken slobs and the helpless girl, who had yet not saw him.

“Well-well-well boys, what do we have here? I hope you’re not causing this young lady distress,” he chuckled as he approached them. His voice was deeply calm and somehow seductively attractive at the same time.

I shook my head fiercely not wanting to fall under such spell. I knew I could never love again, knowing that I could never grow old and have children because well . . . I’m dead. How would I explain to my boyfriend that I was actually a ghost, though I did not seem like one? How would it go down for that matter? Would he still love his already dead girlfriend?

Carefully and quietly I sat myself down on the ledge and watched the show below. Let’s see how good this guy is before he needs help. The two men turned towards him, obviously not pleased with being caught in the act. The girl quickly slithered into the shadows besides a trash shoot and watch the commotion.

“Go away man, this is none of your business,” the Asking Alexandria guy slurred.

“Yeah Shadow, this is none of your business,” the other drunken guy slurred repeatedly.

Shadow or whoever he was leaned against the alley wall, his arms folding across his chest, a taunting smile twitching at the corner of his lips. He shook his head in amusement.

“The last time I checked boys, this was always my problem, the group’s problem in fact,” Shadow reminded. “You have brought us a lot of hassle lately; you’re picking up on our radar quite a lot and that’s not good boys, not good at all.”

The two men glanced at one another before breaking into hysteric laughter, stumbling as they did.

“Dude have you heard this guy?” Metallica laughed doubling over.

“I-I-I know,” the other guy sputtered patting his friend on the back.

I rolled my eyes. If this was me in Shadows position I would have had both men on their knees sobbing like little girls, begging for mercy and forgiveness. Pft armature.

Shadow began to laugh. It was low but audible laugh and it seemed very unpleasantly sarcastic. The guys quickly shut up.

“You forget, I own these streets and you’re trespassing,” Shadow said in a tone which made the men shudder slightly.

While the two men were distracted, I decided silently dropped down besides the young girl, signalling Shadow (if that was his actual name; you never knew what a drunken guy would say) to keep them distracted while I attended to the young girl. He nodded carefully so the two men didn’t click on to him that someone else was behind them.

At first the young girl did not notice I was beside her, until she glanced up and let out a yelp of fear. I placed my finger over my lip in a signal to her to keep quite. She nodded and accepted my offered out hand, pulling herself up to a wobbly standing.

You’d think with me being a ghost she’d go right through me, but I had mastered a way in which I could control what went through my body and what didn’t. How this worked, I had no clue, but as long as I could get through my day to day life of revenge, I did not over think it.

“Are you okay?” I asked my voice low enough so the girl could hear me and the two drunken men didn’t.

She nodded, her lip quivering as if she wanted to break down and cry, but she kept her stance.

“Hey you!” Asking Alexandria guy shouted. My eyes flickered from the girl towards the Asking Alexandria guy, only to find him carrying a poll and furthermore to find Shadow in the midst of a fighting match with the other guy who was failing terribly.

“Run and don’t look back,” I commanded the girl, shoving her towards the exit of the alley. A moment later she was sprint away down the alley and out of sight round the corner.

Behind me I sensed the poll swing at my head and in a quick movement, I crouched to the ground, kicked my leg out and pivoted my body quickly round, taking out the guys legs. He tumbled to the ground backwards, his head hitting the ground with a meaty thump, followed by the clank clank clank of the poll bouncing off the ground several times, before rolling to a stop. He was out cold.

By time I had took down Asking Alexandria guy, Shadow had took down the other, who moaned in agonising pain; his body coiled up into a ball of trembling fear. A victory half smile crept on to Shadow’s lips, before it deepened as his eyes maneuverer their way from head to toe and back again. Our eyes locked and I struggled to break away, it was magnetizing.

“Well,” he beamed darkly as he strolled slowly over to me, his eyes not once budging from mine. “I’ve never seen you around these parts before.”

He stopped at arm’s length away as if trying not to push his luck with me. By the expression on his face, he knew I was trouble and he seemed to be enjoying this greeting. Before we knew it we were both looking down the barrel of each other’s semi-automatic pistol.

"Well this is a bit of a predicament, isn't it?" I said effortlessly. His gun didn't scare me; his bullet would only go right through me.

"Indeed," he answered with a nod. "So care to tell me your name?"

"Vengeance," I replied blankly.

"I'm guessing that isn't your real name, but it will do. My name's Shadow."

"I'm guessing that isn't your real name either?"

He shook his head. "So, Vengeance, care to explain what you’re doing around here, I mean obviously you want to kill someone if you’re carrying a sniper." His gun hand shifted slightly to point towards the sniper, before it returned to me.

"Business," I replied simply, before dropping my gun back into its hold on my waist. Shadow's gun didn't budge from me. He obviously didn't trust me to put it down just yet.

"What kind of business?"

"Business," I replied more sternly, folding my arms over my chest to show that he wasn't going to get any more information out of me.

"Are you going to lower the gun already, or are you afraid I'm going to kick your ass?" I smiled smugly.

His lips twitched up into his own smug smile and he lowered his gun. "You’re quiet the stubborn one aren't you?"

"I could say the same thing about you. Took you a while to put that gun down didn't it? Scared I’m going to shoot?"

He shrugged. "You don't look like someone I trust. I doubt you would have shot me anyway."

"Neither do you and I would also reconsider that last part." My lips twitched up into a threatening smile.

"I'm not the one carrying the sniper." He gestured to the sniper resting ready and loaded on my back comfortably.

"I'm not the one who didn't trust me to put his weapon down after I put mine away." I gestured to his gun sitting comfortably in its hold on the right side of his waist. Quickly I diverted my eyes not wanting to keep them there any longer.

"Tushay," he replied coyly before he offered out his hand out towards me.

I looked towards his hand and filched slightly at the mark on his right wrist. I quickly glanced down to my own identical mark on my left wrist and shuddered at its close resemblance. Both marks were small, black and in the shape of a pentagram only mine had the difference of a black line through it, which seemed to have appeared the moment I died. My mother claimed it was a birthmark but as I grew older I thought it was too distinct and detailed to be one, though I never took any notice after she died.

Once last glance at his mark and my own, I finally took his outstretched hand and shook.
"Wow your hands are cold," he shuddered and retreated his hand just as quickly.

The only problem with being a ghost, I was always cold, ice cold. Though I couldn't feel it, or anything at all for that matter besides emotion, when my skin brushed living skin other people felt it, that’s how I knew, but now . . . now I knew how that felt to be touched by something ice cold. For a split second I felt it too. I shuddered; I also felt his touch and could taste the rich sent of spicy herbs radiating from him and the salty sea air, even though I could already smell them. Weird, my touch and taste senses died when I died.

"Sorry, I've been out most of the night." I didn't know why I had to apologise, something inside me told me I had to, though one part of me wanted to knock this guy out and get on with my job.

He frowned a little, confused at why I was apologising, but it soon faded and returned back to another menacing sly smile.

"Listen, not to be rude or anything but I best get going I have a job to finish and then people to visit." Them people being Rose, my sister and my father to see if they were doing okay, before I would visit my own and mothers grave.

My mother had died when I was ten in a car accident, which also nearly killed me and my sister Lola. I'm still haunted by the memory of the moment the car burst its tire and it went skidding of a cliff down into the ocean below. How me and my sister survived I didn't know, but my mother wasn't so lucky.

My mother was the double of me, only an inch taller and with frizzier hair. Like me she had dark chocolate brown hair, though before she died she had died it auburn, which glowed beautifully in both sun and moon light filling me with a warm cosy autumn feeling every time I saw her, and though it fell past her shoulders, it was extremely large and frizzy due to natural curls and every time she walked, it would bounce to the rhythm of her moment. My mother eyes were also a peculiar grey, though hers weren’t speckled with violet.

When I was seven, I asked my mother why she didn’t have violet in her eyes like my own or anyone in my family in fact. She had smiled brightly, but her eyes flickered away from my own and replied, “Because you are different Honey. You are unique and special, because you were blessed with the eyes of an angel, beautiful and unique at the same time, eyes which hold a thousand stars.” I smiled back think none the more, but as I grew older I noticed that that pictures before my fifth birthday, my eyes were just like my mothers, plain grey.

Deep inside me something burned with pain and the sudden urge to cry hit me like a gale force wind. I quickly buried it and burned it. Something was wrong; I hadn’t wanted to cry in six months, there just wasn’t anything to cry about.

"It's alright. I guess I'll be seeing you around?" It was more of a question than a statement.

"Maybe, it depends on where my business takes me I guess," I said with a lazy shrug. I honestly didn't care if I ever saw him again. I didn't think I ever would anyway. Hopefully.

Before he could reply, I walked past him and disappeared out the alley. In my luck Billy was still outside the club, on the phone.

Just wanting to get this over with, I crossed the street towards him, pulling out the pistol as I did and changing myself into the broken body of mine he killed. His eyes flickered up to me at the sound of my heels tapped against the pavement towards him. The phone he was holding slipped from his grasp and shattered. His eyes widened and filled with terror. I stopped before him and press my gun painfully into his forehead.

“Hello Billy, remember me?” I hissed. It was more than a command that a question.

He nodded slowly, his body beginning to tremble in fear, sweat dripping down his face, his eyes glistening over with tears. He was terrified.

“B-B-But your dead,” he stammered fearfully.

“Oh I’m dead alright,” I growled. I pushed the gun harder into his head and he let out a small child like yelp.

"You killed me, Billy; you killed me and left me in the alley for my best friend to find me and then my father. Why Billy? Why did you kill me?"

"I-I don't know," he sobbed. “I was drunk and r-r-reckless, I’m s-sorry.”

One corner of my lips twitched up into a demonic smile. The second victory in making a grown man cry with fear.

"You must have had a reason, Billy; everyone has to have a reason to do something, like me right now going to kill you because you killed me."

"P-please I beg of you, g-give me mercy," he begged.

"Mercy not granted." I pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed through the empty streets, shutting out the thump of the music and the soft distant sound of cars for just a moment.

Two down three to go. I thought

I quickly left the scene and headed for home and my black VMAZ bike parked a few blocks away. I was overcome with an unfamiliar wave of emotion and something deep inside me thrived with that emotion.

Across the street from home

I sat anxiously on my idled bike just over the road from the place I used to call home. My father wasn’t home yet and through the window of the living room I watched as my sister franticly paced back and forth, as fear devoured her facial features. My father was never normally was this late home as it closed towards midnight and if he was going to, he would call and let us (or at least Lilly now) that he would be home late, but the look on her face told me he hadn’t.

Lilly was the spitting image of the old me, the hair, the eyes, the lot, the only way to tear us apart were our voice and the so called “birth mark” on my wrist. The last time I saw her was just last week, where I was surprised to find she had dyed her hair blue, my favourite colour and her least. It was her way of remembering me when I overheard her telling her best friend Hannah.

“You know spying on people gets you nowhere,” Shadows voice said from behind me, followed by the waft of fresh warm coffee. A moment later a coffee cup appeared in front of my face, steam slowly rising from it.

I hesitated a moment before I accepted it, trying to avoid bushing my fingers against his.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he said sitting on the back end of my bike mere meters beside me, holding his own steaming cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“Though you might need it, you seemed pretty cold before.”

“You have no idea,” I muttered feeling very irritated with him being here. How would he even know unless . . .

“Did you follow me?” I asked finally glancing his way.

He took a sip of his coffee, before glancing my way. A sheepish but crafty grin slipped onto his lips as he nodded, before turning away again to glance over towards my home.

“I only followed you because it would have been rude of me not to see if you were okay after you left in such a frantic hurry. You seemed really twitchy and looked like you were about to break down,” he explained.

That’s because I met you!

“And that gave you the right to follow me and bring me coffee?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “My bike broke down anyway just a few blocks away, when I saw you fly past, so I thought I might as well see if you were alright while I wait for my guys to pick me up.” He grinned notoriously.

“Shouldn’t you be waiting with your bike then?”

His grin grew more notorious as he said “Its fine, they’ll track me.”

I rolled my eyes and looked back towards my pacing sister. She was now sat on the windowsill, her palm pressed against the window; with tears rolling down her cheeks as she stared down the street in hope that dad will be home tonight like always.

“Is she okay?” Shadow asked, gesturing towards the window with his coffee cup hand.

“She’s waiting for her father,” I said with a gloomy sigh. “He’s normally home by now, so she’s worried sick.” Hopefully he hadn’t heard the pain swirling in my voice all of a sudden.

“And you know this how?” he asked as turned his gaze upon me again.

I struggled not to bow my head in sorrow, so instead I turned to focus on him. “That’s because I come here and sit here every night making sure she and her father are okay. I was her sister’s best friend and when she was murdered six months ago I split town and told no one. It was my way of grieving,” I lied.

I wasn’t going to tell Shadow the truth about my life, about how it was my sister who was waiting impatiently for our father to return from the station tonight.

“You call skipping town grieving. Wow, I thought my twin brother locking his self in his room for two weeks was grieving when our mother died,” he laughed lightly, but it lacked humour. “We were only ten when she died.”

Something screamed at me about the familiarity of his mother’s death, telling me that it was somehow connected to my own mother’s death and that we were both connected somehow, but I shoved it deep down, making sure it was buried in the darkest depths, presuming it was just my sorrows trying to wish there was someone out there, anyone who had suffered what I suffered.

“I’m sorry to hear about that,” I said solemnly. “I know how you feel, my mother died when me and my sister were ten too.”

“I’m sorry to hear that too,” he said just as gravely as he rolled his half empty cup in between his hands.

Silence fell around us, smothering me like a thick mist of smoke slowly choking me alive. I have always hated silence; there was just something about it which scared me, so I was glad when I was overcome with bursts of feeling and warmth when I felt Shadows elbow nudge into my side several times.

“I think there’s something wrong,” he said pointing to the police vehicle which pulled up into the drive way.

I shook my head and laughed at his misunderstanding. He looked at me confused until I finally said “No, there’s not, everything’s fine. That’s her father’s car; he’s the Chief of police.”

“Didn’t he lose a daughter a few months ago?”

“Yeah, Zoë, my best friend,” I sighed. That best friend really being me.

“I’ve never met her personally but I heard she’s quite the Good Samaritan.”

“Yeah, she was. Always happy to help everybody and anyone no matter how hard the problem was.”

I was always the Good Samaritan; I got that from my mother before she died. She taught me that not all people were as wealthy as us and that helping the needy would bring good fortune. Ha, look where that got me, six feet under slowly rotting in a box while my soul walks the earth craving revenge, a soul which defiantly wasn’t resting until that revenge was full filled.

We watched as my father stepped out of his car and my sister dash out of the door and straight into his arms. My father rocked from side to side as he crooned my sister into calmness, before my vision of sight was cut off by a black van pulling up in front of me.

The driver’s side window rolled down to revel a blond haired guy with dreadlocks, with leaf green eyes and was in the same get up as myself and Shadow. He was around about Shadows age, a dark golden tan and when he smiled at the sight of me and Shadow, deep dimples carved into his cheeks.

“Well-well-well, I thought you got kidnapped or killed, Shadow, when I found your deserted bike, but here I find you sitting with a smoking hot chick,” the driver chuckled. He whistled as he looked me up and down slowly.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip at my coffee, giving him a daggering stare over the cup as I did.

“Blaze, show some manners man,” Shadow growled at his friend as he pushed up from my bike, before he leant against the driver’s door beside Blaze.

“Come on you can’t deny she’s not hot, don’t you think?” Blaze grinned, nudging Shadow on the arm with his elbow.

Shadow sent a daggering look towards Blaze before saying, “Move over, I’m driving,” as he pulled open the driver’s side door. His friend scooted over unwillingly.

“Shadow, bro, you’re such a whip sometimes,” Blaze laughed as Shadow slammed the door shut.

“I guess I’ll see you around then, Vengeance,” he said ignoring his friend.

“Yeah,” I smiled.

“And the answer to his question,” he gestured to his friend who had gotten bored of being ignored and had seemed too occupied to his with nodding his head furiously to the beat of a song, which blared through his earphones. “I do think you’re hot,” he winked, “But let’s keep that between you and me.” An intoxicating smile swept on to his lips and he pressed his finger against them, a sign of silence.

I rolled my eyes and turned my body so I was properly seat on my bike. It was a gesture to show that I didn’t care what he had to say, but deep inside I really did and it scared me. I hadn’t felt this way since I had died. Why were these flush of feels now invading my life?

As I slipped my helmet over my head, beside me Shadow started the van, before I started my bike a second after. I was about to set off when I heard Shadow call my name. I flicked up the screen shielding my eyes and turned my head to look at him.

His arm was stuck out the window towards me and in between his fingers rested a torn piece of paper and a black card.

“What are these?” I asked carefully slipping them from his fingers, avoiding his touch.

The already intoxicating smile on his face heightened and no doubt my cheeks had flared a rose colour under my helmet. “It’s my phone number and my business card,” he said.

“Why do I need your business card?” I questioned as I shoved them in my pocket, taking no notice of them.

He shrugged. “You never know,” he smiled. “Whenever you need help or a chat, anything at all, just call me.” His smile inched higher.

Before I could answer, he gave me another small salute, before he took of down the road. With a roll of my eyes and a mutter under my breath at how much of a jerk he was, I made my last check on my sister and father (who we’re now sat on the sofa watching a movie) I kicked up my bike stand and took off in the opposite direction of Shadow and Blaze, heading for the nearest motel.