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Supercape

The Butcher

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Jessica sighed mentally. Not to the Pride spirit. See, the Pride spirit was the 'safest' to deliver messages. Greed, Gluttony, Lust, Sloth, Wrath. They made the messages into their own little advertisement. Pride? Pride just played up the speaker. You could get through a Pride message without getting other mixed signals.

 

Vic probably didn't say what Jessica heard. "She thinks your plan is simple and could do it better. But sure, lets go with your basic ass plan," the Pride spirit relayed. In Pride speak that was a yes.Jessica took the note in one hand and Vic, around the waist, in the other. She raised the note as they walked out of the door,  "pleasure doing business with you, Morgan. Back in a bit."

 

When they got outside and to the car, she grimaced, "OK, whatever you heard, from the messenger, I apologize. I could have waited until we left, but I didn't want to surprise you." She looked to Vic with sorrow, asking for forgiveness without words.

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"That was you? Or what?" replied Vic, a little more cool, a little more suspicious. 

 

"Nevermind, the message got through, even if ah...tainted..." she said, trying to inject some diplomacy into her mouth. The injection wasn't a firm success, but neither was it an abject failure. 

 

"Lets get going...."

 

And so!

 

A car was not needed, but Vic drove anyway. She needed her cigarrettes, and fancied a quick blast of some rather unpleasant sounding Mexican rap song from the radio. She was not exactly icy, but was laced with suspicion of Jessica. 

 

The scrapyard only took a minute to drive to. It was run down, but not falling down. The rust had sprinkled liberally on the fences of corrugated iron but they seemed, for the most, part, structurally intact. 

 

The front mesh gates were open, and a thin looking youth was trying to not look bored, sitting on a stool outside, reading some trashy magazine. The astute would note a gun tucked into his jeans at the back. 

 

And there was a sound of barking. A most unpalatable sound. 

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The ride was quiet, an uncommon thing for Jessica. She wondered if the whole debacle put Vic off. She feared that something would go wrong if they didn't communicate, but was at a loss for words. The rap was unrecognizable to her but it was enough to get her pumped. She had other things to deal with. Maybe she could get Vic's trust back by that!

 

When they got to the destination, it was still cold, but Jessica was pretty much done with the normal act. Cold was the least of her worries. Before she got out of the car, she looked to Vic, "Do you want to do this? I would hate for you to get hurt. But you need your notes for this story, yeah?" There was a short moment of silence as they looked at each other, trying to feel what each other was up to. "Listen, babe, I won't ever do that to you again until you know what's going to happen."

 

Slipping out of the car, she saw the young boy in the distance. She grinned deviously as she spotted the magazine. This conversation would be easy. "Excuse me," she said as she walked towards him. The dogs were a bit too loud, a bit too hellish, for him to hear her. But he saw her, boy did he ever. Looking around for the hell hounds before she got close to him. She sat down next to him, "nice eye candy you have there. Could be better though," she laughed lightly. "But I'm here for business, unfortunately, is Hector here? We have a delivery for him."

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"What? Who Err...." said the young man, dropping his magazine. It had a bit picture of Mo Nah, a Vietnamese celebrity of no talent bar her looks, dressed up in a chainmail bikini and swining an axe. Very good hair and make up, one could appreciate that at least. 

 

He half recovered and stood up. He wasn't quite as tall as Jessica, so it didn't have quite the effect he was hoping for.

 

"What delivery? I don't think we ordered anything" he asked, a little confused. Maybe even a little suspicious. "We deal in scrap, and you don't get delivered scrap. We buy it, we sell it" he explained, scratching his head. "You don't look like no scrap..."

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Standing up when the boy started questioning her, Jessica shook her head as he droned on about scraps. "Not a scrap delivery. Communications between parties. We are messengers." She could still hear the barking around the junk yard. Waving Vic closer, she readied her and herself just in case the beasts made their entrance.

 

"Listen," she said picking up the tossed magazine, and thumbing through it, "If Hector doesn't get what's coming to him, well," she looked at him, "I'm sure that'll be on your hands." She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned to the side like one of the photos of the busty barbarian babe, "wouldn't want that would you?"

Edited by Crimson Beguiler

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"Oh...yeah, sure...." said the young man. He put his hand through his hair and tried to look professional, or cool, or handsome. Or something. 

 

"I mean, Hector's the boss. But, look lady, I better take you there. I mean, the dogs..." he looked worried. 

 

"Well, I think they are dogs, anyway" he muttered, unsure of himself. 

 

"I mean, you don't want to be around if the dogs aren't chained up. To be honest, you don't want to be around here when they are chained up, either. But if you have business with Hector..."

 

He looked concerned. 

 

"Are you sure you want to see him, missy? I mean, Hector is one mean son of a gun. Dangerous guy..."

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"Aw, aren't you nice," Jessica said in a half-teasing tone. Half, only because she needed to take care of those things after Hector. She straightened up - those poses were hard to hold, and she was a dancer - and looked to Vic and nodded for her to follow them.

 

"Those dogs don't sound like real dogs," she said flippantly as she followed the boy, but keeping a watch out for the dogs, "I mean, junk yard dogs  are mean and alland all but," she trailed off seeing what he would say. Playfully she put her ever warm hand on the back of his neck for a second. This weather, even in jest, warmth was needed. "We never introduce to each other. I'm Killian. And you?"

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"Mack" replied Mack, biting his lip. 

 

"Vic" said Vic, keen to interject and be more than a lemon. 

 

"Errr, right" said Mack, nodding at Vic and wondering what kind of day this would be. 

 

Not the best, one would imagine!

 

"I don't think they are real dogs. Not any more" said Mack, muttering to himself. "Not for the past few days. I mean, they were always mean and nasty. I got some scars on my leg from a couple of months back. But now, hell. Well, hell. Literally hell. I swear i can smell brimstone on their breath..."

 

He bit his lip harder. 

 

"I shouldn't be talking like this. Boss man gonna kill me!" he gulped. 

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Jessica mentally flinched when Vic said her real name. Well, it's not like Hector would get anything on them. And the dogs were on the short list. "There there," she said in a soft comforting voice, "I have your back, Mack. In fact, I'll let you know something before hand. We're," she looked to Vic with a wink and then back to Mack, "OK, I'm here to solve your canine problems. Your boss fed the dogs magical meat. And well, yeah, they're not dogs anymore."

 

She took Mack's hand in hers, warming him up a bit more, and looked into his eyes, wordlessly asking for trust, but if that didn't work out, lust would.

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"Uhhh...ok..." gasped Mack, his hands sweaty. He pulled them back, out of some strange self preservation. 

 

But his resistance had crumbled. 

 

"Look, missy. Hector was always a mean guy. Something off about him, ya know? I mean there are rumours. Like he is into witchcraft, or satanism, or something. He's got some creepy books he reads. Like what was that one I saw yesterday. The Sundered Veil and The Burning Eye..."

 

"Read it. Rubbish" sighed Vic. 

 

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure it is all rubbish" said a put out Mack. "He casts spells, you see. Nothing came of it, until a few weeks ago, when he cast some spell on the dogs. And he looks pretty pleased with himself since. They...they got a taste for flesh...." he mumbled, awkward. "Human flesh...."

 

"And tuna" he added. "Don't ask me why, but they seem to love tuna...."

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Jessica listened to Mack's plight, taking in everything she could. Of course Hector would use the powers of evil for his own gain. Forget great responsibility, everyone used it for their own gain. Jessica did use it for her own gain, sure, but never to harm anyone who didn't deserve it. Super-drugged up punks destroying a burger joint? Yeah. Evil tree who wanted to eat her friend's cat? Yeah.The dogs, however, didn't deserve this. But now, unless they didn't stand down, they were going to have to be put down. And it was all going to be on Hector's head.

 

"I assume there's some tuna around here somewhere then," she questioned Mack, "it would be helpful." She continued to follow Mack, "just stay close. I got your back."

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"Yeah, we got Tuna. It helps keep 'em quiet..." replied Mack, turning over to his little hut full of tea and - yes - tins of tuna. 

 

"A dozen of these in a bowl, well, it would keep them distracted" he explained, setting to work with a tin opener. And lo, in a minute or two Jessica had a nice bowl stuffed full of tuna in a heap. 

 

The growling continued - and intensified. It seemed the unseen dogs inside the scrapyard could smell the tuna from afar. One could almost hear the saliva drooling from their lips in their barking. 

 

"Right, lets just hope they don't take a fancy to your flesh...I mean...uh...a fancy to your body....uhhhh....." mumbled Mack falling over his words as his eyes tumbled around Jessica's body in an attempt to stay descent. 

 

"I got my gun if it goes wrong..." he explained, proudly, showing the rather poor quality firearm tucked into the back of his jeans.

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Jessica didn't want it to come to that. But you have to do what you have to do sometimes. She nodded as he pointed to his side arm. She smiled, wordlessly, showing him her hand light up with flame. Still, the dogs were corrupted, and she couldn't uncorrupt them. At least they had a distraction. "Mack, are you going to come with us? Hm? I said I'd have your back." She looked him in the eye, "I don't want you hurt. Besides, I want you to witness what happens to bad people who do bad things," she grinned wickedly.

 

She took the bowl of tuna  from him if he'd let her. "I've been told I do taste sweet," she laughed, recalling his earlier statement. Humor, even if gallows, to alleviate the horror they were about to face.

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And so...

 

Mack, Vic, and Jess walked into Hector's scrap yard. It was, predictably, full of scrap. Rust and trash, and a fair bit of plain refuse. Hector would be hard pressed to make a living with this mess. Perhaps something else was going on?

 

The three dogs were something else. And they were going on. 

 

They had a reddish brown tint, were large, and full of fury and muscle. Their teeth were sharp, and one could indeed smell the whiff of sulfur and brimstone about them. Each had a chain around their necks, tied to a strong metal pole suspended in concrete in the centre of the scrapyard. They could not reach Jessica and her friends, and probably couldn't snap the chains. 

 

Probably. They looked pretty fierce, and they had eyes on Jessica, something infernal in the look, like a connection that made them agitated and fixed on her. 

 

Unfortunately, the only way to the central hut, home to Hector, was through the dogs. The chains were long enough for them to serve as effective guard dogs - although right now they were incensed enough to be something more primal and ferocious...

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Her eyes narrowed on the hell-beast dogs. She'd thought they'd been roaming the yard. Not so much. Still they could get her, Vic, and Mack in one fell swoop. And here she was with fake human... tuna. She'd never look at it the same way. Maybe her Gluttony would. but that's a story for another time.

 

She looked to her two stows, "whatever you see happen next, I want you to remember - I've probably been through worse." She looked to Mack, "here's hoping this plan of yours works." She looked to Vic with a smile, "believe in me."

 

With a sprint, she launched towards the dogs, bowl of 'flesh' in hand, ready to throw and distract.

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The Tuna was, as said, a delicacy. 

 

Mayhap on another day, with another bowl of tuna, with another fleshy treat, the rabid dogs would have chosen to chomp jaw around succulent thigh (or other limb of equally succulent nature), but today...

 

...they paused. 

 

Eyes moved left to tuna, and eyes moved right to Ms. Jessica Witchblood. And eyes move left and right again. And, to punctuate their indescicion, once more did they move left, and once more right. 

 

Then, slobbering tongue decided. They punced on the tuna. Gaseous and noxious brimstone was their breath, and their breath, it should be said, was both Gaseous and noxious - for the point must be made clear that these were not ordinary dogs but canines of the most infernal variety. 

 

For now, the dogs were distracted, but they were eating so very fast...

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As the demon dogs chomped down on the fake flesh, she called upon her scant knowledge of actual infernal language. Why didn't she do this before? You try talking to dogs while they're hungry. She cleared her throat and boldly approached the hell beasts as they ate. "Hey," she called out to them, in her pidgin Infernal language, before whistling to get their attention, "you guys. Got more where that came from. Come here. I want to give you more. If you give me something."  She waved the bowl of stuff.

 

As they got closer she even threw some their way. "What happened to you," she asked questions slowly. They were demons, but they were still of low intelligence. "Who did this to you?" She smirked, maybe some potential allies? "I can get you more of this stuff. Want to follow me?"

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"Yummy!"

 

"More!"

 

"Food!"

 

Came the replies, in a rather brusque and unfriendly manner. And whilst it seemed the Dogs could speak that terrible tongue, and had some basic intelligence, the emphasis was very much on the word basic. 

 

The alpha dog out of the three took the lead in talking. 

 

"We ate new meat. Tasty and hellish! Made us strong! Strong enough to eat chompy chompy human!" he said, slobbering. "We eat you! We gaurd dogs! We gaurd! Mmmm...yummy!" it slobbered. 

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