The Universe's Mixer

The hallways of the hospital were silent and empty. Nobody roamed. Nobody even breathed. A peculiar scent wafted through on the currents of the air conditioner. Blood. From two different sources. It filled his nose and perked his senses. He found that it made him feel more alive.

It felt like forever since the last time he'd killed, when in reality, it wasn't so long ago. Moments, hours, days, weeks. None of it really mattered time wise. Every kill was in his mind, perfectly preserved so that he could visit them again at any moment. Any time he liked, he could go back and relive every second. Feel the blood on his hands again. The knife blade sinking into flesh. The screams. The struggles. That first acrid aroma of blood as it hit the air and continued to spill out.

Hannibal moved the hallways, silently, carefully. Hunting.

Maroon eyes surveyed the vast expanses, through the darkness, looking for silhouettes, for bodies. His sharp ears listening for the tell tale beating of another human heart. His own rhythm carefully toned down into background noise.

His fingers gently clutched the handle of a wickedly curved knife. Something he might have picked up from reading his own books. A deadly osprey claw-shaped serrated blade. His intention was to use it on the next person he came across.

Now it was at the end.

Slowly I pushed the doors of the hospital open and walked through. So many people moving around but no one really noticed me. I paused long enough to find where the good doctor likely would be.

One quick glance and then I was off again.

Quick and easy, walking without pause. Through the halls and around the corridors, and then I found him.

Moving fast, the knife flashing in the light, the blood such a stark to the white walls and floors.

My chest bleeds along with the bodies I've killed
I find peace at someone else's death
My life is empty
and I've lost all my sense of humanity


And once again I move. Careful to stay out of reach, out of sight. How would I find him? Where would he be? Did he know the pretty little River had already stopped? Or would the news be the last thing he heard.

There was not time to clean the knife so it was warm and wet in my pocket.

The door slammed open and the knife was in motion the moment he was seen.

"Dr Tam I presume?"

I've already forgotten the last time I dreamed of
today I just have nightmares
I see the heads I've decapitated
with a lot of blood on the hair

Will she run, crawl, or carry?

Fiesty wasn't she? Oh this one had fire. Liked that I did. At the first sounds of my steps, she knew. And she ran. And soon there were two sets of footsteps along the pavement.

The City was frenzied. So many , so quickly. So much blood.

Not to many more now.
Not too long at all.

In the dark, on the faint glow of the lights, and she fought back. Not many did that even with the wounds I'd given her at first attack. She was quick, this soldier and fighter, but I was quicker and more than once caught her with the blade.

Her blood dripped and flowed to the ground, and it was a beautiful sight. It was feed the City, and the City would be happy once again.

Will she run, crawl, or carry?

Oh pretty little girl, so smart, so misunderstood. Would you try to get into my head? Would you dare go there even after all you've seen?

So aware, so alert. So seemingly untouchable.

Almost it seemed.

"Pretty little River, who left you out here all alone?"

We just passed under the streetlight and again in the dark. The street was empty, or at least very quiet. Just footsteps on the pavement as I kept following. Would she run, oh I hope she would. There was nothing so grand as the chase.

"Come little River, come let's play."

I reached out grasping her hair, pulling her back against me. An arm snaked around her, knife in that hand Struggle or no, it would not be too long.

Now this was fun. The hunter was hunting and I was hunting the hunter.

Detective plus magic.
Equal parts formidable.

They moved into the darkened part and I followed close but not to be detected. Oh the irony of that didn't escape me either.

I would not interfere with his work. And if his demon killed him well, I would be disappointed but the job would be done.

The City didn't specify how, just that it must be done.

Staying behind part of the mausoleum, I watched. It was rather intriguing and as Harry turned his back, dispatching his foe, I moved from my hiding place. Hidden in the dark, quiet as possible, the knife wielded. And soon enough I was behind him.

"You missed one."

It almost seemed unfair, going after him. But he put himself in danger, sought out the mysteries. There would be no treasure here, nothing to teach.

The knife wouldn't do and by gun just didn't seem proper. But it seemed that the man's own fears would be best put to use. True it might not kill him but fear and terror can often work to the advantage of the hunter going after prey.

He was being chased through the City, or shall I say herded. Careful and deliberate, sending the good Doctor to the right place, at the right time.

And as he stopped and paused, I came up close, and shoved him one last through the door and pulled it shut.

Who would have thought the reptiles at the CIty's pet store could have gotten loose so quickly. Some worse than others according to some, especially with the windows barred and the rows and rows of the anguineous reptiles just inside.

"Good bye, Dr. Jones."

Here Kitty, Kitty...


Oh she was good but I was better.
Moving through the streets, the alleys, quiet and stealthy.

Was I hunting her?
Or she hunting me?

I admire the skill but thought upon the irony. The City it seemed, did not like felines. Whether real or alien or euphemism, the City did. not. want.

Or perhaps just luck of the draw.

And draw I did, the knife from its place, watching her and watching her and watching her some more. It moved through the air, the shiny blade of silver. Faster and faster it moved until it was directly upon her. Right there, straight at her chest.


Here Kitty, Kitty.
C'mon let's play.

Not very long now, all is almost complete.

I walk slowly now, keeping to the shadows, going undetected. He seems distracted or perhaps just doesn't notice. Longer legs catch up to him, tracking him, moving behind.

No gun for this one, it didn't feel right. He was smart, but a fighter of late. Not to be triffled with? But then who among them was.

"Nice night for it, don't you think?"

I was close now, the knife out, my other hand grabbing him and pulling him close.

"Well it was."

Three little beauties all in a row. They were not together but would all be the next to go.

The City was impatient and my bidding nary ceased. The deeds must be done.

The knife sat in my pocket but there could be no mistake. No the gun, it was steady in my hand, the scope clear as ever in the night.


First came the brains. The smart beauty who sought to solve problems.

Perhaps given more time, she might have solved this.

BANG


Next came the beauty, the one who sold her love. I was intrigued and wondered how many had. She had travelled a great deal and seen many things I knew. Where she went now, now she had no choice.

BANG


And then came the mystery. Could she tell the future? Could she see the past? She has ancient bloodlines. Had she seen this, her own future and resign to what it was?

BANG



The City would be appeased.

Oh the irony of this one was not lost
as I walked through the lot to the hotel with the sign high above.


The man with the knife, so stealthily sneaking,
once behind the shower curtain, but he wasn't peeking.

Behind the desk at the Bates Motel,
some saw it comfort, others as hell.

In I entered with a smile and grin,
the knife in my hand ready to begin.

He was fast, but I was faster,
And around here the City was master.

The knife goes deep and hits its mark,
shadows in light, and the rest in the dark.

Pretty little angel, wandering the earth.
Wanting to protect those she lived amongst now.

Lost her wings, forced to stay here.
Was it suffering or has she accepted her fate?

If she died, would she return to her previous existence?
We would have to see.

The City wanted answers.
And the questions lay in her.

Walking slowly, coming up quick.
The knife moved fast so she wouldn't suffer.




Pretty little angel, not wandering the earth anymore.

There aren't many hints as to the state of those in The City these past few days. No clues as to if the panic has risen, or if people have just stopped caring. My guess is that everybody is too afraid to come outside now that so many have died. But I could be wrong.

The most dangerous ones have been picked off one by one. There are a few more out there, but their time will come, and enough of them are out of the way now that I have very little to worry about.

Not that worry has been on my mind.

I watched as the pretty little scientist worked. I watched as she went about her day as if nothing was going on in the outside world to be concerned with. If any of the police came to her, she would be able to help them out. This I know.

Perhaps that's why I sat with glee as I waited for her, knowing that soon enough there wouldn't be anybody with her skills for the police to turn to. They'd have to find some other way, if they were even looking.

It's a dark alley I wait in, one I know she's going to pass by, because this is The City's will, and The City will bring her to me.

Jesse wasn't exactly sure what he should be doing at the moment. The last time he'd interfered in something big, really bad things had started to happen to the people around him. And this time, he had the ability to just stop it all.

He had learned a long time ago, that you didn't mess with The City or it's choices.

Of course, that left him feeling rather shitty about everything. Why have abilities at all when you weren't allowed to use them?

There weren't many people that he was close to anymore. Max was gone, Buffy missing. That left Fray. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, because she damn well could, but he really didn't want to risk it.

Which left drinking.

Drinking a lot.

Once again, Jesse Custer found himself in a bar, drinking himself into a stupor.

One little
two little
three little
slayers

Three little
two little
one little
slayer

I know why it is that I shouldn't get close to this one.

She looked pissed off as I followed her through The City, waiting for the perfect time. The perfect chance. Like she might have just come away from some kind of argument.

I do miss the intimacy, however.

The gun is put into position like the other times. The shot lined up.

The shot taken.

Lee thought that she was adjusting to the City fairly well, all things considered. She'd found an apartment that suited her needs--small, spartan, and it came complete with her stuff from the tiny house that she rented in Louisiana. She'd thought it better not to ask about that part. She'd even found that her leg hadn't been broken after all. The morning after she collapsed into bed, she'd found that while it hurt like a motherfucker, it was still usable. She'd taken a few days to soak it in hot water, watch bad daytime TV, and pop painkillers. Now she walked with only a slight tendency to favor that leg, and tried to avoid bumping into any chairs or counters. There was still a rather large bruise that covered most of her thigh, though it was finally starting to fade from angry purples and red to a sick greenish-yellow in places.

She'd even found a job, after a fashion: back to teaching gym at the local school. It could have been worse. Lee had never been one for a desk job, and she preferred working with kids to working with adults.

And it seemed there was other work for her here. She'd been hearing about a series of murders, and she was bored enough to look into it. She'd patched up her cloak and hood yet again and had leaped to the top of a building downtown, watching.

((Not just open to the characters who like prowling rooftops! She can jump down and join whatever character gets thrown in if they don't feel like being several stories up in the air.))

It was almost sad, this one. So new. So fresh.

He never even had a chance.

The green of the skin brightened the glass of the scope, making him stand out worse than a sore thumb. He hadn't at all been hard to find.

The stock of the gun butted up against my shoulder. Fitting snugly. Feeling right. The cross hairs were settled right between those red eyes. With ease and grace, the trigger was squeezed back slowly. Squeeze, don't pull.

A sound rang out, something that I was becoming intensely familiar with.

Jennifer had found "her" apartment. It was in a building called The Manchester. The inside of it sort of looked like her house, only smaller. Some of her things were here. It was a tiny bit unnerving, but nice. It was as if somebody wanted her to feel comfortable. When she stopped thinking about that somebody being the City itself, it stopped being creepy and started feeling a little nice.

Somebody caring about her for a change.

When she felt settled, she made her way to work. It was one building. Everything was here. In this one building. Compact. Easy to get to. It was a little bit like back home, mostly because back there they'd tried to shove everything they didn't want to deal with in one place. It was in the same police station that she'd found herself in when she'd arrived here. Which turned out to be the only police station in the entire place.

Government here, it turned out, was pulled apart. Made into the departments she'd read about in the library. CIA, FBI, the ATF, and some she'd never heard about. They all had their own hallway here.

Jennifer was apparently a part of the FBI.

The library Simon had taken her to had given her a lot of information, but she'd had to go back to learn more specifically about the FBI. For the most part, it sounded like her old job. Just with better cases, more interesting cases. And lacking the part where she had to find funding. Plus a whole lot more power.

She was a little surprised when she got to work, found an office with her name on the door, and a file on her desk.

There was a serial killer on the loose.

"My first case is a serial killer." She said with a smile. Thinking about how she wouldn't have to track down families of the victims. Which was extra super because she was pretty sure that most of these people didn't have family here.

But then she realized what she was going to have to be looking into.

"My first case is a serial killer." This time, she said it with a sigh.

This one is loud. She is entitled. She's a supreme bitch with a great rack. It's almost a shame to kill her, but The City wants what The City wants. I can't do anything but what it requires.

Besides, like almost every other kill, it's set up way too perfectly.

I could do this one up close, because she's incompetent. She's not a killer, not a hunter, not anything that should be able to stand up to me. But something, The City I'm guessing, is telling me to not get close to her. That she's dangerous now somehow.

The shot is lined up.

There's nobody else around.

Perhaps too confidently, I start to squeeze the trigger.

Unexpectedly, a flock of birds explodes onto the scene.

The shot goes low.

Jack, was drunk.  Or he was trying and well on his way.

This place was weird enough and then some lunatic fringe starts killing everyone.  Two of the Jacks were already gone and he couldn't find word of the third.  Whether that was good or bad he didn't know but if he went too, what would keep the crackpot from coming after him?  Not that Jack feared death, not in the way most people would. 

But then again, not just the Jacks were dead either.  All manner of folks were being knocked off so to speak.

And what better way that to spend the start of chaos and the possibility of the end of everything?  Sex and Drinking.    And Captain Jack Harkness had come across the bar first.  He sat there and toyed with his glass, the third of many he hoped.  Rum and Coke, always a good choice and even better when made a double.   Jack smiled and talked to the bartender, some would say flirted, Jack would say there's a difference?

Jack missed the aliens, and the Weevils, and pizza delivery.

Yes indeed, Captain, Jack was well on his way to being drunk.

Oh this was just too good. A better situation could be planned like this. After one but got another in bonus. It was too perfect. From body language as I watched one couldn't mistake he thought she did it and she probably thought the same of him. Wouldn't it be a surprise to them both that they were wrong?

One good shot would have been nice but complicated. The moment had to be right.

He left and the moment was right. She stood in the room alone now. It was time.

Ready
Aim.


Fire.

The shot was good and the scope moved down.

Waiting.
Planning.

He exited out onto the sidewalk and footsteps barely started when the action was repeated.

Ready.
Aim.


Fire.

Quick.
Hide.
Run.
Escape.



The City is appeased.