Jack Landors (robinindahood) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-08-07 12:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | jack landors |
Who: Jack Landors [narrative]
What: Scourge attack! -Jack gets unlucky on patrol.
When:August 7th
Where: The streets. His usual spots.
Warnings: violence, TBA
It probably wasn't the brightest idea, going out on patrol alone without telling anyone. Things had been quiet lately anyways. He was assuming this night would go like all the others did. He saw no reason to announce to the world what he was doing. He always patrolled alone these days, Jack was used to things. How they worked. Which bars were good for which kind of information, how to get what he needed without slayer backup, and what he was capable of handling on his own. It took him a year to get where he was. To gain the leeway and trust he had. He'd made his share of mistakes, sure. But he tried to make up for them. Make things right and fix them the best he could.
He was far from perfect. The last encounter with Sky had shown him how far he really was. He hadn't been thinking clearly at all. Hadn't been making the best judgment calls lately. Jack should have learned that going alone was the stupidest mistake he could have possibly made. That he hadn't been feeling well, wasn't at the top of his game. Hadn't been for the past few days. He should have taken the time off but there was a new threat. He wanted to help more than anything. Wanted to prove that he was still able.
The night was warm and the streets were quiet. No demons in sight, no vampires with a death wish. Nothing. He was starting to think the night was a wash when he heard a sound behind him. He paused and looked back, nothing. Just a rat that ran past his shoe. The lack of street lights made it difficult to see, for whatever reason they weren't working. Jack just figured it was all coincidence. Besides it usually worked out in his favor when it was dark. Vampires tended not to like the light, even the artificial ones outside.
He continued down the narrow street behind apartments. your just being paranoid, don't be afraid of what's not there focus on what is He mentally told himself and stopped under a fire escape in attempt to get his bearings back. It was quiet and it was making him nervous. Whatever was out there in the shadows, not even the bad things wanted to talk about. He'd only heard rumors. No reason to be worried, right?
While his eyes were closed and the shadows around him seemed to settle, the sound of boots caught his attention. Someone or something was defiantly there. Jack turned and looked in every direction the back alley provided, There weren't many places things could hide. Go figure, right as he'd calmed down, his pulse was up again, racing. For a minute he felt ill again. There were beads of sweat gathering on his skin until he wiped them away with his arm. "I know your there, and I'm not in the mood for games." Suddenly he wished he were. He heard sounds. Not just from a single beastie in the night, but several. Breathing. Shuffling.
Jack backed up. The exit to the streets was a ways behind him. Why was it always alleys? He hated alleys. He really needed to stop checking them. " You know guys, this really is cliche. Can't we do this someplace else? Where theirs light and sun? Sounds like a better idea to me." He thought they were vampires. One of them spoke. "We will not stop until each and every half breed is erased. He squinted at them. That didn't sound like a vampire motto...
Vampires weren't that eerie. Jack looked up. Rooftops, fire escape. They were still pretty far, but if he had to --he'd have a better chance at escaping. "Can't we talk about this?" He tried, none of them answered. "Tough room." The first shape Jack could make out was almost militant. Army uniforms? He couldn't really see the details in the darkness but he had this feeling of dread. These guys wanted to play hardball? Well alright then.
He pulled out his S.P. license, and with a silent command changed to the red ranger. Red lights temporarily flooded the alley and reflected against the brick walls on either side of him. The demons seemed less than impressed even as Jack pulled out two blasters of concentrated energy and sent them at the group that stared in silence. A shot directly at the head of one, and through the chest of another. They both fell. The blasts went straight through them and bounced off the wall. Jack ducked, and the demons began towards him. They were rough and brutal, didn't enjoy the idea that a human had that kind of power. But he wouldn't for long.
Jack sent a red boot into another as it came to grab at his neck with a vice grip and barely wormed free. Another was right behind the first. Jack was between a rock and a hard place. They'd cornered him against the wall with no way out. The leader of the group was smart and wicked fast. Had his men surround the strangely dressed fighter in a half circle. There would be no way out. No escape. One distracted by a lunge, another to the right with a knife. Jack felt it pierce his uniform, through his side and twist. He couldn't contain a sound of pain. He couldn't do much as he felt the morph break. His uniform fell away. So that was what it was like being stabbed.
Beads of moisture gathered on his skin. Crimson blood began to pool in the soldiers hands that held him upright, and they began to lose interest. What they had in their hands was human and would bleed out soon enough. The bloody knife was thrown away to the other side of the alley amongst black trash bags where it likely wouldn't draw attention. Jack was thrown to the ground and left for dead. They gave a glance back at the fallen body, it didn't move and they were pleased. They left the same way they came, leaving the bodies of the two dead behind and the fighter with them as a message of what was to come.
Jack lie on the concrete. Unable to move, unable to breathe evenly as he felt his chest tighten. The only reason he was still alive was because of the suit. He knew if nobody found him soon, he would die. He could taste the bitter copper flavor in the back of his throat. If he'd only seen it coming...Could he have phased it? Who knew. He wasn't coherent enough to wonder. He was enough to push himself up. Prop his back against the brick wall behind him and reach for his morpher. His hand brushed shakily, slowly dipped into his jacket. Blood on his hand made the morpher difficult to flip open, but he did. He used the life line he never used.
"Sky.."
His voice was weak and he couldn't even lift his hand anymore. It rested in his lap. Open and emergency homing signal activated.