There Ain't No Justice Number 075

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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO" OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO' OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO" OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO' OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO |-----------------------------------------------------------------------------| | | | There Ain't No Justice | | | | #75 | | | |-----------------------------------------------------------------------------| - Blood Lust 2 : Stalking Buffy - by Anonymous Bosch My plane had landed a bit early, so I guess I missed the limosine Caine had promised would be waiting for me. Which was fine by me, as the less interference I had to deal with the better. On my way out of the airport, I bought a newspaper and a roadmap at a kiosk, and made my way out into the humid air of Atlanta. Caine had asked me to come here to deal with a problem he'd been having with some of his operatives disappearing. Seems someone using the outrageous name of Buffy the Vampire Slayer had been stalking his employeees, and leaving oakwood stakes in their personal mailboxes shortly before their dissappearances. My job was to find this Buffy character, and put an end to her predations. Or something like that. Sitting on a park bench in one of the better parts of town, I began making marks on the roadmap I'd purchased. The homes of the employees in red, the places where their bodies had been found in green. Slowly, a pattern began to emerge. Whoever this Buffy was, she lived near the center of all those little marks, i was sure of it. I began my search by wandering the neighborhoods I thought it most likely for Buffy to dwell in. I kept my knives handy, out of sight in the sleeves of my windbreaker. I tried to look lost. My "lost tourist" look must have worked, because soon enough I found myself facing a trio of youths armed with an assortment of pipes and switchblades. They demanded money, not to play video games, but to go purchase a nintendo. I smiled at them, and assured them that they would not go unpunished for their life of crime. The largest one, presumably the leader, leered at me and swung his pipe. I heard it swoosh thru the air as I ducked under it and rammed one of my knives into his throat, while flicking my left hand to launch my other knife into the eyesocket of the youth behind me. The third manling took a step back as I drew my knife from the throat of his superior, and licked the bade. His response was pure bravado... I could see the terror creeping into his eyes. He drew himself down into a knife fighter's crouch, and began to toss his blade from hand to hand. We circled one another for a moment, and then he made his first lunge. Since my left hand was still free, I used it to catch his arm as his blade sailed past me, and bent his arm behind his back. I then used his own momentum against him, forcing him to the ground. As we fell, I twisted his own knife until it pointed into the small of his back, and our joint impact drove it home, severing his spinal cord. I picked myself up, and surveyed the carnage. I dragged my three entrees deeper into the alley, propping the knife artist up where he could watch me enjoy my grisly repast. I heard him vomit only twice... the first time when I scooped out his leader's eyes and ate them like devilled eggs, and the second time when I dished out the other youth's innards and began to lay them out on the pavement. Finally, my feeding nearly complete, I drew up close to him and looked deeply in his eyes. Using my recovered knife, I began to slowly cut away at his shirt, revealing his bare chest. He struggled a bit, but I used my greater strength to hold him still while I carved a happy face into his bare chest. Finally, I grabbed him by the hair and drew his head way back, exposing his neck. Eschewing my knives, I let my teeth sink deeply into his flesh, grinding them to cut my way thru the thick flesh & cartilage of his windpipe until I found his main artery and began to feed on the lifeforce there. As I fed, I heard footsteps behind me, followed by a muffled gagging sound. I quickly turned to see a lithe, blond haired valkyre garbed in black leather, wearing a bandoleir of wooden stakes over one sholder. It could only be Buffy, I thought. "Get away from him, you wretched vampire!" she cried. "You don't even begin to realize your peril, child," I chuckled, "for I am both more and less than that which you pretend to hunt. "I think you'll find me more than adequetely prepared for the likes of thee," she cried, as she quickly drew one of her stakes and hurled it in my direction. "Take that, foul vampire!" I let the stake fly true, and strike me in the heart. It mattered little... I was immune to death until every last erg of stored life energy within me was expended. I estimated that after 3 years of this existance, I could withstand a hundred or more of her stakes. Purely to bolster her confidence, I let myself fall backwards, gurgling in pain, when her weapon struck home. I wanted her closer, so much closer... I was twitching my legs and really making bad theater of the whole process when I heard her step closer and place her foot on my chest. It was a measure of my great personal restraint not to burst out laughing when she proclaimed to the scattered corpses in the alleyway: "I, Buffy, have rid the world of yet one more of the evil scourge called Vampires! Let the churchbells peal with the sound of righteousness!" I just couldn't take it anymore. Stupidity is one thing, bad (over)acting is another. Who does she thnk she is, William Shatner? I let my left hand curl once more around the handle of my knife, and swiftly reached up to slash her left calf. As she hopped backwards, clutching at the wound, I rolled over and smiled at her as I pulled out the stake. Allowing myself to get caught up in her delusions of theatre, I quoth: "Tis nobler to suffer the slings and stakes of outrageous Buffy...." "But... but... but... you're supposed to be dead! I staked you fair and square!" she cried, dancing in a little circle, clutching her injured calf. "Whoever told you life was fair was obviously trying to sell you something, my dear" I quipped back, as I rose to my feet and gathered up both my knives. Seeing that I was not, indeed, dead, Buffy fled the alleyway and dashed off into the night. While her black garb did much to hide her in the gloom, the tiny trail of blood she was leaving behind was rediculously simple to follow. At last it led me to an old brownstone, where the lights shone only on the topmost floor. I strolled my way around the building, looking for boltholes and finding none. Buffy obviously never thought of anyone following her home, or at least, she'd only bothered to trap the interior. I wandered my way into the backyard of the brownstone, where the nice grey telephone box awaited. I reached into my bag and drew forth the el-cheapo K-Mart special touchtone I carried with me on business trips, and plugged it into the first jack. It was dead. Jacks 2 & 3, however, revealed dialtones. Dialing a common linesmans test number, I scribbled down both of the numbers thus revealed. Calling the first only got me the high pitched whine of a modem, but calling the second got me a slightly breathless but easily recognisable Buffy... "Hiya Sweetums! Its me, your friend from the alley. You should really see a doctor about that cut, or it might scar" I quipped. "You bastard! You'll never get me in here! I have the whole place boobytrapped! Thermite charges, tripwires leading to shotguns, the works. You won't make it past the first floor, you bloodletting weirdo!" "Well, my love, maybe I won't have too. Talk to you soon!" I chuckled as I hung up the phone. Once I was sure she wasn't going to begin hurling things at me from the roof, I dialled 911 and spoke to the nice policeman who answered. I told him all about the crazy lady who dressed up like a B-Movie actress and who claimed to have all sorts of unlicenced weapons and explosives at such & such address. I also informed him that she was no doubt somehow involved in the string of "vampire stakings" that had been reported lately. He thanked me, and inside of an hour, I was bemused to see a pair of police cars draw up in front of the brownstone. I, of course, had taken refuge on the roof of a nearby building, the better to watch the festivities. Buffy had obviously pulled out all the stops, thinking that I would be the first one to come beating on her door. The first cop knocked on the door - his mistake. It shattered in a burst of flame, throwing the nice policeman halfway across the street, his uniform smoldering. I saw Buffy's head pop out of one window, cradling a crossbow in her arms... seeing the policemen, she gasped openly and ducked back inside. Within two minutes, the S.W.A.T. and Bomb Squads had arrived, along with a hundred or so other policemen. The street outside of Buffy's brownstone was a sea of red and blue flashing lights, I nearly fell out of my seat with laughter as they began to spread out through Buffy's building, deactivating her traps and confiscating her weapons. At last, a pair of officers led a bunny-slippered Buffy to a waiting squad car and drove her off into the night. Using my expense account, I took a nice room at one of Atlanta's finer hotels. Since the Lust was not truly upon me, I found it easy to blend in and enjoy some of the finer points of the nightlife there. I made it a point to follow Buffy's saga in the newspapers, who were truly having a field day with her claims of vampires stalking the night streets. Her trail was very brief... she was found not guilty by reason of insanity. Of course, nobody had counted on Buffy being as resourceful as she turned out to be. Within days of being confined to the local high-security mental institution, she escaped and made her way home to the old brwonstone where she used to live. How she knew I'd be waiting, I'll never know. She was plainly a sight to see. Still garbed in her hospital gown, her beautiful blonde hair seemed to float about her head like an angelic cloud. The look in her eyes was simply too delicious for words... caught somewhere between fear and madness, she shone with an inner light. She had lunged into what was once her bedroom and and had quickly punched a hole in the sheetrock wall, drawing forth a bundle of stakes. She turned like some tortured, captive animal when I chuckled at her from the corner of the room, letting my feet drop to the floor from their resting place on her dresser. "YOU!" she cried, her voice frantic with the fear of the hunter who has become the hunted. "Yes, Buffy, it is I, Mordecai. With all that has gone between us, I thought that we should at last be on a first name basis. Can you feel it in the air, Buffy? Great things are going to happen tonight." "You bet your sweet ass, vampire. You're going to DIE!" And with that, she lunged at me, a stake in both hands. I dodged her easily, as the hypertension driving her muscles made her prone to poor reflexes. My knives flashed, scoring cuts on both her cheeks. "First blood is mine, it would seem" I whispered, as her headlong rush ended itself with her toppling face-first over the foot of her bed. She rolled, coming to rest on her back, just as my leap brought me down upon her waist. A pair of quick slashes cut the tendons in her wrists, and her grip on the stakes loosened, letting them roll off the side of the bed. Her eyes were now like those of trapped animal. Sitting astride her hips, I brought my right hand up so I could lick the blade... and at that moment, my eyes caught sight of the full moon silloutted in the nearby window. As I drew the bloody steel across my tongue, the taste of it awakened me to the fullest. I smiled down at Buffy then, and something about the rapture in my eyes broke her resistance. She softened beneath me, her useless hands fumbling at my shirt in an effort to remove the garment. I brought my left knife up and under my shirt, and quickly cut the silken fabric away. I shrugged my way out of the remains of the shirt, as Buffy rubbed her bleeding wrists against me, coating me in a fine sheen of her blood. "Oh Buffy, I knew that you would understand...." I whispered, as I cut away at her hospital gown, revealing her body to the moonlight. She glistened like newly fallen snow. I slowly began to draw my knives along her arms, winding my way to her breast. Where the blades moved, they left behind deep red lines, and we both shuddered to the sound of her flesh parting. I began to work my artistry upon her body, and her moans worked counterpoint to my calling. At times, she herself would open those deep eyes of hers, and in a hoarse whisper suggest a change to this pattern or that one. Soon her chest, arms and face were a patchwork of bloody lines, and I rose from my sitting position to strip away the rest of her gown and the institutional panties below. I began with her right foot, carving a slow and steady spiral pattern into her leg. From time to time I would stop to lick the blood from an especially deep cut, as Buffy would not hold still. She kept beckoning me to cut her deeper, and deeper, as tiny shivers would shake her body the nearer I crept to her thighs. But I kept to my art, and cut no deeper than necessary to draw the required amount of blood. I did not want her dying on me before our dance had reached its cresendo. When I began to work my craft upon her left leg, i was careful to weave the scar I had made weeks before into the pattern that I wrought. I'd told her she should have had a doctor look at it, but she hadn't listened. Oh well, one works with the canvas one has, I guess. At last, Buffy was covered in my designs, except for her most private parts. I drew her legs up, and let her welcoming arms draw me upward and inward, until my blade was resting on the tip of her opening. With a mutual sigh, I let my blade sink deep within her vulva, twisting it when it met with resistance. Dark blood poured out of her like a dam breaking, and I nearly lost my balance when I leaned out over the edge of the bed to recover one of her stakes. The wooden stake she'd been carrying was about 24" long, and as thick as a man's forearm. I licked the tip of it, and then drove it home within her. She cried out then, a single pure note of pain and rapture. Her body arched, throwing droplets of blood everywhere like a dog shaking water from its back. I drew back on the stake, being carefull to keep a firm grip on it. Her body clearly did not wish to let it go... I could see her furrow her brows with her desire to keep the thick wooden shaft within her. Fighting against the suction within her, the stake finally came free in my hand. I set it aside as I dropped between her thighs and began to move within her myself, the feeling of her bloody and shredded inner walls sending powerful pulses of pleasure throught my body. Her breathing, too, began to make itself heard in rapid, panting gasps, until at last her body and mine convulsed together in a final, bloody cresendo. As the last vestiges of her orgasm began to subside, I looked one last time within her eyes, before driving her own stake deep into her chest, splintering the bone over her heart with a CRACK!. Hours later, on my flight back to Seattle, I fondled the other stake thru the fabric of my carry-on bag. I would remember Buffy with a smile.... ۲ Phoenix Modernz Systems: 908/830-TANJ The Syndicate: 908/506-6892 Another Bloody BBS: 61/3-754-3599 First United Church Kalisti: 404/552-5336 ۱ Urban Discipline / VaS World HQ : 313/464-1470 ۱ Earth's Dreamlands: 313/558-5024 RipCo ][: 312/528-5020 fActioN/DownGrade Evolution 205/995-0794 ͸ TANJ Mailing Address PO Box 174 Seaside Hts, NJ 08751 ۲ ;


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