Emptiness

Chapter 2

Authors notes:

Thank you for the nice reviews! I never thought that anyone would read my Story, but I decided to add a new chapter to it! XD

Most of you surely already noticed that English is not my native language, so I apologize for the strange grammar and some incorrect spelling that I might have overseen. Hope you enjoy it, though and still like it!

"Jack, get back into the house and discuss it out, like a man! Jack! I´m talking to you, damn it!"
The voice behind his back screeched, as he just slammed the door shut and left without even bother to look back.
"Sorry Rose, but not this time.."
His decision was made and this time, there was no turning back anymore, he couldn´t take it any longer, this was it.
The only one Jack felt sorry for was his son, poor kid, he´d better never be here to start with it, just like him... This was not his life, it was the life Rose wanted and maybe the others wanted to make him believe that he wanted to be this way, too.
It was cold outside and gray outside, even colder than the day when he left the hospital for the first time after his operation...and after his unexpected visitor...
A thin layer of frost covered the metal rail he rested his hand on, the cold instantly crawling into his fingers and his bare palm, as he stood at the bridge and let his gaze ramble over the open water of the Hudson River beneath him.
Why, for God´s sake should he stay with her any longer? There was absolutely no reason to live in this lie, those thoughts kept him awake almost every night ever since he decided to live with her, or maybe it was not entirely his own decision?

In all these years, they attempted to build up some kind of a perfect alternate universe, where everything worked out well for him, the perfect life, the perfect woman, the perfect lie. A strange fairy tale that sucked him into that little world of make believe, until he almost surrendered to it that, by living in this false life, everything will be ok. But every dream ends someday and with one stab, the little world he was spun into, broke apart, revealing it´s cruel fate and made him even fall deeper into the emptiness outside of its walls. So here he was, Jack the Ripper, The White Devil, Jack the fucking idiot, who thought he could lead a normal life like nothing ever happened, like he really was a normal person just like everyone else...it did not help him to think of himself. He was human, maybe...but most of his life, he was a tool...just like "him", a sigh, then he turned around to continue his way. His present task by now was to find himself a place were he could stay for a few days, until he found an apartment, or Rose found him before and tried to convince him to come back home with her. He had no home anymore, he did not want one, not the one Rose called their home.

Rose...she would be better off, if she finds herself another man who cared, he was just some kind of freak, she wanted to believe she fell in love with during the Big Shell incident. He tried to pretend that she was the one, he tried to make himself believe that she was the women he loved, but it never helped. She was a stranger to him, even after all those years they shared with each other, she was still Rose, the women he was expected to love, but he never could. It was not her fault, she made an effort to try to understand him, but most of the time it ended in frustrating discussions or him falling silent and simply going to bed. She wanted to understand who he was and what made him the way he was now, but there was nothing to understand..he was Jack, he was Raiden. Both names represented a lie on their own, both lives were just chapters in a book, and he was still reading between the lines in hopes to find himself in them...
He was an empty vessel, a toy, raised by someone, trained and now dropped onto the floor, a shell with a human face and the little what was left considered to be feelings...
"Your body has been reconstructed, due to a unique and outstanding new surgery technique. However, it is still quite experimental, and we suggest that you do not overstrain it for the next couple of months. The consequences are still not conceivable ..."

He remembered hearing something like that after his surgery but won´t give a fuck about it. What could possibly happen to him? He will find it out eventually, so what? Slowly, the distance between him and his so called home was growing farther, and he no longer noticed how far he´d gone already, without a determinate aim or directory he was heading for. The only thing he wanted, was to escape from his false life and nothing could keep him any longer, she would learn to live without him…
The wind was sharp and cold like ice, as he looked up the gray evening sky, it slowly started to snow again and the little ice crystals, the wind blew against his skin stung like needles. But Jack pulled up the collar of his coat and moved on, ignoring the tremble in his legs, he also ignored the tiny black spots that danced before his eyes and the pain in his temples. He felt slightly dizzy and his heart was pounding hard against his chest, there was a numb feeling in his limbs, maybe he overdid it a little…And maybe, just maybe, he should listen to Hal sometimes and stop carrying everything he did too far, just because he wanted to. But it was too late for regrets, and he knew it by the moment when those black spots began to spread out until he couldn´t see anything else more than darkness that surrounded him. His knees finally gave in as his body simply refused to obey, but there was no impact…

„Huh…what…happened?"

His voice was hoarse and thin, he felt ill and weak, as if he´d just made a world record at the New York Marathon. Jack opened his eyes to a dim room, his other senses and his mind, he noticed, began to wake up slowly, almost with a sluggish rate and no matter how much he tried to strain them, they still felt blunted, as if he was covered in a thin blanket of mist that blocked his senses. Slowly, with a trembling hand, he brushed some moist, white strands of hair out of his face, still feeling numb and shaky and his gaze was hazy. He was in a strange room, somewhere unknown, but not in his own home for which he was thankful, that much he knew by now. It was not some kind of hospital he was brought to, judging by the fact that he woke up sprawled out on a black leather lounge, with a warm blanket around his shoulders and a fire crackling in a nearby fireside. Strange...but not entirely unwelcome he decided and as his vision started to clear, he noticed a pale, almost snow white something, moving close to the other end of the L shaped lounge. The white spot grew some small, thin legs and a tail and finally stretched itself and yawned with pleasure, piercing its tiny claws into a pillow next to it. A white cat? Other people saw white mice or pink elephants...however, judging by the booming pain in his temples, he was apparently awake and still alive. Swinging his legs over the edge of the lounge he tried to sit up and instantly regretted it as his head began to spin, and he literally saw stars. With a soft but frustrated moan, he let himself fall against the backrest of the lounge and raised a trembling hand up to massage his aching temples.

He really overdid himself this time and only God knows what could have possibly happened as well, maybe he was lucky that he got away so easily. Remaining in his current position, he shut his eyes from the reddish glow of the fire. It was easier to close his eyes so the room would stop spinning, and he could try to at least regain some of his strength, it felt awful being so weak..like he was shattered and being stitched together again... Something touched his thigh, a small paw was pressed against the fabric of his pants and soon three more followed as the cat sat on his lap and, with a low purring, curled up onto his lap and began to clean its fur.

Time to find out who saved him and thank the person that he or she did not call the ambulance instead, he thought as the dizzy feeling slowly began to fade and allowed him to stand up and make a few cautious steps. Apparently, this was a living room, with a fireplace, a desk with a computer and some books and something that made his skin crawl…a long knife lay carelessly dropped on the floor. The blade was black and it showed halfway out from its sheath along with a pair of boots and a dark grey leather coat, like its owner was sort of in a hurry to get into his bed…or bathroom to wash away some blood stains? The cat approached him again, stroking itself against his leg and then disappeared into another room. The door was open, just a look would not hurt anyone, will it?
Curiosity did not just kill cats, Jack…the little voice in his head warned him, but he ignored it as he silently stood at the doorframe to feel his breath catch in his throat.

"Vamp…" There was something unreal about this picture, it was not the well decorated room and the huge bed, or the blood red satin sheets the sleeping form was resting on, it even was not the white cat laying casually next to…that monster. He was asleep, his hair tangled in his face and raven black strands spilling over the sheets he was laying in, a thin blanket covered the lower half of his naked body and his soft breathing was even. The golden light of the morning sun piercing through the dark curtains, enlightening the bedroom with a warm shine, the whole scenery was so unreal and…somehow peaceful, like some fancy painting in one of the picture galleries in the museums, he can already imagine a good title for that piece of art: The sleeping monster. Jack laughed to himself as he approached the man, careful and with a wary look at his face, it was not his intention to wake him. Vamp began to snarl in his sleep, his fingers flinched and his eyelids fluttered as if he was facing some kind of invisible enemy. It must be some nightmare, Jack thought to himself as he stood next to his bed and just watched him. He whispered something in Romanian in his dream, then turned away, showing Jack his bare back, it was then when he noticed the scar.
His parents died in a church bombing when he was a kid, the cross impaled him and kept him caught under the rubble for four long days; that was what the files said. However, he never saw the scar…until now. It was just a small mark, in comparison to the other scars Jack was responsible to, too, just above his left shoulder blade, the cross must have pierced through his body and came out on the other side just somewhere below his collarbone. Painful and almost impossible to survive, most people died from the blood loss…but he survived, by feeding off the blood of his parents. There was a soft moan, his sleep was not a pleasing one, something haunted him in his dreams, memories from his past?
Maybe he should wake him, Vamp turned again to lay on his back, panting and showing his sharp canines, like a sleeping beast, a painful look on his pale features. Don´t touch him…the inner voice warned as he reached out his hand, but it was already too late. Vamps skin was cool, covered with a slight film of sweat, but it felt natural, not like he´d imagined it. Bluish veins ran under a layer of pale, milky skin, he flinched slightly at the contact making Jack jump back a little, but it did not wake him. He could kill him in his sleep so easily, Vamp would not even feel a thing… or he could have been killed as well, but he was still alive, so why? The Romanian was a weird one indeed, but somehow fascinating to find out that even the great Vamp needed sleep…and was resistant to sun light, Jack thought as he gently sat down at the bedside. A mirror was at the other side of the room, he sighed and lifted his head to take a look at himself. He was still the same, looked the same and probably would always be like this…just like Vamp, he had not changed much, maybe his eyes looked a little older by now, after the incident with the Patriot System and the Big Shell and everything. His reflection stared back at him with an almost sad look…strange and somehow weary, he still looked pale and his body felt weak…
A soft harrumph made him jump, and he shot a glance to his side and widened his eyes as two aquamarine orbs stared back at him, unmoving and intense, without moving just one muscle…like a corpse, but his eyes held an amusing look in them as the awakening monster smiled at him…