Another Life
Chapter 2
By: Michelle Ulmer
The morning sun had just come through the curtained windows of Spike Spiegel's recovery room. Instantly, the reddish light fell upon Spike's eyelids, causing him to squint, yet he never opened the mismatched orbs. It was too early for him; any time of daylight was too early for him. Always sleeping in as late as he could and sleeping through the day as much as he could till night came and he could go to a bar if The Bebop was not drifting somewhere in space.
Grasping the sheets that covered his body like a small child would, he pulled them along with himself as he turned to the side so the light would no longer shine into his eyes. That technique worked, for a short amount of time till the sun was just high enough to allow the whole room to be filled with its eerie glow that came through the shades.
Opening his eyes slowly, he was greeted by the wall. For a few short moments he stared at it, letting a few thoughts go into his mind, about where he was and how he got here. Then something came to pass, how did he Get Here?!
Leaning forward slowly, a few names came into his cranium. Jet? Could he have possibly been there as he said that one word, the one word he thought would be his last? Or perhaps Faye Valentine. Then again, though Faye seemed to be tough and only caring for herself, somehow she managed to show compassion for Spike in family sense. Either or, it had to be one of them.
Lifting his palm to his forehead and soon letting his curled fingers slide to his eyes. He began to rub them slowly, yawning in the process. Letting his arms now drift onto his side and as well on the sheet, he glanced to the window. It was already eleven O'clock in the morning, while would the sun release that eerie red glow?
Giving a curious blink the man lifted his body off the bed he first stretched. Allowing his arms to go limp as he let his upper body fall forward, touching his toes. Then lifting his body up again, he put his arms over his head and stretched his shoulder and back muscles. Each of these common stretches felt good to him, too good, as if he had never done such a thing before in his life.
Now letting his arms fall to the side, he made his way over to the shades. Grasping them loosely in his hand he pulled them back.
In only a second, his eyes opened wide in shock then narrowed. His eyebrows coming together into a harsh look at the window. A complete look of disgust and hatred.
The windows where a bloody red, the red substance causing this oozing down the side of the building slowly. Glancing form below he put his gaze back forward. There where words, carefully made with a fingertip. They read easily, "You shall shed tears of Scarlet."
"Who." Spike's expression went to questioning glance, and then back to the same stern face, "Vicious." he said slowly.
Taking a deep breath he once again peered below, indeed he was on the first floor, possibly the only reason why his nemeses could pull off such a stunt. And with a fashion Vicious seemed to hold, there was a pail lifeless body of a person below. With there eyes rolled in the back of there head, and a nice clean slash in there throat.
Spike heard the door open behind him, but he never took his eyes off those words. Yet form the voice, and humming that he heard, he knew it was the same woman that took away is precious cigarettes and lighter.
Giving a curious glance, the pudgy woman came over slowly, "Spike." The green haired man heard her gasp. Soon running out of the room, to get who ever, possibly the police.
Spike recalled the so thought finale battle against Vicious. Remembering how he shot him at a point where the blood would drain swiftly. So how? So how did that man with the coldest serpent like orbs survive such a blow? How?
Those questions plagued Spike for the rest of the day. When he got he got out of the hospital garb and into his favorite suit. When he ate Lunch and when he finally checked out.
Taking a deep breath of the outside air, a smile did creep up Spike's lips. It was good to be free again. It really was. Now though, where would he go?
This morning he had just got a thousand woolongs form Jet put on his cash card. Spike could only suppose that Jet was feeling nice enough to at least get him off to a good start.
Grasping a piece of notebook paper that came along with his second gift from the now fifty or so year old Jet. He peered at the address upon it.
His eyes shifting from side to side, he peered at the jumble of letters and numbers which one would be called an address. He sighed lightly, thinking he had gotten it memorized by now. Placing back into his pocket and which was soon followed by his hands. Still, those thoughts of his enemy, Vicious plagued him, yet at the moment, he placed them to the side in the catacombs of his mind.
"Damn Jet, you are acting like some fucking mystery man and its really pissing me off." Spike growled as he waited at a street corner. This whole day, he had been wandering about Crater City Mars. In hopes he would find Walnut Lane. Walnut Lane, it is such an easy name and everyone he asked about it pointed him in a completely different direction. At last he halted his search for an hour or so to take a break and eat a hotdog that he had gotten from a small corner stand.
In front of everyone in the small line, a grin curved his lips, "Real food!"
Just for a hot dog he seemed overjoyed. A greasy stand hotdog was far better then the over processed hospital food any day, at least that's what Spike thought.
After scarring everyone in the line and making his way to a bench to eat. He saw it, that one sign that could possibly brighten his day even more then a stand hotdog. A street sign that read, 'Walnut Lane'.
Taking his hotdog, he stuffed it completely in his mouth like had done once before while chasing a bounty years ago. Now standing he ran towards it as fast as his long legs could carry.
Before him now was a fairly large park, that was almost completely out of view from trees that blocked the sign form his view awhile back.. And in this park, or so it seemed where many large houses. Mansions, and over sized houses that would cost a plethora of woolongs.
Scrounging through his one pocket, he took out the note again and began to read it carefully. 39023 Walnut Lane, Crater City Mars.
Spike could only gawk now. Jet, his comrade that was once in the brink of bankruptcy was now living in one of these huge ithings/i.
"..." that's all that Spike could do for the past few moments, was gawk. Each house was very unique but never the less beautiful on the outside.
Finally going out of the trance that kept him standing on there sidewalk like road block, he began to walk forwards though the maze of roads. The day was getting hotter, and the black top did not make it any better for such a long trek.
And at last he reached a mail box, which on its side simply had 39023. Indeed this was the place. Lifting his gaze from the slightly shorter mail box, he peered at Jets home.
It was large, very large. Not as large as some of the others that where laid her but still big enough to hold at least ten bedrooms and then some.
Walking up the long drive way then down the pathway that led to the massive cherry wood front door, he returned the slip of paper back to his pocket and looked for a doorbell or something to tell of his arrival.
Glancing over to the side of the door with his mismatched orbs he found a small box with a button, more then likely the door bell.
Walking over slowly, he raised his hands and pressed his index finger against the plastic surface. Soon releasing it after he heard the chime of a familiar tune or simple the bell.
Then he waited for about five minuets before pressing it once again, then that just ended up in waiting some more.
Pushing his fingers through his bushy green hair he sighed and sat on the porch. Perhaps the old guy is not home, he thought as he grasped a cigarette and lighter.
During his stay at the hospital, Spike had pick pocketed his prized possessions from the nurse who just the other day had swiped him from his hands in one swift swoop.
Lighting the stick of nicotine up, he placed in his mouth and inhaled the smoke. Letting it fill his lungs until he released it with a sigh.
It was about an hour that he waited there, and it was then that he heard the door open.
"Mr. Spiegel? I presume, terribly sorry for you waiting there but Master Jet was completely engrossed with his work, and I was there assisting him. It was then that I noticed you waiting out here. Oh and I ask you, before you enter please put your cigarette out." The voice was that of classy butler. With silver hair that was pulled back, and held a long aristocratic, slightly upward turned nose which made Spike wonder for only a few moments that if he was the owner of the house and if Jet was the butler. Blinking once, Spike spit the cigarette out into the garden which made the butler give a light glare, or a look of disgust either or, this butler had already went against Jet's judgment in friends. Onward Spike walked into a grand room, with a large, crystal chandelier at its ceiling. Then he turned, to see a pair of large emerald green eyes peering at him from the stairway.
{Oooo I just love cliffhangers ^^; anyways, thanks to all who reviewed! Oh, and I do not own bebop XD. I wish I did. Anyways, I do not know when the next chapter will be up, I was lucky enough this week that we are having so far little homework, but I don't know how that will be in the future so please be patient. And still, please review!! It will really keep me going! }
The morning sun had just come through the curtained windows of Spike Spiegel's recovery room. Instantly, the reddish light fell upon Spike's eyelids, causing him to squint, yet he never opened the mismatched orbs. It was too early for him; any time of daylight was too early for him. Always sleeping in as late as he could and sleeping through the day as much as he could till night came and he could go to a bar if The Bebop was not drifting somewhere in space.
Grasping the sheets that covered his body like a small child would, he pulled them along with himself as he turned to the side so the light would no longer shine into his eyes. That technique worked, for a short amount of time till the sun was just high enough to allow the whole room to be filled with its eerie glow that came through the shades.
Opening his eyes slowly, he was greeted by the wall. For a few short moments he stared at it, letting a few thoughts go into his mind, about where he was and how he got here. Then something came to pass, how did he Get Here?!
Leaning forward slowly, a few names came into his cranium. Jet? Could he have possibly been there as he said that one word, the one word he thought would be his last? Or perhaps Faye Valentine. Then again, though Faye seemed to be tough and only caring for herself, somehow she managed to show compassion for Spike in family sense. Either or, it had to be one of them.
Lifting his palm to his forehead and soon letting his curled fingers slide to his eyes. He began to rub them slowly, yawning in the process. Letting his arms now drift onto his side and as well on the sheet, he glanced to the window. It was already eleven O'clock in the morning, while would the sun release that eerie red glow?
Giving a curious blink the man lifted his body off the bed he first stretched. Allowing his arms to go limp as he let his upper body fall forward, touching his toes. Then lifting his body up again, he put his arms over his head and stretched his shoulder and back muscles. Each of these common stretches felt good to him, too good, as if he had never done such a thing before in his life.
Now letting his arms fall to the side, he made his way over to the shades. Grasping them loosely in his hand he pulled them back.
In only a second, his eyes opened wide in shock then narrowed. His eyebrows coming together into a harsh look at the window. A complete look of disgust and hatred.
The windows where a bloody red, the red substance causing this oozing down the side of the building slowly. Glancing form below he put his gaze back forward. There where words, carefully made with a fingertip. They read easily, "You shall shed tears of Scarlet."
"Who." Spike's expression went to questioning glance, and then back to the same stern face, "Vicious." he said slowly.
Taking a deep breath he once again peered below, indeed he was on the first floor, possibly the only reason why his nemeses could pull off such a stunt. And with a fashion Vicious seemed to hold, there was a pail lifeless body of a person below. With there eyes rolled in the back of there head, and a nice clean slash in there throat.
Spike heard the door open behind him, but he never took his eyes off those words. Yet form the voice, and humming that he heard, he knew it was the same woman that took away is precious cigarettes and lighter.
Giving a curious glance, the pudgy woman came over slowly, "Spike." The green haired man heard her gasp. Soon running out of the room, to get who ever, possibly the police.
Spike recalled the so thought finale battle against Vicious. Remembering how he shot him at a point where the blood would drain swiftly. So how? So how did that man with the coldest serpent like orbs survive such a blow? How?
Those questions plagued Spike for the rest of the day. When he got he got out of the hospital garb and into his favorite suit. When he ate Lunch and when he finally checked out.
Taking a deep breath of the outside air, a smile did creep up Spike's lips. It was good to be free again. It really was. Now though, where would he go?
This morning he had just got a thousand woolongs form Jet put on his cash card. Spike could only suppose that Jet was feeling nice enough to at least get him off to a good start.
Grasping a piece of notebook paper that came along with his second gift from the now fifty or so year old Jet. He peered at the address upon it.
His eyes shifting from side to side, he peered at the jumble of letters and numbers which one would be called an address. He sighed lightly, thinking he had gotten it memorized by now. Placing back into his pocket and which was soon followed by his hands. Still, those thoughts of his enemy, Vicious plagued him, yet at the moment, he placed them to the side in the catacombs of his mind.
"Damn Jet, you are acting like some fucking mystery man and its really pissing me off." Spike growled as he waited at a street corner. This whole day, he had been wandering about Crater City Mars. In hopes he would find Walnut Lane. Walnut Lane, it is such an easy name and everyone he asked about it pointed him in a completely different direction. At last he halted his search for an hour or so to take a break and eat a hotdog that he had gotten from a small corner stand.
In front of everyone in the small line, a grin curved his lips, "Real food!"
Just for a hot dog he seemed overjoyed. A greasy stand hotdog was far better then the over processed hospital food any day, at least that's what Spike thought.
After scarring everyone in the line and making his way to a bench to eat. He saw it, that one sign that could possibly brighten his day even more then a stand hotdog. A street sign that read, 'Walnut Lane'.
Taking his hotdog, he stuffed it completely in his mouth like had done once before while chasing a bounty years ago. Now standing he ran towards it as fast as his long legs could carry.
Before him now was a fairly large park, that was almost completely out of view from trees that blocked the sign form his view awhile back.. And in this park, or so it seemed where many large houses. Mansions, and over sized houses that would cost a plethora of woolongs.
Scrounging through his one pocket, he took out the note again and began to read it carefully. 39023 Walnut Lane, Crater City Mars.
Spike could only gawk now. Jet, his comrade that was once in the brink of bankruptcy was now living in one of these huge ithings/i.
"..." that's all that Spike could do for the past few moments, was gawk. Each house was very unique but never the less beautiful on the outside.
Finally going out of the trance that kept him standing on there sidewalk like road block, he began to walk forwards though the maze of roads. The day was getting hotter, and the black top did not make it any better for such a long trek.
And at last he reached a mail box, which on its side simply had 39023. Indeed this was the place. Lifting his gaze from the slightly shorter mail box, he peered at Jets home.
It was large, very large. Not as large as some of the others that where laid her but still big enough to hold at least ten bedrooms and then some.
Walking up the long drive way then down the pathway that led to the massive cherry wood front door, he returned the slip of paper back to his pocket and looked for a doorbell or something to tell of his arrival.
Glancing over to the side of the door with his mismatched orbs he found a small box with a button, more then likely the door bell.
Walking over slowly, he raised his hands and pressed his index finger against the plastic surface. Soon releasing it after he heard the chime of a familiar tune or simple the bell.
Then he waited for about five minuets before pressing it once again, then that just ended up in waiting some more.
Pushing his fingers through his bushy green hair he sighed and sat on the porch. Perhaps the old guy is not home, he thought as he grasped a cigarette and lighter.
During his stay at the hospital, Spike had pick pocketed his prized possessions from the nurse who just the other day had swiped him from his hands in one swift swoop.
Lighting the stick of nicotine up, he placed in his mouth and inhaled the smoke. Letting it fill his lungs until he released it with a sigh.
It was about an hour that he waited there, and it was then that he heard the door open.
"Mr. Spiegel? I presume, terribly sorry for you waiting there but Master Jet was completely engrossed with his work, and I was there assisting him. It was then that I noticed you waiting out here. Oh and I ask you, before you enter please put your cigarette out." The voice was that of classy butler. With silver hair that was pulled back, and held a long aristocratic, slightly upward turned nose which made Spike wonder for only a few moments that if he was the owner of the house and if Jet was the butler. Blinking once, Spike spit the cigarette out into the garden which made the butler give a light glare, or a look of disgust either or, this butler had already went against Jet's judgment in friends. Onward Spike walked into a grand room, with a large, crystal chandelier at its ceiling. Then he turned, to see a pair of large emerald green eyes peering at him from the stairway.
{Oooo I just love cliffhangers ^^; anyways, thanks to all who reviewed! Oh, and I do not own bebop XD. I wish I did. Anyways, I do not know when the next chapter will be up, I was lucky enough this week that we are having so far little homework, but I don't know how that will be in the future so please be patient. And still, please review!! It will really keep me going! }