Author's Note: I have to thank you all once again for the reviews! I'll tell you a secret, I'm hoping that I can break 200. If I do that, I'll be thrilled beyond everything!
P.S. Here's the next chapter, Screamin-psiren,where's my Cillian? Is he in the mail? I'll pay the shipping and handling!
And, Rashida, I live in Tennessee, I got my DVD copy of On the Edge from I suggest trying there. They usually have everything that I look for.
Chapter Seven: Bloody Hell
Lisa stood there for what seemed like forever, mouth agape, eyes gazing blankly down at the upward moving bubbles in the glass of champagne that she held in her hand. All of the sudden, it was as though something snapped into focus in her mind. She was sick and tired of being the victim. Her narrowed eyes rose up from the bubbling glass and zoomed in on the hobbit-like man who stood in front of her.
"The hell you can't!" Lisa roared angrily. She threw the glass of champagne into the man's face and drove her knee into his soft belly. Then, she bolted for the door, pulling it open only to have it jerk to a sudden stop. Her eyes found the chain lock and with a curse she shut the door and began fumbling with the lock. She hadn't really formulated a plan, but she had refused to let Jackson Rippner turn her into a simpering little damsel in distress, there was no way in hell Vernon Lawsard was going to.
In a blink, Lawsard was at her heels. For a bigger man, he moved rather quickly. He reached the door at about the same time that she had unfastened the chain; Lawsard clumsily wrapped his arms around her waist and slammed into her, crushing her flat against the door with his body. Her head smacked into the solid wooden surface and her body went momentarily limp in his arms. She just couldn't seem to catch a break today. Lawsard cradled her in his arms, lifting her legs from the ground as she tried desperately to regain her equilibrium.
When her vision cleared, Lisa realized that he was carrying her toward the door of the bedroom. In a panic, she threw her elbow back and heard the grotesque crunch as it connected with his nose, breaking it with little effort. Lawsard dropped her and cupped both hands over his bleeding face. She hit the ground with a thud, but considering the preliminary impacts that she had dealt with, this was nothing. She was on her feet in no time and sprinting for the door once again. She swung the previously unlocked door open and hurled herself through it without so much as a moment's worth of hesitation.
As soon as she was out the door, she ran smack into a solid figure and tumbled to the ground with it, her body tangling in with whatever she had hit. It didn't take her long to discover that her limbs were entwined with none other than those of Mellmott, the bastard. The very first thought to go through her mind was that on a day like the one she was having, it was just her luck to run into that asshole. A small burst of noise came from her throat and she immediately kicked him in the face and clambered to her feet. Mellmott groaned and pointed his gun at her head, freezing her in her tracks. She wasn't frozen for very long however because as soon as she was on her feet, an arm came from nowhere, caught her by the elbow and began dragging her down the hall. She felt herself smile briefly as she latched onto Jackson's arm as he guided her down long corridor.
Less than a second later, Lawsard came lurching through the hotel room door, gun in hand, and he tumbled over Mellmott who was still sprawled out in the floor. Lawsard got to his feet and as soon as he spotted Lisa's shrinking form, he took off down the hallway in pursuit of her. Lisa glanced over her shoulder and urged Jackson to go faster after she saw him coming after them. She could practically hear the man's labored breathing in her ear even though he was still a good distance behind the two of them. She could still feel his clammy hands on her legs and the thought made her shudder with disgust. She and Jackson rounded the corner and Lisa went to hit the call button for the elevator.
Jackson didn't even wait for the elevator; he simply jerked Lisa to the left and shoved their way into the stairwell. He released his hold on Lisa's arm, confident that she could keep up with him as he thundered down the stairs. Lisa did not disappoint him, hopping steps and matching him stride for stride. The sound of heavy footsteps coming from behind them drew his attention and he took the chance to glance upward, where he spotted the fat man from the elevator earlier that day, the one with the annoying wife with big hair, was crashing down the steps after them.
"What..." he started.
"Just keep going!" Lisa exclaimed, shoving on his shoulder to keep him moving forward.
They burst from the stairwell onto the next floor that they reached and went for the elevators in the hopes of a quick descent to the lobby. Not five seconds after they were out did Lawsard emerge as well. As lady luck would have it, one of the elevators was just about to close and Jackson and Lisa managed just to slide through the doors.
"That is one spry fat man." Jackson stated once they were tucked safely inside the elevator.
Lisa looked at him as she struggled to catch her breath. He was alive. He was standing there in front of her in all his glory. Without thinking about it, she had thrown her arms around his neck, smiling from ear to ear in relief.
Jackson's entire body tensed at first at this show of affection, but he slowly relaxed and even stroked her hair; though he never did try to hide his confusion. "Okay," he said, "I don't know what this is about...but, why has the big guy joined the fun?"
"He sent the flowers." Lisa said, without letting him go or loosening her grip.
"He's the secret admirer?"
"He's a psycho." Lisa replied.
"I've always thought that was a harsh term."
"His wife is lying in his room, very dead."
"He killed her?"
Lisa nodded into his shoulder.
Jackson recalled the blonde drunkard from ealier, "Don't really blame him there."
Lisa pulled back and gave him a look.
"What?" he asked, "I don't lie."
Lisa almost wanted to laugh at his honesty, which was just so humorous and macabre all at once, but she couldn't find it in her at the moment to laugh. Instead, she rested her head tiredly against his shoulder and watched the numbers change as the elevator climbed floors. They hadn't had a say as to where the elevator went. Lisa's guess was that some little brat had thought that it would be funny to push all of the buttons as they got off. The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a ding to an empty hall.
"Do we get off?" Lisa asked, moving to step out onto the floor.
"No." Jackson said, tugging her back against the far wall, "We'll wait till it's done going up and then we'll go back down to the lobby."
The doors closed and Lisa leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes and letting out another sigh. She was so ready for the night to just be over, but then she caught herself wondering what would happen when it was over. Would Jackson stick around? Would he stay with her? Or would he leave again? Probably leave. He wouldn't want to stick around here, it wasn't who he was. He was an assassin for crying out loud! And there were people trying to kill him. His first instinct would be self preservation. He would want to get out of town and keep moving and to hell with everything and everyone else. After all, a moving target is harder to hit. But the thing was, Lisa didn't want him to leave and she thought that she was going crazy for wanting him to stay so that she could be with him. She wondered how long it would take for her to come to terms with the fact that she had feelings for the man who had tried to kill her and her father.
"How is it that Mellmott seems to show up at the most inconvenient times?" She said, reaching up the rub at her temples.
"I don't know," Jackson said, shaking his head, "The son of a bitch chased me down a flight of stairs and then all this way until you so kindly knocked him on his ass. I just need to get him in a corner without that damn gun."
She looked over at him to find that he was staring back at her. He smiled and not his usual smirk, but a tender smile. Then, he reached out to touch her face. He brushed his thumb over her bruised cheekbone, causing her to wince slightly from the pressure. The way he was looking at her at that moment was so out of character for him that it made her shiver inside, but in a good way. Maybe he would stay with her after all. The elevator dinged again and the doors slid open just as a gentle thwep sounded through the air and Jackson slammed into the back elevator wall, a stream of blood spouting from his shoulder and all over Lisa. She screamed and leaned forward to help him, but a hand suddenly tangled into the back of her hair and jerked her off of her feet. She was being dragged out of the elevator and away from where Jackson was lying on the floor, bleeding. Every time she managed to get a foothold, her captor would tug her off her balance again. Jackson moved to come after her, bloody shoulder and all, but the elevator doors shut once again and he was gone.
Lisa used all of the strength in her neck to crane it in an attempt to see who it was that had grabbed her, finding it to be Lawsard who was using a tremendous effort to drag her down the hall. She didn't know how he had gotten there so quickly and quite frankly, she didn't care. She just knew that she had to get away from him or things were most definitely gonna end badly for her. She took a second to evaluate the situation and clear her head. She was currently barefoot, covered in blood, other people's as well as her own, and being dragged by the hair down one of the long hallways of her own damned hotel. The conclusion that she came to after considering all of these facts was that she so should not have gotten out of bed this morning.
Screaming through clenched teeth, she started clawing at the hand that held her by the hair and squirming her body and kicking her legs, anything she could think of that might cause him to lose his grip and let her slip away. Lawsard just cursed her and kept right on walking. His nose was still bleeding and it seemed that he had given up all pretenses of being polite. She must have really pissed him off when she had elbowed him. She knew that things had just taken a sharp turn from bad to much, much worse. Lisa screamed at the top of her lungs and succeeded in drawing the attention of a guest. She felt so relieved when she saw one of the hotel room doors open and a man in his early forties emerged, wearing boxers and a white tee shirt, his eyes still half shut from sleep.
"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, charging towards them.
Lawsard paused and spun around on his heel and then without even a second of hesitation, swung his gun arm around and shot the man point blank in the chest. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as his blood splattered across her face; she couldn't believe what had just happened right in front of her eyes. The man's body went limp and collapsed on her feet. Lisa frightfully pulled her legs away from the body and closed her eyes, trying desperately to erase the image of his face as he had been shot. Lawsard knelt down beside her so that he was talking directly into her ear.
"If you want that to happen twice, scream again." He said.
Her chin quivered as she looked at the lifeless body of the man who had just tried to help her. He had simply been being a descent human being and he had died...for her. Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks, but aside from a few sniffles, she forced herself to remain silent. It wasn't her goal to get innocent people killed. Lawsard hoisted her into the elevators at the other side of the floor and pressed the gun into her temple as soon as the doors closed and they were on their way back down to his own floor.
Meanwhile...
The elevator doors dinged open and Jackson raced out, ignoring the pain and stiffness that was quickly building in his shoulder. It took his less than five seconds to reach the stairwell. As he hit the stairs, he heard a loud thundering of footsteps coming from below him and paused, peering over the railing. The footfalls ceased immediately. Jackson waited there only long enough to draw his knife from beneath his pant leg and he was off again. He didn't really have the time to worry about whether or not he would run into Mellmott along the way, he needed to get to Lisa and he needed to get to her fast.
Back at Lawsard's...
Lawsard kicked open his hotel room door and actually had the nerve to call out, "Margie, we have company!"
"No!" Lisa cried and tried to tug herself out of his grasp.
Lawsard hauled her into the room, pulling her so that she had a full view of the dead Mrs. Lawsard's body which continued to gaze sightlessly up at the ceiling. The vision was just too sad to bear. Lisa could feel her throat tightening up as a fresh batch of tears welled up in her eyes. She just couldn't seem to find a way out of this and she didn't know if she had the energy for another miraculous escape. But there was still that little voice in her head. That little voice that kept telling her that she was stronger than this; that she would not allow herself to be subjected to that humiliation again. It was still there and getting louder with every passing second. Lawsard dragged her past his late wife and into the suite's elaborately large bedroom.
"Get on the bed." he commanded, releasing his hold on her hair.
Lisa raised up to her knees and took a look at herself. She was out of breath, she was sweating profusely, and she was caked with blood from head to toe, even her fingernails had blood and bits of skin underneath them from where she had dug into Lawsard's fatty hands. There was only one thing that had yet to happen to her today, and she would be damned before she would ever let that happen to her again. She looked at him, her resiliance blazing in her eyes.
"No." she said.
"Get on the bed." Lawsard repeated firmly.
"You'll have to kill me first." Lisa spat as she managed to climb to her feet, albeit unsteadily.
Lawsard's pug eyes narrowed at her as he approached and held the gun in front of her nose. "Get on the bed."
Lisa ignored the dangerous piece of metal that was pressed to the tip of her nose and kept her eyes locked firmly on the squat little man who held it. "No."
He lowered the gun and turned his back on her. Lisa let out a breath that she hadn't realized she's been holding. Then, Lawsard spun back around and more or less pistol whipped her in the face. The sudden impact made her eye feel as though it were about to explode and she feel back onto the bed with a bounce. Lawsard then jumped on top of her like an over anxious dog. Lisa was getting a little tired of all the wrong men climbing on top of her. First Mellmott, then Lawsard. It was not pleasant! Lawsard hovered over her, sweat dripping from his dark curly hair and onto her face. His pointy little lizard tongue darted between his lips to wet them as he began to lean down, no doubt to kiss her, but Lisa wasn't going to give him that chance. She brought her knee up hard into his groin. Lawsard grunted, his face twisting into a repulsive grimace and he clasped his hand around her throat. Lisa fought the urge to roll her eyes. The old strangulation bit...why was it that men's idea of violence against women was so damned repetitive?
Lawsard tucked his gun into the back of his waistband and started groping at the damp material of Lisa's blood stained camisole. His blunt fingers were thick and round like little sausages, the fleshy meaty part of his hands were scratched all to hell thanks to Lisa and he was perspiring so heavily that sweat kept rolling off of his forehead and dripping down onto Lisa. As soon as that gun was out of her sight, Lisa's fear of him was cut down by half. Just as he ripped her cami open she thrust her hand up, her palm connecticting solidly with his already injured nose. She couldn't get out from underneath him because of his weight, but she wasn't going to be compliant either. He cursed at her, squeezing one hand tight around her neck and cradling his nose between two fingers of his other hand. Then he looked back down at her as though she were the thing he hated most on the face of the planet and slapped her with his open palm.
"Now, Lisa, play nice." He hissed, his sausage-like fingers wringing at her breasts. He leaned down to her and shoved his tongue down her throat which Lisa immediately proceeded to bite. Lawsard pulled away with a bark, reared back, and slapped her again, so Lisa punched him in the jaw. He groaned, "I don't want to tie you down, Lisa."
"Sorry if I'm inconveniencing you, Mr. Lawsard!" Lisa snapped.
Lawsard narrowed his eyes and hit her again, so Lisa hit him back...again. One thing that she had learned from her time with Jackson was how to take a hit, by God. He grabbed her by the throat, yet again, with both hands and started squeezing. Lisa tried to push him away but he was way too heavy, so she resorted to pounding on his arms and shoulders with both fist as she gasped desperately for breath and tried in vain to twist herself out of his vice-like grip.
"Excuse me. I believe that's mine."
Lawsard sprang from the bed and turned to face the bedroom door. Lisa quickly shuffled herself into a sitting position on the bed, the remnants of her shirt slipping from her shoulders, and she saw Jackson leaning against the door jam as though he had been there all along. Lawsard pulled his gun from his waistband and aimed it at Jackson. Lisa turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut and flinching at the sound of the gunshot. The silence after the gunshot was disturbed by a sickening gurgling sound which motivated Lisa to reopen her eyes. There was a bullet hole in the far wall, and not five feet from that very same wall lay the gun, still smoking. She looked back at Lawsard just in time to see Jackson shove his knee into the fat man's chest and ride him down onto the bed. She managed to roll out of the way in the nick of time. There was a deep gash in Lawsard's arm that was steadily pulsing blood and Jackson was clutching his knife in his right hand, Lisa assumed that Jackson had cut him as soon as he had pointed the gun at him. Judging from the bleeding, it appeared that he had hit an artery. She looked down to see that her chest and stomach were now splattered with fresh blood as well. There wasn't a shower strong enough to wash this day and all of its mess off of her. She looked up just in time to watch Jackson drive the tip of his knife down into Lawsard's gut. It made an appalling slurping sound as it entered, which alarmed Lisa to the point that she fell off the bed. The instant she hit the floor she was on her feet and scrambling back away from the bed until her back was pressed firmly against the wall.
From there, she watched Jackson really go to work. She had never seen anything quite as disturbing as what she saw Jackson do to Mr. Lawsard that night. First, he slit Lawsard from his navel to his throat, then he really got reved up, pulling and yanking apart layers of flesh and fat and muscle. Lisa slid down the wall to her knees, her hands over her mouth, unable to tear her eyes away from the heinous sight. Her mind had drowned out the horrid screams that Lawsard was making as Jackson did his work. The same Jackson that had chased her ruthlessly through her house had returned. He was standing right there in front of her, mutilating someone. Granted, that someone had attacked her, dragged her down a hall by her hair and tried to rape her...but what Jackson was doing to him was...unnatural...almost bestial. Her entire body was shaking as she gaped at the man who she so recently had thought of as her protector. How could she have been so foolish? His movements were swift and silent and deliberate. His once white shirt was now soaked nearly through with shiny crimson liquid.
Jackson finished his masterpiece and straightened. Lawsard's carcass was sprawled across the bed, wide open, his internal organs lying askew and in abnormal places around him. It was better than what the pig deserved for even thinking that he was good enough to put his filthy hands on Lisa. Jackson looked over to where Lisa was sitting against the wall, her body trembled and her pretty green eyes were wide with fear. Concern flooded through him. What had the bastard done to her before he had gotten there?
Jackson stared at her and Lisa took a moment to assess his appearance. His shirt clung to his lean body and his hair was caked to his forehead with blood. His right hand still held the blood-spattered knife. He started to move toward her and she found herself instinctively groping around the floor for something, anything with which she could defend herself. Her fingers closed around Lawsard's gun and she pointed it at him.
"Don't!" she exclaimed.
Jackson froze. He raised both of his hands chest level to show that he did not intend to hurt her. "Leese...it's me." he said.
Lisa couldn't stop her hands from shuddering as she held the gun on him and she had started to cry again. She was so sick of crying! She didn't want to be afraid of him anymore. She liked the thought of having him around but...what he had just done...
She didn't have time to dwell on the thoughts though, because with cat-like reflexes, Jackson stripped her of the gun which he then threw across the room, his eyes bearing down on Lisa in a merciless glare. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.
Shivering and still kneeling on the ground, Lisa had to avert her eyes from Jackson's heated gaze. She hugged her knees tighter to her chest and released a shaky breath, her mind trying to formulate an answer that might seem logical even if only in her own mind.
Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He understood that she had been through a hell of al lot, but she had just pulled a freaking gun on him. That was completely unacceptable! But as he looked at her sitting there, all trembling and small looking, he was overwhelmed with the need to protect and comfort her. He would have to make a mental note to be more sensitive to her emotions in the future, but for now they really didn't have time for all of this. They needed to keep moving. He needed to get her down to the lobby and he wasn't going to do that by letting her sit there and sulk.
As Lisa raised her eyes once again to meet his, Jackson leaned down and, taking her by the upper arms, he pulled her up into a standing position. He noticed her appearance for the first time at that point and felt a fresh surge of hate for the dead man behind him wash through him. She was battered and bruised, half of which was probably his own doing; she was splattered with blood and in a state of partial undress. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right, but it just wasn't in his nature to do so.
"Lisa, you gotta pull it together." He said, "Suck it up."
The comment earned him a narrow eyed glare from Lisa, but he watched as her eyes quickly widened to an unnatural size. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Mellmott come barreling into the room.
Author's Note: Well? Questions? Comments? Complaints? I'll take 'em all.