Legend has it that you speak an ancient tongue

But no one's spoke to you and lived to tell the tale

Some say that you have killed a hundred men

Others say that you have died and live again-"Nomad" by Iron Maiden

Beep, Beep, Beep, repeatedly and loudly came from the digital clock on the night stand right side of a bed with a big lump under the comforter. A hand shot from under the comforter. It had to feel around for the clock knocking over empty bottles of various liquor products like Southern Comfort, Jim Bean, Jack Daniels in different favors, and Hot Damn. Finally grabbing the source of that irritating beeping, the hand threw it. It would've hit the wall instead it hit the blue carpet because of the cord was plugged into a wall outlet behind the nightstand and was still going Beep, Beep, Beep.

A groan came from under the comforter. The lump started moving towards the edge of the bed. Two hands slid from under the comforter and touched the floor then the rest of the body dropped onto the floor. Laying on her back with her legs propped against the bed was a red head with a batch of white hair over her left eye and one massive hangover wearing boxer shorts and a white tank top. She was reaching that point in her life where drinking was becoming a pain instead of being fun expect she wasn't ready to stop just yet. Right now she wanted that beeping to stop. Again her right hand searched for the annoying clock. Finding it, her thumb clicked it off. Now she could lay there until the hammering stopped inside her head.

Then a knock came from her closed bedroom door. Before she could tell the knocker to go away, it opened and a teenage girl with green hair popped her head through the crack between the door and doorway.

"Jess, time to get up," greeted the teenager.

"Shove it, Suzie," groaned Jess.

"Can't, promised Rath that you would be up and ready before he got back."

"That bastard," Jess mumbled sliding onto her right side.

Since she was on the wrong side of the bed, it was going to require effect for her to crawl around and over the bed to get to the bathroom. Her big ass along with her big chest prevented her crawling under the bed.

Closing the door behind her, Suzie walked towards Jess. Lifting Jess up wasn't easy for the young woman, but she was able to get Jess onto the bed. Rolling her towards the bathroom, Suzie entered the bathroom. Sounds of water from the shower filtered into Jess's ears, but the pounding blocked it out. Returning, Suzie rotated Jess until her feet faced the bathroom. Grabbing her hands, Suzie tried pulling Jess onto her feet, but kept sliding under the bed. Getting onto the bed, Suzie sat Jess up. Wrapping her arms around Jess, she pulled up. Jess barely went up. Trying again, Suzie propped her knees under Jess's butt. Placing her hands on Jess's butt, Suzie pushed sending Jess towards the opened bathroom door. Jess's hands landed against the sides of the door way preventing her from hitting the bathroom floor face first.

"Suzie, I can take it from here," she said shifting her feet into the bathroom.

After the bathroom door closed, Suzie went towards Jess's black dresser. The top draw had Jess's tank tops and boxer shorts that she wore around the apartment. The second draw had her sexy underwear that made men drool and the women to hate her which Jess never had time for. The last draw was the one Suzie opened. It had Jess's exercise underwear and normal working shirts. Suzie pulled out an exercise bra, panties, and a black shirt and placed them on the bed.

Opening the closet door, she stared at the black duster coats, pants, and fedoras. Getting one of each plus a pair of combat boots placed them on the bed. She didn't get socks since them were already in the boots. Seeing that everything was ready, she left to make breakfast.

Leaning her head against the mirror, Jess kept her eyes closed and listened to the water flowing from behind the shower curtain. How she hated that bastard? Not for letting Suzie be a wet nurse towards her which she been doing since that business in New York, but for letting Suzie see her hung over. Opening her right eye, a bloodshot brown eyeball stared back at her. Pulling her head back, she stared at her disheveled reflection. She wanted to ram her head through the mirror, but didn't want to scare Suzie.

Removing her tank top and boxer shorts, she stepped behind the shower curtain. The cold water hit her bare skin. Lathering herself up with soap, the fog cleaned up inside her head allowing her to have her first clean thought which was "How did she ended up in her bed wearing only her tank top and boxer shorts?"

When the coffee pot got full, Suzie turned it off. Pouring the coffee into a fifty two ounce mug, she added sugar and milk.

The two slices of toast popped up black. Removing them from the toaster, she placed them on a plate. Spreading ranch dressing on both slices, she placed Swiss cheese onto the dressing. Cracking three eggs into the cast iron pan, she fried them. Placing it onto a bread slice, she put the other slice onto the fried egg finishing Jess's fried egg sandwich.

Placing the mug and plate onto the counter, Suzie sipped her orange juice and nibbled on her pop tart.

Watching Jess walked out of her bedroom still drying her hair minus her coat and hat., "Would you like me to get your hat and coat?" asked Suzie.

"What?" removing the towel from her hair.

"Would you like me to get your hat and coat?"

"I don't need a mother, you know."

"Only when you're on one of your benders."

"You know about those?"

"You try to hide it, but yes, I know."

"Oh well," sipping her coffee," you need to get a life of your own and stop chasing Rath."

"He might give up and let me catch him."

"Not likely," nibbling on her sandwich, "Did you feed that stupid bird?"

"Yes, Stengo's been feed."

"Like to know where he got that bird from?"

"I believe it's a cockatoo."

"It's a stupid bird to me," chewing on a piece of her sandwich, "You still need to get a life of your own."

"That's way I moved out."

"And working as an observer."

"Right."

"There's better jobs."

"But I won't see you guys that much."

"That's the point of having a life of your own besides this place got a lot of room."

"I don't know where the doors go."

"True," pouring more coffee down her throat, "Wished Victoria let you be with me."

"That was the plan."

"On your first assignment, Rath, and I get that pervert, Turner."

Finishing off her coffee, Jess went to retrieve her coat and hat wondering how she ended up in her tank top and boxer shorts.

Around noon, Jake was riding his bike for pretty much no reason then to relax. Heading towards a small bar in a bad part of town called Scraps, one of his favorite places, it had a mean reputation and the people in it were often worse. The people who worked there knew him and didn't give a rat's ass about the warrants. As far as they were concerned, he was always a guest since he saved the owner's daughter was taken by a group of low life scum to have they're way with. He talked to them with the best language he could with his fist. He helped bounce the bar allowing him free drinks.

Walking in, the bartender nodded at him while pulling out a glass and bottle which he grabbed. Passing by, the bartender didn't say anything, which was fine. Walking over to his normal table against the back wall, facing the door. Since coming to Jump City, he came here to think, the fairly good music, and once in awhile a good brawl.

Twenty minutes passed when someone caught his eyes. Little over six foot and had black hair. He wore black pants, shirt, and trench coat. Must be early twenties easy.

His instinct to kill this guy got overruled by caution so he placed one of his guns on his lap. Looking around, the stranger rested his eyes on Jake with grin that sent a huge chill down Jake spine. Jake never felt anyone this powerful since he took on a level seven maybe eight demon.

No one paid attention, not even the bartender, they acted as if they didn't see him as he walked towards Jake. Cocking his gun, Jake watched him sit down with the table between them.

Another evil grin, "You have no need for that here. I want to fight you in the open."

Giving this stranger a look the should have made lesser men cringe, "And I thought things like that didn't matter to people like you."

The stranger's grin widen.

"Oh, yes, I agree, but I enjoy playing with my toys before killing them."

"And why shouldn't I take you out now, since you just admitted to what you like do."

A full-blown smile on.

"Because, you have several witnesses here, who, should I die, well tell the police that you disemboweled me with a pair of chop sticks made of bones," leaning a little closer only for Jake to hear, "and don't say that the security cameras will say different, my powers can affect those who watch it as well."

"Fine then," said Jake adding venom to his voice, "what do you want?"

Bolting back with shocked looked on his face, "What, you're not even going to offer me a drink to your trusted friend."

Laughing as Jake stared at him he stopped and stared at Jake.

"You want to know," leaning forward, "then this is all I have to say," adding venom to his voice as his eyes shifted from a white to red color, "You are to stay away from Trigon's daughter, Raven. Failure to heed my warning will mean a slow painful death for you, and even Raven, once Trigon is done with her," laughing like an evil genius.

His laughing stopped when the barrel of Jake's gun got shoved into his mouth.

"And if you don't heed this warning, hell will seen like heaven after what I put you through. Got IT."

Backing away, he stood up as Jake lowered his gun keeping a civil smile wasn't easy.

"Then, I guess we will have quite a fight the next time we meet."

"Yes, we will," Jake agreed.

Walking a couple steps away, he stopped and turned.

"And by the way, the name Marcus."

Raising his eyebrows, "What the hell couldn't find any good names?"

Giving a slight laugh, "No, fancy titles are nice, but I prefer the look of fear when people see me, even in this form."

Heading towards the exit with no one stopping him, he disappeared through the bar door. Standing up, Jake left a couple dollars tip and exited the bar. It was going to be one hell of a fight. He needed to prep as best as he could.

At a booth in Mel's Pizzeria, a red head wearing a black duster and black fedora stared at the brown metal plate covering the back of a right hand which propped the owner's head who was wearing the same black duster and fedora. Connected to the metal plate was a leather strap which runs between the second and third fingers.

Pulling a picture from her duster coat pocket, "This is the guy," placing the picture on the counter, "Roger Berger, a serial killer, killed at least fifteen only four are know by the police. Problem is the cops don't know about his safari. They got him for a hit and run. He's in cell 4B," sipping her ginger ale float, "How you kill him is your business? Any questions, Rath?"

Staring at the picture through the crack between his index and middle finger, "One question, how are the Cubs doing, Alice?"