Summary:Just another night in NYC, where an Abuser gets their comeuppance. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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It had been in the news recently- a tragic story of a ten year old boy dying suddenly and unexpectedly. There had been talk of foul play- of someone hurting him- but there weren't any solid leads as far as the police could follow. About this time last year another child had died- around the same age, a girl. Just another lost life in New York City- a tragic loss that seemed to follow no pattern.
Except if one looked deep enough they'd see both children had both come from families that were athletically minded. Different teams, different sports- but the same nurse who worked at the community center. A woman by the name of Delores Kincaid.
A woman who'd caused harm to many. Who'd hurt children… and who'd let life slip from this mortal coil.
This evening, however, Delores was walking through the street. A gun is hidden under a heavy coat- she's looking over her shoulder. She's afraid of something or someone as she hurries through the streets. Her face is dark. Circles and bags under her eyes- as if she hasn't been sleeping. She's out in the open now- in the bad part of town where no one asks questions. Word in the underground is that she's looking to hire someone to take care of a problem for her.
To those 'in the know', Ravager's costume was not simply designed in facsimile of Deathstroke the Terminator simply because she was a fan. The young platinum blonde is dressed to the hilt, weaponized for danger and destruction. Presently, she is leaning against the side of the alley, the back of her foot propped against it as she seems to be counting a rather thick set of bills. A few thousand dollars, at the very least.
She almost seems oblivious to Delores, as the woman approaches, indifferent, her monocular vision focused (or so it would seem) on counting those lovely greenbacks.
Hellboy isn't really for hire. He has a steady job, benefits, a cavernous room with a wide assortment of cheeses in the fridge. It's the good life, as long as he goes out and shoots the occasional monster through its mis-shapen head. Not that he can criticize other people's aesthetics.
He does, however, enjoy the occasional bit of unseemly company, which is how he happens to be coming out of a backroom poker game at the moment Delores seems to be looking around, "You don't seem like you belong around here, little mama. Bad mojo around here from the gutter to the roof. You needin' some help?"
Delores looks between Ravager and Hellboy, "Yeah. I've got to hire someone. To.. do something. Violent. There's someone following me." she whispers, "Won't let me sleep. Keeps breaking into my house. I don't know who she is or what she is- she's after me, though. I have money. I'll pay for someone to take care of her. To get rid of her." she says, her voice quivering with fear. "I'm just a nurse. I don't know why she's after me."
Delores keeps looking over her shoulder- watching all around. She's got paranoia, that's for sure- and her fear is very much real. "I can pay. I have money." she says, looking between Hellboy and Ravager. "I think she's going to kill me if I don't do something."
Ravager's singular eye - at least, so it appears from the hood on her costume with one open white eyeframe, the other completely dark and blank, looks to Hellboy. She curves a smile, "Well, aren't you big and red," she says in what might be something leaning towards a delighted tone. No being scared, or intimiated here.
As Delores speaks, she notes, "You must've done something to piss her off. How much you got on you?"
Hellboy raises an eyebrow at Ravager, "You don't know the half of it, sister," he says, drawing a cigar from the pocket of his coat and lighting it with a match.
"Little Miss Murder Hood is right. You gotta have some idea why this person wants ya dead. As you can imagine, people around here ain't necessarily against death, long as it's deserved or, at least, paid for. I'm a little more ethical than most, but you can prob'ly guess I ain't no angel," he says. "So, if you want yer guts protected, you better spill 'em."
"Five Kay." Delores states, "With more to follow if the job is done." she says in a now hushed voice as she pulls her jacket up a bit. "Look, I don't deserve this. I haven't done anything wrong." she hisses, "But the police won't do anything. They say there wasn't any sign of break-in. That I must be imagining it."
"Funny." Comes a voice from further in the same alley that Rose has been perched in. An angry voice. A woman's voice- but it has a certain otherworldly quality to it- as if it were being shouted across the voice. "They didn't do anything wrong. They didn't deserve it, either, did they, Nurse Kincaid?"r
Dead Girl raises from the pavement. The world around her is cold. Almost deathly cold- the living's breath like clouds as the moisture turns to vapor. The world seems washed out. The barrier between the living and the dead thinning- and those red eyes. Those glowing, angry red eyes.
"It's her! Kill her, please!" Delores shrieks, as she pulls her gun from inside her jacket and empties seventeen 9mm rounds into Dead Girl's body- the bullets spattering gore behind them. Hollow points, clearly.
Part of Dead Girl's face has been removed- a gaping hole where her left eye used to be. She, however, stands still- staring angrily at Delores… and almost immediately the meat and guts start to regenerate. One can see as bone and tendon and muscle reach out and grow back to their previous state.
"They were children." Dead Girl says as she begins to approach- Delores still pulling the trigger with abject terror as she stumbles back into the street as Dead Girl approaches. "They were innocent. They trusted you." she growls. "And you…" The woman snarls as she reaches Delores and grabs her- throwing her back towards the alley out of the street. It's a hefty throw- the woman flies and lands on the ground in the dark of the alley.
Dead Girl turns, looking towards Hellboy. "Heya, HB." she offers, "Just business. You know how I roll." she offers to the Big Red Demon-Guy. She spares a look for Rose. "I wouldn't take that money. Tainted. The bitch abuses kids… and killed two of them doing it."
Ravager watches all of this. She's seen some crazy shit. She's seen Deadpool's brains splattered over the wall and him return. She's watched her father fight back and kill a man with a sword through his chest that should've killed him. She's seem some crazy, crazy shit. But that doesn't mean she's seen people rise from pavement. Or, Dead Girl before at all.
She takes no action, only suggesting to Hellboy, "You look like you could be fun." And, without moving from her position against the alley Ravager states simply, "Give me the five thousand."
She pushes herself off the alley wall, and casually strides over to where Delores' prone figure has sprawled after Dead Girl's toss. The bundle of money she'd been counting still in one hand she extends her other unobligated hand out to Delores. "Now."
Hellboy can't help but grin a bit as soon as he gets the first whiff of the old haunting routine. He's seen it before and it's always well-deserved. And there he was, almost feeling sorry for this old broad with the sob story and the wad of cash.
"DG. Don't see you out and about that much. You usually stay close to home. This dame must be a real piece of work."
"You can take her money, but I wouldn't bother tryin' to do anything against Dead Girl. Cause she's already dead, see? It's in the name and everything. Unless you got a mithril banishing blade or an exorcism brand carved into your tibia or you're a secret necromancer or something. I wouldn't know, I stick to regular romancy myself."
Delores rolls on the ground, groaning in pain. Something might have broken- but she's got enough wits about her to offer the five thousand dollars up to Ravager as she struggles to stand. "Help! She's insane, I didn't do anything to any kids. She's lying!"
Anyone who knows Dead Girl knows she's not much of a liar. She's an old lady without any filter- as she would describe it. She is able to spare Hellboy a smile, "I have my haunts… and my duties."
Dead Girl looks over to Rose, "I do not recommend getting in my way." she says simply, "My beef is with Delores Kincaid- child abuser." She states as she begins to approach, the shadowy figures of a pair of children- a boy and a girl- starting to become more apparent. Ghosts and apparitions- watching as Justice is handed out.
Dead Girl's fingers start to elongate- growing into wicked claws that are dragged across the brink siding of the alley- leaving deep gouges as she approaches slowly. Languidly- she doesn't need to chase this prey. It's there. Ready. "You should know, Delores, that in this city the Dead tell tales. They tell tales to *me*. They tell me about their dreams and their desires and their regrets. They tell me about their lives…. and sometimes… the Dead demand Justice. It would have been easier if you'd admitted it like I told you. If you'd come forward….but you've chosen to be even more of a coward."
Dead Girl's approach is slow, methodical- even as Delores stands and moves to hide behind Rose- who, she assumes, is there to protect her. "Another five thousand if you can get rid of her, she's lying I never hurt anyone, I'm a nurse! I help kids!"
Ravager takes the five grand, thumbing through it quickly, then, while setting it atop her current pile, sets it at a cross. It's nearly impossible to read Ravager, though, as her mouth is set into a thin line, her face and body language nearly indifferent.
Her head tilts up to watch Dead Girl's approach. Her neck turns, slightly, to regard the very large, very red, and very rough looking Hellboy.
She looks back to Delores. "I am helping. You know how hard it is to spend five thousand dollars soaked in blood? Damn shame, it'd be. Almost criminal."
And, just as methodically as she had approached Delores, Ravager walks back over to Hellboy, reclaiming her spot to lean against the alley to prepare to watch the show. She comments to Big Red, "She's fucking stupid, isn't she? Never told her I'd take the job."
Hellboy snorts, "She's desperate. Desperation makes ya stupid. That's why most men are dumbasses."
"Look at it this way, lady - Dead Girl's one of your more civilized avenging spirits. You don't want the guy with the flaming skull or the lady with the cursed pistols. Or the big green ghost cop. They're much nastiers specimens. Don't get me wrong, she's gonna make you suffer, but she's a lamb compared to some."
He takes a puff on his cigar, "Looks like you're gonna be buyin' the drinks, sugar," he says to Rose.
"But.. I paid you to prote…" Delores looks confused, shrieking as Dead Girl gets close to her- the woman stumbling back- running into the alley to get away from Dead Girl. The spirits- the children- run forward more obvious now. The faces of the dead. "Get away from me! I'm sorry, please! I didn't mean for anyone to die!" she shrieks, screaming in terror as Dead Girl continues to approach- grabbing the woman again to drag her further into the alley.
Dead Girl's eyes glow brighter- a flash as she does *something* to the woman. She's shrieking in abject terror now, clawing at her own face- at her own eyes to try and stop whatever images are assaulting her.
Hellboy would likely know- he's undoubtedly seen this before. Dead Girl is bringing Death to life's doorstep and showing Delores all that the living fear most- Dying…. The underworld. The very stuff of Death itself.
Dead Girl's claws grip tight- and while she's gone off into a second alley the screaming only grows. It sounds like someone being tortured.
All but the most stalwart of souls might find themselves shivering as the woman begs for mercy. As she cries out in pain and anguish. Dead Girl doesn't like to kill people- even people like Delores…. But she will ensure she never hurts another soul.
"Are we having drinks?" Rose inquires of Hellboy, not sounding at all opposed to the idea by the tone of her voice. The sound of the screams pierce the night, and Rose's lips twist. But she doesn't say a single word on her thoughts about those particular screams.
As the latter screams fade, instead, Ravager offers to Hellboy, "Ravager."
Hellboy offers the Hand of Doom for a rather massive fistbump, "Hellboy."
He watches but doesn't seem too deeply perturbed about Delores' fate. Not that he gets off on the grisly, he's just seen enough of it. And it's pretty obvious this one deserved it. "Dead Girl don't come out to play much, so you must've been a special kinda sicko, lady. Enjoy Hell, I'll probably get there eventually. I'm gonna tear the place down and rent it out for condos, but I'll get there."
To Delores it likely seemed like hours. When Dead Girl appears again she's dragging the woman behind her- blood dripping from those claws as she tosses Delores into the gutter, and then spits on her.
Delores is shivering, shaking- her face is cut. Her eyes have been removed. She's oddly silent as she shakes and rocks in place like someone having a recurring nightmare. Dead Girl leans down to pick up the woman's phone and dials a number. "The woman who owns this phone is in need of medical attention." she says, her voice so quiet before she tosses the phone down, still on, for it to be found near the woman. Judging by the blood on the woman's fingers she tore her own eyes out- whatever Dead Girl showed her was clearly terrible to her.
Dead Girl takes a slow breath, claps her hands, and then smiles over towards Hellboy and Ravager. "So! That was refreshing! Well. For me, at least- probably less-so for her. Hopefully she remembers this lesson when those naughty urges rise up again."
Ravager takes the five thousand from the 'cross' on her stack of money and hands it towards Dead Girl, while stuffing the other wad of cash into her hidden hip-pocket, just behind her pistols. "Here. Do something with it. Buy a pinata. Or a couple gold plated gravestones. Trauma help. Or, go to Cancun and get some fruity drinks." Basically, Ravager is indirectly telling Dead Girl to give it to the afflicted families.
Hellboy grins, "Aw, you got a little bitty heart in there, don't ya? Just a teensy one, all withered up and lonely, but it's still there," he teases Ravager just a little bit. "C'mon, I'll cover the drinks, that's what I got an Uncle Sam credit card for. Luckily, we're in a mob neighborhood so the pizza's good, too, if you don't mind the occasional gangland slayin' interrupting your slice."
Dead Girl looks at the money, and nods quietly. She tucks the money into her shirt, under the bra. It'll be safe there. "It'll go to the right people." Dead Girl states. "I'd get scarce. Police and EMTs average around five minutes to this part of town." How, exactly, Dead Girl knows that- who knows. She's been in NYC a long time, after all.
"Hey, Red. I'll see you around. Come by and get something to eat sometime, huh? Anyways, I got a few trinkets I thought you might like." she offers, "You know I look out for my friends when weird things come through The Store."
Dead Girl smiles then and begins to walk down the street, singing to herself as she goes. "Weave, Weave, Weave me the sunshine…." ( https://youtu.be/hMRQA86isqE )
Ravager detaches herself from the alleyway, and moves the opposite way of Dead Girl, but still out of the area. She knows it quite well. And, by the time the authorities arrive, well - they're just going to find a babbling madwoman with no eyes.