MJ, once clothed
Mary Jane's Story
MJ,
once clothed
The night wind howls, the cold air stinging my skin. Slowly, very slowly, I sit up, the cold, hard concrete leaving its bloody mark as I stand to glare into the darkness.
There’s a sound in the dark, and I step into the shadows. The shadows and I are one. I know they are the only safe place I have. Dark blood dribbles down the left side of my face. There is pain. Pain is nothing. It’s always there, as is the confusion. I can’t help wondering how I know that.
“Come out here, bitch!” a voice growls as the body going with it steps into the small pool of thick black liquid that matches that which flows through my body and down the side of my face. “I’m gonna give you another fuck before killing you, freak!”
I look down to find my body bare, and detachedly note the pain and blood coming from between my legs. I’d been raped. The lack of emotion associated with that thought baffles me.
No matter. I know what must be done.
My hand snaps out of the shadows, one with them, my usually pale skin pitch black. The man, my rapist, gurgles in surprise and pain when my long fingers wrap themselves around his neck before my arm snaps back with him in my powerful grip. His eyes bug out at seeing my left eye glowing a deep red and my eye-teeth growing into long, sharp fangs.
“What are you?” he whispers in a voice wrought with fear.
“A being out of your nightmares,” I reply coldly before pulling him close and sinking my fangs deep into his neck.
He groans as I draw blood from him, a mixture of pain, terror and pleasure escaping his throat.
I taste the mixture of health and disease in the filthy blood. Again, that doesn’t matter. I drain him, and let the limp, empty body fall to the hard ground as my fangs retract. I look briefly into the wide, dead eyes as my wounds heal and I wonder how I’d gotten into this situation. Indeed, I wonder who, what and where I am. I wipe the deep red liquid dribbling down my chin away as I step back into the shadows, hushing the glow of my eye, and that of the red and opaque white streaks in my hair.
Soon, there are more voices as two teenage boys pass by.
“Shit,” one of them starts in a strange voice, sounding as if he’s trying to hold his breath while talking. “This shit’s good…”
The other boy takes a drag from the strange cigarette they’re sharing. “Yeah,” he responds in a voice similar to his friend’s. “I love my Mary Jane.”
They burst into giggles for no reason I could decipher. Once they disappear down the street, I feel the presence of a large man in the ally. I turn to face him and find him looking directly at me. Why am I surprised those glowing eyes of his can see me?
“What’s your name?” he asks.
I pause uncertainly, not knowing the answer. I give him the name that first comes to mind. “Mary Jane.”
He quirks a brow and drapes his trench over my naked shoulders. “Well, Miss Jane, would you like a job and place to stay?”
I look him up and down. His frame is muscular, his face and hair forgettable now that his eyes have stopped glowing. What do I have to lose?
“Tell me more.”
He smiles and rests an arm over my shoulders, walking me to my future.
