Death On Els Street

Susan lived in a white two-story building surrounded by trees, and located in a secluded part of the city. No one, save for Susan, lived here, and she loved and appreciated the serene environment.

Susan led Jake (who stood to have one more look at her surrounding) to the door which Jake didn't notice opened to her with a single nod.

"This place is a bit far from the city," Jake said.

"It's on the outskirts of the city to be precise," Susan said and walked in. "Come in."

Jake went in, the door slowly closed behind him as he took in the grandeur of Susan's beautiful home.

"Take the stairs to the second floor, Susan said, "and pick any room you like, but avoid the room on the first floor to the right."

"You hide charms in there?" Jake said jokingly.

Susan turned to look at him, her expression bland.

"Hey, I was just joking," he added.

She smiled. "I know you were."

"There are no taxis here. At least, I barely saw any. How do I make it to the city since I'm in need of a job?"

"Can you drive?"

Jake nodded. "Automatics. Not very good with manuals."

"Good. The garage has any car you'd like to ride. It's an underground garage only I have access to, so enjoy the comfort of the house. I'll meet you later to give you the security pass."

"Okay. Thank you for this."

Susan watched him go upstairs, and once she knew he was out of earshot, she said, "Don't kill him. He's my guest."

The walls responded by gently swinging the hanging frames of art.

"Good." She spun and walked out of the house.

Susan appeared in a dark alley on Els Street, the wind welcomed her with a howl and gently caressed her hair. She noted the beggar sleeping by the corner, his arm was bleeding. She looked to his can and saw it was empty, she walked up to him.

Susan paused her footsteps and deposited some money into his can, then she said, "You'll soon wake. And when you do, you'll know life in the mud no longer suits you." She stood and walked past him in her dark coat, his arm stopped bleeding, his wound closed.

Susan walked out into broad daylight, she looked to both ends of the street. Beatrice lived in this rough neighbourhood, her gaze fell on a group of bare-chested, tattooed covered, and dangerous-looking men with dogs by the roadside, she walked up to them.

Susan noted the guns in their hands, she looked away from it for there was only one true danger on this street, and she was now before them.

"What are you doing in a hood like this baby?" one of the men with a face cap worn backward asked.

"I wish to see Beatrice," Susan said.

"She's working. But you're welcome to wait with us inside. We'll like to see what beauties your body has to offer."

"I could show them to you right here if you'll prove to be man enough to own me."

The men around made an ooh sound to the man with a face cap, he stepped forward and removed his belt.

Susan arched her brow. "Is that all you have, or is your sex too small to show it off?"

"Give me your purse."

The men surrounded her, other members of the group spotted on the other side of the street ran across to join in. Only if they knew what they were running to.

Normal citizens who sensed trouble went into their houses to lock their doors, and close up their windows and curtains.

Susan looked at the hostility around her and smiled. "That's more like it. But it's not enough."

"Give me your purse. I won't repeat it again."

"I don't carry one," Susan said to the man before her with a face cap.

He came close and said in a low tone, "Then, you'll surely have the beauties beneath your coat to offer to us."

"They are quite dangerous."

"You don't understand, miss. We'll be taking turns on you right on the street, and your moans would attract those who just closed their windows to see a live porn action. Then, we'll let you run along when we're done with you. That's if you'll be able to walk."

Susan sighed. "Glad you made your intentions quite clear. Let me make mine crystal. You know those movies where the sweet, helpless, innocent girl runs from the bad, sex, hungry guys who are chasing her in the dark?"

"Uh-huh." The man said and crossed his hand before him.

"You've been seeing too much of those movies, and am I correct?" 

She was, but he concealed it. So what if she watched the same channel like he did.

"I guess I am," Susan said. "Thing is, this is not that movie. In this, however, you all die."

"Oh please, shut up," one said from behind and tried to grab her shoulder.

With brisk unseen movements, Susan ripped off his arm, lopped off his head, his body staggered back and thumped to the floor, his head bounced not so far, Susan deposited the arm before the man with the face cap.

Susan knew they didn't expect this, she read the look of pure dread and surprise on their faces, she gave a gesture. "Who's next?"

Some of the men ran with the dogs, others spread out, aiming at her with their guns, they opened fire.

Susan stood still and let them offload their cartridges. She didn't feel a thing as multiple holes bore through her coat, bullet shells fell like rain from the shooters, and around her, squeezed bullets.

All this for a girl she didn't care about. Maybe she did care. No. She didn't care. If she cared, Beatrice would be dead. It was a beautiful lie. After all, death is what she came seeking.

Some stopped firing in hopes to reload their guns, just then, the holes on Susan's coat closed, she moved with the speed of light.

Susan released a head from her grasp which fell to a mound of heads she had looped off, all in the breeze of a second, she walked to stand where she had been standing, the headless bodies spaced out, and stilled around her holding their guns all fell to the ground.

Just one man left, real horror-stricken he was. He prayed in his mind, but his mouth said the words out in the wrong way.

Susan smiled. "No one would hear you now. I was who you were to avoid all along." She raised her head. "How short-sighted you humans are."

Her gaze fell to him.

"More would come to avenge me," he said.

"Who said anything about avenging? You?" She arched her brow. "Well, they could come. But where you're going to, if you find someone stronger, do send them my way. I beg you. I need to release this tension for blood. It's becoming too much that I now have to live with the temptation myself."

The man sniffed.

Susan removed his face cap, and saw he had a mass of brown hair. She took hold of it and pulled with ease, his head left his neck as he was forever embraced by the darkness. She cast his head to the road knowing one thing, this act, none on this street would remember it once she left. The police would come, as they should, death always attracted them, but the residents really won't remember what happened here. They'll be mute on the subject, and some would say it was gang-related.

She disappeared, the beggar she had earlier helped, stepped out of the dark alley to bask in the sunlight. His gaze met the street with dreadful surprise, he ran as one would for his life—his can well concealed in his jacket. No one to say thanks to, no single soul save for the dead.

"Thank you," he said to the air.

Wherever Susan was, she heard it, for air did report it to her.