Fucking Jinxed It

Well, I asked for a fight, and that's just what I got.  The roof where I was intending to spend last night ended up being a bit more exciting than I'd planned. Somebody (probably fucking Fracture, the son of a bitch) had set a group of hollowed to attack me. Why, I'm not certain. You'd have to be completely fucking retarded to think five empty shells could possibly take me down. They went down easy, and I was already on the fire escape when the skinny fucker showed up to smack me around again. Didn't waste any time, just smacked me right off the fourth floor fire escape.

I was pretty sure I was going to die when I hit the ground. It felt like a long fucking time, too. Way longer than four floors should have lasted. It was like.. fucking Alice in Wonderland bullshit, where the bitch is falling down the rabbit hole. Except that instead of falling into a room with a teeny fucking door, I fell into some guy's arms.

I punched him out, squirmed out of his arms, and pulled a knife. He had a bouquet in his hands, he must be the motherfucker who's been leaving them for me. This time instead of roses, it was... some weird looking white flowers. Lilies, I think they're called. The scent of them was too strong, it filled the alley and made me want to throw up.

For one heartstopping moment I thought it was Writer. Certainly looked like him. The same crazy too-red hair, the same pale skin, the same too-wide smile, and with the scent of the lilies filling the alleyway it even smelled like his stupid fucking perfume.

But his eyes... Writer's were cartoonishly bright and inquisitive, whereas this motherfucker's were just... black. And not even just black. Like falling into a pit just by looking at him. I might've stared at them for hours in shock if he hadn't started laughing at me, that same laugh I'd heard too many times from our old handler when he was about to fuck us in the ass.

His voice was just like Writer's, too. "It's good to finally meet you."

I glared at him and got ready to attack. "What the fuck do you want?"

The motherfucker just laughed again at my attempts to look threatening. "I just wanted to give you a new bouquet. Did you not like the roses?"

"FUCK YOUR ROSES. I want you gone. Permanently."

"That's just not happening, mon chere." Fuck, he even uses French like Writer. What the hell is this guy's deal? "Take your bouquet, and I'll be on my way."

He handed it to me rather too forcefully and walked away. I threw a throwing knife and took him down... too easily. I checked him out, he's definitely dead, but I don't expect that to be the end of it. Who the hell IS this guy?

What the Fuck?

Don't trust Azrael. I know who he is now. He's not to be trusted, all he does is hurt people. And he likes it. Disgusting son of a bitch. The things I could tell you about him... but I won't. I still have respect for the dead, and they wouldn't want me to tell. So, Az, you're secret's safe with me. But I still hate you. And if I see you, you're dead.

As dead as Fracture will be if he ever shows his face here again. Shortly after my last post, the motherfucker showed up at the warehouse I'd chosen to spend the night, uninvited. He claimed he wanted to fucking help, but the arrogant son of a bitch doesn't seem to understand that it's only help if it's wanted. He's lucky I didn't kill him when I had the chance. The next time anyone approaches me looking to 'help' that doesn't ask first gets a knife in their eye.

And that goes double for whoever's leaving me fucking roses. I wasn't joking, last post, they keep fucking turning up wherever I am. I'm wondering if it's more of Fracture's brilliant recruiting strategy. If so, he's fucked up again. Leaving flowers is a disgustingly chauvinistic thing to do. I don't like flowers and I don't like men giving me feminine gifts. Or any gifts at all. Or men in general.

Fucking tall bastard at least treats me like a human being instead of like a WOMAN. Give me a good fight any day. This shit is disgusting.

Disgusting Bullshit

I worked for the Boss for a couple years without seeing the tall motherfucker. And now... well, I guess I see what the runners were all bitching about. The past couple weeks have fucking sucked. I never really got it before, it was just a job and I didn't really believe all this crap the runners spewed about the tall shit being super powerful and whatever, because it didn't make sense.

I knew what the Boss could do, and it was pretty fucking incredible. I knew what HIS boss could do, and it was downright fucking terrifying. But people like me live by our knives and don't pay attention to the bumps in the night because we ARE them.

This thing can't be cut, can't be killed... I always said I never met a man I couldn't kill, but this isn't exactly a man... The bruises are accumulating and I'm pretty sure I've got a couple broken ribs by now. What I don't understand is why, if the motherfucker is this vicious, it needed us in the first place.

Some of you fuckwits would say this is payback, that this is what I get for working for the tall fuck and for not caring about who I killed.  I expect I'll die alone just like all of the shitheads I did for myself. I can't say I'm surprised.

But this fuckwad's got another thing coming if he thinks I'm coming back or giving up, so he can stop fucking leaving me flowers. This shit is disgusting.