It's a new day[but an old lie] {Grace}

[julian]

He had to get back to his apartment before it was too late.

Talk about a great way to start of the night, right? No, he couldn’t be wondering what he’d eat, if he’d brave the ex to talk to his kids, or if he should catch the game or go to bed early. He couldn’t be wandering down the darkened street, smiling at happy couples and dwelling on that bitter twang in his chest?

Nope, he wasn’t allowed to do any of that. Not if he wanted to make sure that there wasn’t a triple homicide in the near future. Detroit had already had their fair share of bloody, animal-like maulings, New Orleans had been through enough with Katrina and Utah...well, he wasn't sure what was happening in Utah, but it had to be as innocent as the other states. He couldn’t subject it to more devastation.

…Nor could his conscience stand yet another lost soul. But that was a story for another time.

Hurrying down the street as fast as he could, with a bum leg and one helluva headache, Dr. Julian Jackman, local security expert, careened to a stop just as a taxi rounded the corner. He glared after the driver, lips pulling back in a grimace at the answering horn, and continued on his way. So far, so good, he thought with a grim chuckle. His apartment was another ten minutes away, but he still had time. Thirty to ten; plenty of time to get back and strap himself into the ‘punishment chair.’

His other half had been bad the other night; leaving him to wake up next to a drugged out hooker who looked less 18 than her license claimed. He’d made sure that she wasn’t about to OD and called an ambulance, sure to wipe the surfaces of the seedy motel room, but his dark side had broken the rules.

And there was just no living in their current situation without the rules. Thus, Billy had to be punished.

Grim determination pulled his lips down in a severe frown, and he picked up the pace. He could practically feel the other waking up, rolling around in his head like an impatient child. Upon dual agreement, they’d decided not to listen in on each other’s thoughts when it came time for the switch, and he was grateful for the freedom. If Billy found out that ‘Daddy’ was aiming to strap him down to an iron chair for the night, he’d find himself forced into unconciousness.

Naughty, naughty Junior. But what could he expect from a spoiled child?

“Help! Oh, my God, he’s not breathing!” A panicked voice cut through his thoughts, and he pulled up short in front of a homey apartment. A little boy lay still beneath a front yard tree, and whom he assumed was his mother bending over him. Habit made him stop, assess the situation, come to some medical conclusions…

And hesitate. Dammit, he didn’t have time for this! He glanced down at his watch; 9:45 and ten more blocks to go. Why had he loaned his car to his coworker the other day? He was torn, knowing that if he wasted his time, the monster would come out without restraint. But the mother’s panicked cries, the sight of the small child cradled in her arms…

God, life would be easier if he didn’t have a damn conscience.

With a curse, he flung himself onto the scene, barking out the customary ‘I’m a doctor’ as he went to work. He had to restart respiration and heart beat; combat the shock of the fall and make sure that the kid didn’t bleed out internally. He ordered the mother to call an ambulance, and she complied with the swiftness of a soldier. He kept his compressions gentle, not wanting to force a rib into an already blood-filled space, breathed into the kid’s mouth, and waited for a response.

Finally, it came. With a gasp, the little boy shuddered, drawing air into his lungs. Julian turned him on his side, murmuring comforting words as the mother returned. She was crying into the phone, which dropped to the ground as she snatched up her baby from his arms. The sounds of police sirens could be heard on the horizon. His work was done.

…And time was up.

Eight…seven…six. The timer on his watch beeped a mournful song and he broke out into a run, ignoring the confused voices from behind him. Maybe if he just made it to some abandoned building, just a bit farther, he could hide out in the basement. He could find some ropes, tie himself to a beam, pray for sunrise—

Familiar pain lanced through his belly, and he doubled over, coughing. Frantic, he spotted an alley and forced himself to move toward it. Maybe he could jump into a dumpster and lock himself in? Or a sewer. Get lost in the underground maze and…

Another spasm hit and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Good God, he hated this. Hated the night. The evil, annoying, bastardly…

Crawling to the dumpster, he used it as leverage to haul himself up, breath coming out in harsh gasps. Little pinpricks of darkness were dancing in front of his eyes, even as he fought to stay awake. Blue eyes were slowly morphing into unfeeling black, his dirty blond curls going dark underneath the pale street light.

With one final beep from his watch, Julian fell asleep screaming.
And Hyde woke up.



Straightening, he shoved at a few black locks that streamed into his face, squinting at the blurry world in front of him. “Ugh,” Came the irritable snarl as he rubbed at his temples. Wow, the world was so fuzzy! And…dark. Why was it dark? Had Daddy taken him somewhere fun to play?

Something caught on the dumpster, and he frowned. No, that wasn’t fun, just smelly. He looked down at himself as he stretched and did a double take.

Ralph Lauren shirt? Neatly pressed pants? Sensible shoes? Lucifer’s balls, he was a nun! But he could work with it. He always did.

“Mmm, finally, a breath of fresh air,” He purred, black eyes flickering up to look at the stars. He stretched her arms over his head, laughed into the night and skipped out into the city. The colorful lights of a bar flashed in front of him, and an unnaturally wide smile pasted itself onto his face. Yay, his two favorite things: booze and women!

“Time for some fun, I think.”

[grace]

Grace was bored.

No. Seriously. Bored. How long had it been? Three months easily. Her fingers itched, her palms were sore and there was this annoying little voice in the back of her head that was growing louder, and LOUDER and fucking LOUDER with every moment she spent cooped up inside this damned motel room. Laid on her bed, flat on her back, Grace spread her arms above her head and cocked it to the side, admiring her wall of infamy. Her eyes scanned across her the pictures on her wall, starting at the oldest and scanning across to her newest, a cutie down in Tennessee who had hardly screamed at all, and his blood had been so pretty. One of these days, she really was going to take Elizabeth Bathory up on her idea – how could something so pretty not be great for your complexion?

She crossed her legs, one foot tucked up near her bum, the sole of her foot flat on the bedspread whilst the other tapped in the air to imaginary music. Got, if a kid with ADHD was forced into this room, she wouldn’t need the help of Peeta to end it their life... they may just bash their brains out on the wall out of sheer boredom instead.

Right, she thought, flipping onto her knees and getting to her feet, Grace pressed her fingers against her lips and kissed the last face on her wall before she jumped from the bed. It was time for a new picture, a new face... a new challenge perhaps. She had a gig here and she needed the money... the last kid had been in bed in a matter of hours... no. Maybe something...a little different. Maybe a gurly. She hadn’t had one of those in a while.

She dressed, finding underwear from her pile of clothes and pulling it on quickly, followed by some clothes... a pair of jeans, heels and a shirt that was artistically splattered with blood. Damn... as far as Grace could like something, she appreciated the irony of her wearing such a shirt. This done, she grabbed her camera bag and her jacket and left, not bothering to lock her room door. It wasn’t like she was afraid of being burgled or anything, and besides. Whoever touched her stuff would quite quickly find themselves in her bed, and on her ceiling. Such fun.

It didn’t take long for the woman to find her way to a bar, camera in hand. Drunk peoples were always easier to photograph than their sober alternates – they liked to pose and truly gave the woman a masterpiece for her collection. The music pulsed in her ears as she lifted the camera to her eye. She had digital, but there was something... calming about processing your own pictures in a bathtub in a motel room. It was all part of the process of picking and choosing, and now she looked for the tell tale sign that marked one person out from another, that made the person choose themselves. Grace never chose at random, never just picked someone from a crowd – often times it could take weeks, months.... no. They chose themselves.

There.

A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth as she took a picture of a pretty brunette sat at the bar. Her hair fell over her shoulders and a smattering of freckles across her cheeks gave her a youthful appearance. Her skin was milky white – but it was none of things that pulled the brunette from her seat and made her head towards the bar. No, it was the small smile as the other realised her picture was being taken, the look behind the blue eyes that said it all I want you. You see... victims were never chosen by her because they chose themselves, by choosing her.

Billeh! TURN IT UP! IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME TO NOTES! I'M SO SICK OF In a bar , IT'S MAKING MY BRAIN FINISHE! I'M JUST TALKIN' 643 WORDS. I'M TELLING YOU 'BOUT THAT GRACE . WE'RE SELLIN' KE$HA, SLEEPIN' IN WE R WHO WE R, DRESSIN' IT OUTFIT, HITTIN' ON HOT AND DANGEROUS !? @ CAUTION 2.0. HARD!

[julian]

Oh, how much fun tonight was going to be! All the booze, the smoke, the practically naked women and girls alike! He could just smell the sex in the air, and he got ‘happy’ just thinking about what kinds of trouble he could get into. Oh, how he loved the night and all of its perks.

It was like the night was a little shade was pulled down over the world, hiding all of the seedy pleasures that it afforded. He could drink, he could fight, he could fuck ‘til the cows were carried home in pine boxes- hee, funny analogy!- and in the morning, nobody would know!

Especially not his Daddy. Things always got real sad when Daddy knew about what he did, ‘cause he’d get punished. He didn’t like getting punished.

But none of that now! Oh, this place had so much potential. All of those shaking asses, so ripe for the squeezing, the grinding…

With a wide smile on his face, he leaned forward to take some handfuls of said cheeks, much to the surprise of a dancer. Seeing the crazy face behind her, the poor girl immediately went for her date, wrapping her arms around him. Aw, that was no fun! She was all pretty-like, and breakable—

His eyes traveled up to the bar, instantly catching sight of a brunette idly watching the crowd around them and all thoughts of said girl were forgotten. Like he was hypnotized, he moved toward her; that innocent smile and captivating…waist. Aw, man, he’d really chosen the BEST fucking bar in town tonight! He smacked his palms down onto the bar counter, intent on pulling himself up and get at that delicious morsel, but a voice stopped him.

“Hey, fucktard!” It yelled from behind him. The crowd had instinctively moved away, thanks to the natural ‘crazy mofo’ vibes he usually put out, but now they were farther. He turned, seeing the girl from before’s very buff date standing behind him, his face haughty. “I saw you fucked with my girl. You’re gonna pay for that?”

“Ooh, you must really wanna die. Too bad; I don’t really like killing children.” He couldn’t help but chirp back, smile fixed on his face. Bad, bad voice; distracting him from the piece of candy before him. He wanted to play, not to talk!

So, in the end, everything was hunky-dory when he whipped a hand out, faster than any hand should move, and brought the poor guy’s face to his up-bent knee. A crack, a scream that was swallowed in the music, and he was back to pushing himself up onto the bar.

“Helloooooo, beautiful!” He said happily, completely unaware of the blood on his pants and a woman with a camera speeding toward his prey. “I like the way you sway. Wanna play lions and feel some love tonight? Pleaaase?”

[grace]

Oh, this was going to be easy. As she wandered over, the little doe eyed girl, who barely looked old enough to be in the bar in the first place, was still giving her the eyes, peering through her eyelashes and over her cocktail glass. Grace knew that move – it was often quite an effective way of getting that particular guy/girl to wander over and buy you a drink’ a fabulous way of getting the attention you wanted without reverting to stripping off your clothes and dancing on a pole, and believe me, Grace would know. She’s resorted it on a few occasions, whether for that bit of extra cash or because that guy was too nervous//sober//married to take notice otherwise.

Still, the last thing she was expecting was for the girls small advances to be noticed by another, a man whom it seemed, by the faint screams and the man being rushed through the bar and into the street, and let’s not forget, the blood on his trousers, had just taken it upon himself to rearrange some guys features. On a normal day she might appraise said guy and think of maybe taking his picture, but for now, as irritation or something as close to that as Grace could muster flashed across her features, now was not the time. He was messing with her girl.

Needless, Grace continued forward, even as the other woman’s eyes flickered to this man, confusion slashed across her features. She briefly heard the girl ask about something called lions, a word cut through the music. Well, that was certainly a strange way to pick up girls. Still, as Grace set her mask of flirtation and friendliness into place, an idea occurred to her. She was looking for a challenge was she not, something to keep her entertained for a few days at least – perhaps she could get the two of them.

”Hey guys, ”She smiled, finally reaching the two of them. ”I have to say, girl, you look stunning. I was wondering if maybe the two of you would mind helping me out – i’m doing a set for MTV mag on local clubs, and the people who go. They wanted me to use models, but i think you two might actually be a better idea. I mean, you’re real. ” She saw the girl flatter and smiled, resting one of her hands on the girls forearm. ”Hey, don’t worry. Just a few shots, and besides, mr here will keep you safe i’m sure.” The petite brunette nodded, and Grace smiled even wider. ”Awesome” – sometimes it was a little too easy. She turned the other man, ”What about mr? Wanna have some fun on the dancefloor?”

Billeh! TURN IT UP! IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME TO NOTES! I'M SO SICK OF In a bar , IT'S MAKING MY BRAIN FINISHE! I'M JUST TALKIN' 451 WORDS. I'M TELLING YOU 'BOUT THAT GRACE . WE'RE SELLIN' KE$HA, SLEEPIN' IN WE R WHO WE R, DRESSIN' IT OUTFIT, HITTIN' ON HOT AND DANGEROUS !? @ CAUTION 2.0. HARD!