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Post by The Black Angel on April 29th 2013, 4:42 pm

(Lets assume this happens sometimes before the "Unchained Dragon" thread)

The Black Angels Apartment, Chicago: The Black Angel's dingy little South Side apartment was a dark place the last week, both literally, but also figuratively, as the shades were drawn over the windows of her tiny apartment, as well as the crime fighters mind. Katsumi was away in Rome, and seemed a million miles away, and the thin red line which separated brutal campaign against the Triad, from all the campaigns she'd previously fought as a ruthless, but greedy mercenary were blurring. Perhaps it was her run in with the wolf boy, perhaps it was the fact she'd simply grown tired of being surrounded by death and destruction, or perhaps it was because she knew she was essentially back from the dead to cause just that, albeit under the auspices of a higher power.

In any event, it had been over a week since she'd been out destroying the Triad's base of operations in Chicago. Instead of long lonely nights, with gunfights, the Black Angel locked herself in her apartment, with only her mind to keep her occupied. It was then that she fell back into the old habits, and comforts of the bottle. During her time as "Soldier of Fortune", she gained a reputation for fast living, fast cars, private jets, and the upscale party scene. The bottles of vodka she drank alone over the last week was certainly a far cry from the "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" life she lived before, but the numbing comfort alcohol provided remained the same.

The Black Angel was truly lost... Killing Triads, destroying their North American Empire, revenge... All of this was supposed to make her feel like she was finally fighting back against those who'd wronged her in the past, accept she simply didn't feel anymore, at least since she'd been without Katsumi. She'd never had to deal with these feelings before, as she'd never truly let her guard down before, and certainly had never let someone that far in to her true feelings.

Whatever the case, she certainly wasn't in the mood for fighting the Triad.... However in between shots straight from the bottle, the Black Angel stumbled upon the front page of the Chicago Examiner, which had been delivered at some point during the week. After thumbing through the first couple of pages, which held the usual stories about Washington's gridlock politics, the Cubs typical bad play, and the cities corruption, she happened to stumble upon a particular story of interest, which read "Killings of several women believed to be prostitutes linked to one man, the serial killer now known as the South Side Ripper. Panic has gripped women throughout Chicago, as the South Side Ripper's reign of terror continues with police having no leads.".

The Black Angel tossed the paper down, and reaching behind the couch, grabbed her Glock 9mm, saying "Well I think this is something that could get me out of the house......". With that she gathered her things, and began to prepare for another night on the town.

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Post by The Black Angel on April 30th 2013, 11:32 am

Back of the Yards Neighborhood, Chicago: The Black Angel made the short drive across Chicago's South Side to the Back of the Yards Neighborhood in good time. Chicago's South Side was a collection of rundown industrial parks, small commercial plots, and some of the cities worst housing projects, which contributed a great deal to the cities reputation of crime and violence. The Back of the Yards Neighborhood was no different, known as New City in the past, it once was home to mostly Central European immigrants in the past, but now was occupied by mostly Mexican Americans. This was on clear display by the storefronts the Black Angel passed in her black SUV, signs were written in Spanish, Mexican food vendors lined the sides of the streets, however they were all closed it seemed, with "Closed" signs hanging in many windows, others had their doors gated and locked.

The Back of the Yards Neighborhood was out of the Black Angels typical Chinatown territory, but she'd learned enough Spanish in her days as "Soldier of Fortune" from fighting Marxist Revolutionaries throughout South America to get around. She developed a love for Spanish food there, and at the very least the Black Angel figured she'd be able to score some of the best food in the city tonight. However the rich Mexican culture which she expected to find in Back of the Yards Neighborhood was noticeably absent from the neighborhoods streets, as the streets were empty, paranoia over the "South Side Ripper's" wave of killings reaching a fever pitch in the hardest hit part of city.

The Black Angel slowed her SUV to a crawl as she passed a dark alley, which filled her truck with the smell of old raw sewage and decay, "Well this place is bleak..... Very bleak...." she said to herself. The Back of the Yards Neighborhood had every reason to be bleak, as the six killings now attributed to the South Side Ripper, all but one were residents of the neighborhood. Two Maria Jimenez and Conseula Ochoa were illegals, the third Marta Gonzalez was a first generation immigrant, the fourth Anna Zemanova was a Russian immigrant from Pullman. The only thing the police, or the Black Angel could find that linked the four was their profession, which was believed to be prostitution, which thrived in the South Sides poorer neighborhoods.

Using her contacts in the Chicago PD, the Black Angel was able to learn that all the victims had been killed in an unbelievably brutal manner, which made veteran detectives sick to their stomachs. Body parts had been removed with uncanny precision, which implied the South Side Ripper had killed before, as the bodies showed no signs of an unsteady blade. This led Detectives, as well as the Black Angel to believe the South Side Ripper was trained with a blade, perhaps a butcher, as their were several large slaughterhouses in Chicago's South Side. Perhaps most disturbing was the facts the women had likely had their body parts removed while they were still alive, police toxicology reports indicating they were sedated before they were killed.

The Black Angel shuddered as she contemplated the thought of being cut to pieces while she was still breathing. Perhaps strangest of all was the fact that each victim had separate parts removed, which didn't fit the typical nature of a serial killer, who almost always killed all their victims in the same manner, or so she was told by Detective Zambrano, who she used as her informant at Chicago PD. Zambrano was a good man, who was as sick of the corruption of Chicago's finest as she was, and gave her information that top PD brass swept under the rugs. She stopped by his office at Police Headquarters before heading to the Back of the Yards Neighborhood to get his take on the killings, which he said was being ignored by the police, "Who are more interested in protecting upper class neighborhoods, and busting shoplifters.". The Black Angel posed as Zambrano's girlfriend during her visit, which got the detective a few high fives, as the Chinese beauty left the building.

Now she was in the thick of things, having parked her car in the parking lot of a small grocery store, deciding to walk the rundown streets of the Back of the Yards Neighborhood herself. Taking a quick right, down a dark side street the Black Angel noticed several women walking at the streets far end, and figured she'd reached the Back of the Yards Neighborhoods red light district. The sight of the scantly clad figures, who were working the streets despite the dangers brought back thoughts of the Black Angels own mother, who was brutally killed for resisting Dragon Head. A thought which caused the Black Angels checks to rise, and a sigh to escape her delicate lips, as she figured she was no closer to stopping Dragon Head and the Triad as she was before she started.

Nevertheless she felt like she was in some way honoring her mother in trying to bring an end to this psychopaths reign of terror, and at the very least she figured she was preventing a girl not unlike herself from one day turning into her. She was far from a cop, investigation wasn't her fortay, but she'd been around plenty of Psychopaths, and dealing with them in a manner they deserved was her speciality.

Noticing a small, black, steel fire escape ladder on the side of the tall brick building to her right, the Black Angel quickly made a dash for it, disappearing into the shadows in her black catsuit. Quickly scaling the ladder to the top of the building, the Black Angel quickly made her way to the edge of the building, where she disappeared behind the short brick wall that overlooked the ledge of the building. Looking upon the scantly clad women down the other end of the street, the Black Angel whispered to herself "Fear not..... An angel watches over you tonight....".


Last edited by The Black Angel on May 2nd 2013, 2:45 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post by The Black Angel on May 1st 2013, 3:03 pm

Community Area of Beverly, South Side of Chicago: The man known as the South Side Ripper smiled a devilish smile from the shadows of one of the South Sides more affluent neighborhoods. The man who'd terrorized the immigrant prostitutes of the South Sides poorer neighborhoods, had now taken his "Game" to its next step.... Escalation... Because while his first killings had terrorized the downtrodden neighborhoods of Chicago's South Side, they only caused the more affluent neighborhoods residents to look over their shoulders in the night. The South Side Ripper was a recent fixture of the back pages of Chicago's newspapers, now he thought it was time he escalated his "Festival of the Grotesque" to the recesses of every resident of Chicago's consciousness, capturing their imagination, as well as their fears and terror.

Capturing the general public's fear and imagination was exactly what he'd done this unusually cold night in this windswept city on the shores of Lake Michigan, for this night he'd spilled patrician blood. The South Side Ripper, dressed in a black sweat suit, which clung tightly to his unremarkable body, giving the Ripper the appearance of your average middle aged jogger. Perhaps the only thing to separate the ripper from any other resident of Beverly was the blood stains that ran down his track jacket, all the way to his pants and shoes. It was close to eleven, and he'd been at his work for two hours, methodically cutting, hacking, and disecting his latest victim. The streets were empty, a good thing for the ripper, as he was carrying a cardboard box that's base was covered in blood, which was no doubt pooling inside the box.

He'd come across his latest victim not unlike the last, as he found her on the street, although instead of working, the tall blonde was jogging. When she first laid eyes on him she smiled, acknowledging his own smile, no doubt thinking he another middle aged professional who called Beverley home. He imagined she was like everyone else in Beverley, living their cookie cutter, cubicle lives, trapping themselves in the confines of what society expected of typical "Successful" types. He smirked as he remembered her smile, as he'd lulled another victim into being complacent. She clearly didn't know what was coming, and that was what he enjoyed most, that look of terror, of true horror when he revealed himself to his victims. He was a king, no..... A god here... He was truly free, and he would live out his opulent nightmares as a king ruling over mere mortals. True he was no "Meta", just a normal man on the surface, but so unlike his peers he'd always felt truly alone.

As opened the door to his beat up station wagon he wondered about the life of his latest victim, who he'd forever remember as "Blondie", she certainly had money. It was evident from the rich perfume she used, to the manicured nails he collected, and the finally whitened teeth he removed along with the rest of her mouth. As he started the car he felt a sort of self satisfaction that she could never leave, never leave his collection, never leave his mind, and she would be bound to him for eternity, forever locked in his vault. He drove off feeling more accomplished then he had the previous six killings, as killing whores made he seem like an exterminator killing vermin. Nevertheless those downtrodden women played their part, much like "Blondie", whose name rolled off his lips in a sweet sort of way.

This killing was his most intimate, the one that most brought out his inner hatred, to the point they had to restrain him from getting to carried away with "Blondie". His excitement for this next faze was almost greater then there restraint, as he'd even taken her second digit with him as a memento. This would terrorize all of Chicago, not just the ne'er-do-well's, and the vagabonds, but the upper crust as well, as his reign of terror now knew no social barriers. In this world of disgusting political correctness, of fake half measures, and liars, his knife would be the voice of reason, demoting everyone to their most basic instinct.... Fear....

His beat up 80's, tan station wagon slowly made its way across Beverley, a community that would be awaking with horror, which truly made him smile, as he knew they were pleased. It had been some years since they first dwelt in his mouth, telling him what to say, and since then they had shown him true freedom, living by the means that came natural to him. Over the years they refined him, prepared him for the "Festival of the Grotesque" he'd unleash upon Chicago this summer. This was their time....

"First things first..." he said to himself, realizing he was getting ahead of himself once again, and in getting ahead of himself he was taking away from the trophies of the present. Turning his head to the ride he laid his gaze upon the bloody cardboard box beside him which held "Blondie's" jaw. He lost himself in the moment, taking himself back to the moment he ran besides her again, seeing her smile once again meet his eyes, then seeing that smile turn to horror and surprise as he pushed her into an alleyway. Bringing his attention to the road once more, he softly said "Sorry Blondie... It's all I could do to stop love....".

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
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Lord Marcus Dark
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Post by The Black Angel on May 2nd 2013, 2:50 pm

Community Area of Beverly, South Side of Chicago: The Black Angel was watching over the handful of prostitutes brave enough to walk the streets of the Back of the Yards Neighborhood after the "South Side Ripper's" wave of killings in the area, when she received a call from Detective Zambrano about the Ripper's latest murder, the detective only saying "Meet me where Oak St meets Field Rd in Beverly.... There has been another killing". Her source in the Chicago PD seemed disturbed over the phone, his stomach churned from the brutality of the killing of Sarah Knox, a middle aged tax accountant from Beverly, which was not a thing to do to a seasoned detective in one of the countries most crime riddled cities.

It was a short drive for the Black Angel in late night traffic, but the contrasts between Beverly and the Back of the Yards couldn't be more pronounced and dramatic. The Black Angel realized that from turning his killings from immigrant prostitutes, to likely an upper middle class white American, well.... The city would be in full panic mode, with the media likely to turn this into a circus, as they tended to do when the quite lives of "Normal" people were brought to such violent ends. The Black Angel noticing nearly all the houses in Beverly were gated, and some even walled, said to herself "Well..... For all there walls and cameras, they can't keep the boogie man out any better then the rest of us...".

The Black Angel had lived at both ends of the spectrum, as a poor child in Hong Kongs worst neighborhoods, as a wealthy mercenary, jet setting from one conflict zone to the other, and now found herself somewhere in between those extremes. For her, neither poverty, nor riches brought happiness, but only her pursuit of money brought shame to her. The blood she spilled for money making her realize at this stage of her life, the inherent evil in money if it became ones priority to get it at any cost. As she traveled deeper into the opulent corridors of Beverly she began to have the hunch that the "South Side Ripper" was making a statement with this latest killing.... No one was safe.... Not even money could buy protection from the ripper.

As she pulled up to where Oak St met Field Rd, she noticed Detective Zambrano's unmarked police car sitting to the side of the road. Stopping her SUV behind Zambrano's car, she shut her engine off, and stepped out of the black 4x4. Detective Zambrano had been leaning against the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette, which he threw down the moment the Black Angel walked over to greet him. He looked unkempt, his graying black curly hair looking messy, his face looking as if he hadn't shaved in a few days, and the bags under his eyes showing it had been some time since the deceivingly handsome man had slept. He was wearing a pin strip button up dress shirt, with tan pants, and a black overcoat, which in this weather was more for style then necessity.

When the Black Angel stopped a few paces in front of the detective she said, "Wow.... Zambrano.... You look like shit....". Detective Zambrano didn't sound amused as he said "If you saw what I just saw Angel.... You'd look like shit to.... I haven't been home in three days... These killings... They began six weeks ago, started with prostitutes like you know, immigrants, mostly Latin... He's killed three people in the last three days. In my line of work that's unusual... Normally they take some time, even a few days. The Ripper.... He's highly unusual...". The Black Angel quickly said "He's a serial killer detective... They tend to be that way...". Zambrano ignored the Black Angels witty remark and threw seven sets of pictures on the roof of his car, saying "Take a look for yourself.... The prostitutes all had their sexual organs removed, anything that would identify them as female. It was done with the skill of a surgeon, though the proximity to slaughterhouses and meat packing plants likely means it's a butcher... The last pictures... Where I just came from.... He took her jaw, throat, anything used for speech, as well as her heart....".

The Black Angel took the pictures, looking them over methodically, even though they even turned her stomach, which was use to appalling horrors. She nodded her head while composing herself, then said "Well he was killing prostitutes because of there profession, taking there sexual organs for there over use of them.... But why this woman's mouth and heart?" she shook her head in frustration. Zambrano looked equally puzzled and said "I don't know, but the chances are he will take the same organs from his next victim.... Here is what I've been able to find out on Knox." Zambrano handed the Black Angel a thick folder, saying "Single, neighbors called her "Busy, but friendly...", seemingly your average yuppie...". The Black Angel took the folder, then said "Are you deputizing me Detective Zambrano?". The Detective nodded and said "Unofficially... Look this department is crippled by cops who don't give a fuck.... That's why you do what you do, and why I don't care that you do.... I need you on this Angel... And don't act like you weren't out around the Back of the Yards Neighborhood.... I know why you called me asking about these murders....". The Black Angel shook her head, saying "Nope.... Just curious about what I was seeing on the news...", knowing her attempt at fooling the detective wasn't working as she hoped.

Detective Zambrano opened the door to his car, but before getting in said "The last six were from Back of the Yards, or neighboring it..... Chances are the next killing will be in or around Beverly.... You better believe we'll be watching this neighborhood like hawks.... But I'd feel better if we had a guardian angel...". The Black Angel nodded and softly said "Don't we all....", then went back to her 4x4, tossing the papers Zambrano had given her inside. She sighed as she started the car, saying "Things would be so much simpler if I still didn't care about the greater good....". Try as she might, she was turning into something resembling those who went around calling themselves, or were called hero's, and Zambrano knew it as much as she did. Perhaps that's why she tried to resist it.... Because her hands were as bloody as the Rippers...

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
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Post by The Black Angel on May 3rd 2013, 2:37 pm

To set the mood

Downtown Chicago, Chi-Town, USA: It was even worse then the Black Angel expected as she traversed the sidewalks of Downtown Chicago, on her way to meet with an old friend she believed could help her and Detective Zambrano on the South Side Ripper case. The Ripper had moved from the inner pages of newspapers, and was suddenly thrust onto every front page in the city with his killing of Sarah Knox, a well off businesswoman from Beverly, whose gruesome murder was being sensationalized by Chicago's frenzied media members.

Walking past a busy news stand, which sold all of Chicago's leading news publications, the Black Angel glanced at the mornings headlines. The Tribune's headline read "Ripper strikes again! Kills woman from Beverly!", the Sun read "South Side Ripper's bloody rampage continues!", while the Times acquired a leaked picture of Sarah Knox's lifeless body, her mouth removed, with the above title reading "South Side Ripper on the loose! Who's next?". Her eyes then drifted to the magazine section, where the lives of drugged out partying stars, and attention whores was displayed for all to see. The Black Angel scoffed as she continued to walk past the news stand, where the newsy was fast at work, exchanging dollar bills for papers.

Next to the news stand an old woman, dressed in a simple gray dress, which looked like it was a costume from "Little House of the Prairie", ranted and raved about humanities sins, and eternal damnation, much as she did every other day. The woman had an old mutt sitting at her feet, whose graying hairs and weathered appearance matched her own. The woman cried out in a fanatic, raspy voice, screaming ""All in all, if you're claiming to be a Christian, but you deny what the Bible says about God and His hatred of all workers of iniquity, then you're dealing with the scripture in a whorish manner! Every human, at the moment of birth, utterly deserves to go straight to Hell! Only through Christ can you be saved!!". Her voice trailed off the further the Black Angel walked down the street, until she could no longer make out the preachers words.

Paranoia was in the air, as people looked over their shoulders constantly, each wondering if the person next to them could be the ripper, or perhaps even his next victim. The police were seemingly powerless to stop the serial killer, as Chicago PD's spokesperson said the department had no solid leads as to who was the South Side Ripper. There was talk many small businesses in the South Side were closing before dark, despite what was now a massive police presence in the South Side, especially in Beverly. The people of Chicago had little faith in their corrupt police department however, and those who could leave the city for a few days, made arrangements, and left taking the many arteries that flowed through Chicago like a river.

A short walk later and the Black Angel was at her destination, an old friends apartment, which was an older building made of red bricks. Wasting little time, the Black Angel dressed in a brown leather jacket, black leather pants, and a loose fitting white t shirt, ran up the steps, to her old friend David Murphy's first floor apartment. David was a psychic well known in occult circles, who'd helped the Black Angel back in her days as Soldier of Fortune, when she needed expert advice on a rebel group in Africa who was led by a self proclaimed Mahdi, who had knowledge that no ordinary person would likely have. David's advice helped Soldier of Fortune and her mercenaries crush the Mahdi's forces, and reestablish governmental control over the tiny Central African nation. Soldier of Fortune and David remained friends, though they fell out of touch during her coma.

Ringing the doorbell, the Black Angel was swiftly greeted by David, who paused for a moment when he answered the door, saying "Kimberly.... I thought you were dead?" in his aristocratic English accent, prompting the Black Angel to shake her head, saying "Sorry to disappoint.... The Triad got lucky, I won't make that same mistake twice.". David nodded his head, thinking on the fact his friend was now alive, he then smiled, saying "Well come in... Come in! We have much to catch up on....". The Black Angel smiled, saying "Certainly...", and headed inside her friends posh Chicago digs, which was decorated with occult artifacts from around the world, which surprisingly blended with the very modern furnishings of the apartment.

Sitting on his couch, David grabbed two wine glasses from a nearby table, and took a bottle of red wine from his wine rack, uncorking it, and pouring two sizable glasses. He handed one glass to the Black Angel who said "It's 9 o'clock in the morning David.... Held out this long I'm surprised....", David smiled and said "The underutilized mind goes to drink as it often does.... Now tell me... What brings you here? I'm guessing you're not on holiday? And what the hell happened to you in New York?". The Black Angel took a healthy swig of her wine, then replied "I know you want to look David.... Care for a peak??", David smiled and said "May I?", to which the Black Angel nodded. David grabbed his wine glass, and moved next to the Black Angel, placing his glass on the table in front of them, and the extended his hands and cracked his knuckles, saying "Lets have a look.", at which time he placed each hand of a side of the Black Angels head.

Visions now filled the psychics head, visions of the Black Angels fight with the Perfect Soldier, then visions of her near death experience and rebirth as the Black Angel, then her waking up at the hospital in New York City and subsequent journey from New York City to Chicago, followed by her coming to Chicago and operations against the Triad, her meeting with Katsumi and their battle with Shadow Wolf, her and Katsumi making love, which was then followed by visions of the Black Angels loneliness and depression, then her meeting with Detective Zambrano before her visions became very dark, so dark that David tried to pull away, but was unable to. He saw snapshot photographs of the Rippers first victims, which came to life, moaning lustfully, their sexual organs and breasts removed, he then saw the Rippers most recent victim, who was drowning in a sea of money, her mouth and heart removed. Next David was transported to what for lack of a better term was hell on earth, the full moon having turned to fire, dripping with blood, and screaming out in a demonic voice "Why have you come here mystic!!!", at which point David was finally able to rip his hands free of the Black Angels head.

Now back in reality, David laid crumpled some 10 feet from the couch, the Black Angel immediately getting to her feet, saying "David what happened??? Are you all right??". David slowly sat to his feet, he was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. In a exhausted voice, he said "You're here because of the Ripper.... Kimberly.... I was channeled somehow from you, to him.... Whatever your interest is in him.... Drop it.... I don't know why, I don't know how..... But he's evil.... He's pure evil.... Ancient evil....". The Black Angel sighed, taking in what her friend just said, realizing this was more then just some sadistic freak now.

(45 Minutes Later)

The Black Angel brought over a hot cop of tea to her friend David, who was recovering from his visions on the couch. The Black Angel placed the tea on the table beside him, and said "Come on... Drink this and you'll feel better.", David sat up and sipped at the warm Earl Grey Tea. When he put the cup down, he was silent for a moment, as the Black Angel sat beside him. After a few moments he turned to his friend, saying "I know you're to stubborn to let this thing go...", the Black Angel smiled and said "You're psychic after all.", to which David laughed, saying "You know you're in Chicago for good reason.... When this city burned down in the 1890's it brought untold destruction, but out of the ashes this great city was built. Often times destruction brings new life.... And many great and wonderful things...". The Black Angel smiled, his metaphor not going lost on her, and said "Well I'll just have to live long enough to survive the rebuilding....", and set about going over David's vision with him for possible clues into the killer psyche.


Last edited by The Black Angel on June 17th 2013, 10:38 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post by The Black Angel on May 7th 2013, 2:56 am

Community Area of Beverly, South Side of Chicago: The man known as the South Side Ripper had truly outdone himself tonight, as the idea that the police were able to protect the city, that Chicago's upper class citizens were protected by their high walls and security systems, and that he was done with his escalation were now smashed forever. He slipped past Chicago PD's vast network of checkpoints in Beverly easy enough, disguised as just another yuppie, wearing his moderately price button down shirt, his discounted polo cargo pants, and his hipster glasses, driving a stolen family sedan. This was enough to make the policemen walking beats, driving patrols, and manning checkpoints, that this "Normal" looking man belonged in this affluent neighborhood, and didn't need to be given anything more then a passing glace, because a "Normal" man certainly couldn't commit this horrific murders.

They were however cleverly betrayed by this mans "Normal" appearance, as he quickly ditched the stolen car, climbed over an ivy covered stone wall, and into a family's backyard. He began to feel that twinge of excitement he felt every time before he'd strike, fulfilling his life's work, and there bidding. He certainly felt better then he did when they told him about the mystic peering into his mind this morning, that nosy man working on behalf of a women no more innocent then him, and wished to put an end to the  "Festival of the Grotesque", which would be his summertime treat for the city of Chicago. He'd descend this city and it's people into the sort of fear and paranoia that he once felt, it was only fair after all, and life had a way of evening scores. As such, they found him, and in all due time showed him a different path then the mediocrity this world forced everyone to be, and showed him the path of true freedom, but not without some cost.....

The South Side Ripper slipped calmly across the perfectly manicured backyard, past the newly opened in ground heated pool, and slipped onto the back deck of this random house, which he selected due to its opulent decore. The soft sound of light music came from inside the house, drifting through an open window this fine spring evening. The South Side Ripper smiled as his victim came into sight. He felt better now, so much better.... The mystic would die in good time, and his friend soon after, for now he was focused on the young house wife who was busy cooking for a husband that was likely off screwing his secretary after a days work.

The Ripper quietly slipped up the steps, no small chore in the loafers he was wearing. He crouched below the window where the music was coming from, slowly reaching into his pocket and producing a small knife. Chicago thought they knew horror earlier in the morning, but the ripper truly wanted to explore the depths of horror in the mobs collective consciousness. If his demonstration with "Blondie" had gotten the peoples attention, this pretty, young housewife would shatter any perception of "Normal" they still had, and show the world what happens when one lives a life of greed, as he'd done with "Blondie". High walls, security systems, and the Chicago PD couldn't protect the greedy, just as they couldn't protect the lustful prostitutes who walked the cities streets. For all their money, jewels, fancy cars, and high priced electronics, nothing could protect them from his blade.

The Ripper moved closer to the door, sitting just on its left side, while he hoped beyond hope that the pretty brunette in a floral print dresses husband returned just in time to be number three.... Home was no longer a safe haven, it was as dangerous a place as the dark places people feared so much. They and the horrors they brought could strike when one least expected it, trapping them in the fires for all eternity, and it would be just a matter of time before this city knew the true meaning of horror.

The South Side Ripper opened the door wearing a friendly smile along with his business casual appearance, his knife clutched tightly in his right hand. The woman screamed loudly over the relaxing light music that was played, fear paralyzing the beautiful young trophy wife. The Ripper smiled, they loved it when someone screamed, the surprise of imminent death resounding like thunderous applause in there ears. He stepped towards the terrified woman, his smile becoming more devious as he softly said "I just want to change your mind....".

It was all over in just a few moments, as the Rippers skilled knife quickly dispatched his unlucky victim. The South Side Ripper then set about collecting the necessary body parts that they thought best illustrated greed, the mouth, tongue, and heart. Blood covered the kitchen floor, pouring from the Rippers young victim, whom he toss aside once he was finished. Just as he placed the needed body parts in a box he heard the garage door open, and knew his knife would know another victim on this night..........


Last edited by The Black Angel on June 17th 2013, 10:41 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post by The Black Angel on May 8th 2013, 1:48 pm

Community Area of Beverly, South Side of Chicago: The Black Angel entered the luxurious Beverly two story house from the garage, with Detective Zambrano taking the lead, as they made their way past a sea of medical examiners, uniformed and plain clothes police officers, as well as several FBI agents. The Ripper had struck in Beverly once again, and this time it was despite a huge Chicago PD presence in the south side neighborhood, and this time he killed a man and woman in their own home. When the Black Angel walked past the luxurious black Audi A8 parked in the garage, she could instantly smell the strong scent of blood, and turning the corner into the interior of the house it was clear why..... Two crumpled bodies sat in the kitchen, where the floor was covered in thick red blood.

Stepping into the kitchen first, Detective Zambrano said "Watch your step.... It's slick in here...", the Black Angel only nodded, still taking in the horrors that happened in this house sometime the previous night. The Detective walked over to two similarly dressed plain clothes officers, and began chatting with them quietly. While Zambrano was talking, the Black Angel walked over to the body of the male, which had it's jaw removed, revealing more of the Rippers butchery inside the mans mouth. The Black Angel quickly turned away, just as Zambrano said "Angel come here....", and motioned for her to join him and his two colleagues. Happy to get away from the foul smelling body, the Black Angel quickly joined the three detectives.

Once the Black Angel joined the three men, Detective Zambrano said "Gentlemen.... I'd like you to meet my friend Angel, she's recently moved to Chicago from NYC, but she's spent a great deal of time in the field.... I've called her in as a special adviser on this case... Angel this is Detective Holt and Detective Scarletto". The Black Angel smiled at the other two detectives, saying  "Hello, hopefully I can be of some help to you on this....". The older looking detective smiled and said "You're accents.... From New Zealand?", the Black Angel shook her head, saying "Hong Kong actually.... British father, Chinese mother...". The second detective smiled, saying "Beautiful mix, my son is half Chinese...", the Angel smiled and said "Thank you...", just as she noticed something in the corner of her eye.

Walking away from the three men, the Black Angel walked towards what appeared to be a small card taped underneath the wood table. The three detectives each gave each other looks of confusion as "Angel" had just suddenly walked off. Once she reached the card the Black Angel ripped off from under the table, and looked at the baseball card sized scaled down piece of artwork, which was clearly a black and white scene from hell. After looking at it a few moments, the Black Angel handed it to Zambrano and the other detectives, after a few moments Detective Holt said "What's this a drawing of hell??", the Black Angel quickly replied "It's a reproduction of an etching.... Scaled down of course.... They were created by Gustave Doré a hundred and fifty years ago, I'm familiar with his work.....". Detective Zambrano smiled, saying "Now you guys see why I called her in.... Holt dig up you can on Gustave Do.... Whatever the artist guy... The Ripper is trying to tell us something...", Holt nodded and started researching Gustave Doré on his IPhone.

The Black Angel meanwhile was busy analyzing the kitchen, what would connect these victims, the Ripper, and Doré. The Angel then remembered her friend David's warning that the Ripper was "Ancient Evil", and  then it clicked in her head.... David's warning, the victims, the Ripper, and Doré. "Zambrano how many prostitutes did the Ripper kill?" the Black Angel said aloud, "Six" Zambrano quickly replied. The Black Angel nodded and said "And he took their sexual organs... Which would be connected with the sin of lust....", to which Zambrano replied "Your point?". The Black Angel smiled, saying "Doré's work depicted Dante's Inferno.... And the hell that awaited those who committed the seven deadly sins.... The Ripper killed six prostitutes..... The number six in the bible represents imperfection. The number of “Beast” is 666 and is called “a man’s number,” indicating that it has to do with imperfect, fallen man, and it symbolizes the imperfection of that which is represented by “the beast..... So my guess.... That Ms.Knox.... These two... Whatever sin connects these three, will connect the Rippers next three victims...". Detective Zambrano smiled, as Detective Scarletto said "My god the bastards even crazier then we thought.....". The Black Angel nodded and said "Quite... Whatever is happening here though..... Their is a pattern, and this is the reason... We just need to find out what connects these last three....".

Detective Zambrano turned to the Black Angel, saying "See I knew their was a reason I called you in on this....", if only he knew how right he was.


Last edited by The Black Angel on June 17th 2013, 10:43 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post by The Black Angel on May 9th 2013, 11:55 am

The South Side Rippers Residence, Somewhere in Chicago: It was like he expected as he watched the evening news. The city was practically starting to shut down, weighed down by its own fear, drowning in its own guilt. Their was a steady stream of yuppie's from Beverly now leaving the city, the guilty clearly not having faith in the Chicago Police's ability to protect them from the error of their ways. He watched as the Mayor promised to "Bring the man known as the South Side Rippers reign of terror to an end.", and then fired the Chief of Police without ceremony or fanfare. The Ripper chuckled as he watched the new Chief sworn in, killing six prostitutes meant nothing, killing three upper middle class swindlers meant firing a chief, paralyzing a city in fear, and causing an exodus from the South Sides most affluent neighborhood.

Ultimately, this was the best he'd felt in some time, they were beyond thrilled with him, he had the city run, and it would only be a matter of time before they understood what he already knew.... That there was something greater fear... There was the eternal grayness of man, the pointlessness of their meaningless lives, which was spent glued to their Facebook. The people in this city lived self-righteous, self-absorbed meaningless lives, that said very much, but ultimately did nothing. He figured it was no coincidence that the most educated countries had the highest suicide rates in this dim, shallow world. He was sure this was because they understood the pointlessness of the modern man, their all failings being they did not have them to guide them.

It was this last point that truly separated him from the rest, their work from the rest, and truly made him the next evolution of man. Uncaring, yet purpose driven, living for something beyond the scope of his cellphone. On some level he couldn't really blame modern man, in the digital age who truly had a unique, independent thought? Soon he would show them, he would show everyone in this city that there was so much more then fear.

The Ripper sat up from his custom leather chair, shutting off the TV, and turned to walk towards his refrigerator. He walked into the kitchen, open his refrigerator, and pushed aside several jars filled with human organs, which were in the process of being preserved. They would be his forever, epitaphs for their victory over the City of Chicago, modern man, and this worlds social order. For now however, he was simply thirsty, and he poured himself a glass of water.

They were going out again tonight, and they'd claim another, maybe ever two more sacrificial lambs. The city was bending, but it would be awhile before it broke, at which point they'd have their victory. When the police were no longer capable of walking the streets, when mayor was sacked in his office, and when the people cried out for mercy, they'd have their victory.

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Post by The Black Angel on May 12th 2013, 1:11 am

Community Area of Beverly, South Side of Chicago: The South Side Ripper had struck again, that much was apparent to the Black Angel, Detective Zambrano,  Detective Holt, and Detective Scarletto as they stood looking at a middle aged white male, who had been killed in the similar fashion as the other victims from Beverly, only this time the victim was also hanging from a noose. After several moments of shock at the scene before them, Detective Scarletto sarcastically said "Well I don't think this poor bastard ripped his mouth off and hung himself..." in his working class Chicago accent. Detective Holt was focused on the massive pool of blood beneath the Rippers latest victim, a banker named Edward Santo who'd moved to Chicago only two years previously.

Detective Scarletto turned to Detective Zambrano and said "The noose is new.....", Detective Zambrano nodded, saying "Find what you can that links Mr. Santo to the rest of the Rippers victims... Perhaps we can find out whatever these people did in his fucked up head to warrant this...". Detective Scarletto nodded, but stopped as he turned to walkaway, as the Black Angel said "Won't be necessary Detective Scarletto.... The Rippers told us something with this killing...". Detective Zambrano looked at his friend and said "And what's that?". The Black Angel then calmly said in her almost British sounding accent "The fact he used a noose..... In Dante's hell avarice, or greed is connected with hanging.... The noose in Dante's world symbolizes Judas Iscariot's betraying of Jesus for a few coins. So what connects all of these people is.... Greed.... Seeing as the Ripper is basing his killings along the seven deadly sins, which Dante details in great length in his inferno.". The three detectives all sighed at the notion that yet again, the South Side Ripper was killing seemingly at random, based on sins these people may or may not have committed.

The Black Angel seemed deep in thought, and after a moment she said "What I want to know most is why is he taking organs.... There has to be something behind it... Perhaps it's a cult?", the Angel remembering her friend Davids warning. Detective Holt then said "Who the fuck knows.... Caught a guy once when I was still with metro.... Mother fucker killed a guy, ripped his face off, put it on, and tried to buy a burger... He couldn't see because of all the blood, and he fucking wrapped his car around telephone pole... Ask him why he did it... He looked me straight in the face and said the dead people he dances with in his dreams told him to do it.. Fuckers like this, their crazy.... You can look and look, but you won't find anything that makes sense....". With that Detective Holt stormed out of the room, Detective Scarletto then said "I'll bring him back..." and headed off after Holt.

The Black Angel looked at Detective Zambrano and said "Well what do you think???", Zambrano only shook his head. He walked over to the mans body, gazing upon the precisely cut, gaping hole in the mans mouth. The Detective sighed, saying "He's crazy.... The Ripper.... But he's got us all chasing a ghost....Maybe you're right? I'll have Holt look into a possible link to a cult once he calms down...", the Black Angel nodded and said "Worth a look... He's taking organs for a reason, if nothing else it should give us a look into his psyche.", Detective Zambrano sighed, saying "Sure that's a place you want to go??". The Black Angel chuckled, saying "Don't have a choice... You brought me in on this...". Detective Zambrano chuckled, saying "I suppose you're right...".

As the two walked away from the hanging man, who was being photographed by forensics, Detective Zambrano noticed a smear of red which led under an expensive looking oriental rug. The Black Angel followed Detective Zambrano's eyes and the two instantly bent over, Zambrano taking out his flash light, following the trail of blood under the rug. The Black Angel then said "Do I even want to know what's under here??", Detective Zambrano smugly said "Well I brought you into this...", and the two quickly rolled the rug back, revealing several lines written in the victims blood.

" I've waited for you to come
I've been here all alone
now that you've arrived
please stay a while
and I promise I won't keep you long
I'll keep you forever"

As Detective Zambrano and the Black Angel read the written lines, Detective Holt and Scarletto came back into the room. As both detectives also began reading the lines, Detective Holt said "See just another fucking wacko.... Nothing to understand...". The Black Angel shook her head, saying "He's collecting them.... So a piece of every victim will live in this..... World he's created.... In his head...". Detective Scarletto shook his head, saying "And what kind of world do you think that is Angel?", the Angel sighed and softly said "A different one....".


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Post by The Black Angel on June 5th 2013, 11:36 am

Apartment of David Murphy, Downtown Chicago, Chi-Town: The world renown mystic and seer David Murphy was up late, making a pot of hot mint tea. He'd had trouble sleeping lately since he was visited by the Black Angel, his glimpse into her mind, which led to the South Side Rippers was haunting him this night, as it had every night since it happened. The seer was worried about his friend, worried about what she'd stumbled onto, as the occult was his specialty, and he'd already seen enough to know there were dark forces at work here. The last few days, he'd kept an ear on the local news, while keeping his eyes in his collection of priceless works on the darker side of the occult. Of most interest, a first edition, 14th century work on possession by an unnamed friar, which had mostly flown under the radar of scholars, but not someone like David.

In the books tattered, worn pages, written in a reddish ink that could only be the friar's own blood (Likely used as a penance), David believed he'd found his answer to who, or what the South Side Ripper truly was. He'd only been offered a glimpse into the Rippers mind, but from what he could tell, it was evil not of this world, but someplace far more dark, and the friar's words only made him more sure of this fact. The passage "The demons can sit in your head and give you unholy thoughts and feelings to manipulate you to do what they want, occasionally the demon tries to add a little more of their personality into the host body, like parasites.", stuck out to David the most, as it confirmed what he'd already felt, that the Ripper was simply some poor trapped soul, and whatever had taken him over, was from some evil place entirely. David wasn't sure what he believed in, often times he was sure their was a divine good place, if it was called heaven or not was up for debate, and he most certainly felt their was an cosmic force of evil as well, as life seemed to balance itself in all things.

The troubled man exhaled deeply, as his tea came to boil, the low whistle filling the apartment, as David quickly took it off the burner. He poured himself a cup of the fine mint tea, imported from somewhere in the east, and took a small sip. He looked around his massive penthouse, filled with relics from the holy land, artwork from Tibet, pottery from Central America, scrolls from Egypt, countless first editions of priceless works, and millions of dollars more of priceless artifacts. Collecting these rare items, most of which had ties to the occult, was David's life's work, and had taken him quite literally around the world, to hundreds of amazing and unique places.

As David strode past a 15th century lithograph of Satan, he began to seriously think about the situation he'd found himself, or more importantly the Black Angel had found herself in. He'd glimpsed into her mind, even though he'd somehow strayed into the Rippers, and perhaps that was why he'd nearly forgotten that he'd seen what had happened when she'd awoken from a coma, the blinding white light, the booming voice denying her entrance into the next life, and saying "Go back, remake your life, live for something bigger then life's meaningless possessions, avenge those that have suffered at the hands of the greedy, the corrupt. In becoming a weapon for good, an instrument of justice, help the helpless, protect the weak, and perhaps in time you will join your mother in paradise.", and suddenly it was all starting to make sense for the middle aged seer.

The world as far as David could see it, was a pendulum, with two conflicting forces vying for balance, one was most certainly evil, and the other good. When great evil arises, there is always good that meets it, one of life's great games he guessed, going back millennia, and as chance would have it he'd found himself caught up in this great game. David returned to his desk, then began writing a letter to his friend, the Black Angel, which he knew she'd find in the event of his death, which he was starting to believe was inevitable, as he knew the Ripper and whatever possessed him had known of his presence within the Rippers own private hell. This great game, might not have been fought between entities named God, Jesus, and the Devil, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. In this world it was undeniable that good and evil existed, so it was wrong to say that they don't exist on a higher plain of being.

As David put the finishing touches on the letter, the outside door crashed open, and David slowly looked up, knowing he was being confronted by none other then the Ripper. As the middle aged, white male walked forward, David said "I've been expecting you Ripper.... Now tell me.... What is your real name demon?". The Ripper slowly walked in, taking in his new surrounding's, then softly said "The Egyptian's called me Ammit, the devourer and soul-eater,  Jews call me Behemoth.... Christian's.... They call me Beelzebub one of the seven princes of hell.... But the truth is I'm something entirely different... I'm the Lord of the Flies....". David glumly nodded, saying "Well Lord of the Flies.... Just be done with it quickly, and be on your way....". The Ripper only shook his head, a callous smile appearing across his face as he said "Ohhhh no.... We'll be having a lot more fun then that tonight, not that you'll have much.".

David grasped the cup of hot tea in his hand, then with one great cry launched it at the Ripper, as he charged the now drenched in scalding liquid man. The two wrestled around ironically enough on a Russian rug depicting the "Harrowing of Hell". A few moments later it was all over, a knife entering the world renown seers vitals, rendering him lifeless a few seconds later. It was then that the Rippers work began, carving mystic David Murphy as another one of his victims....

Perhaps most importantly however, the letter David had managed to keep safe on his desk remained hidden, and with his dying thought, he hoped for nothing more then the Black Angel would find it.


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Post by The Black Angel on June 6th 2013, 5:18 pm

Apartment of David Murphy, Downtown Chicago, Chi-Town: The Black Angel sped towards Downtown Chicago in her Black Land Rover, after receiving the disturbing call from Detective Zambrano to meet her at her friend seer David Murphy's house. The last few weeks, anytime Zambrano called it meant another grizzly murder, and she could hardly bare to think that she was in some part responsible for the Ripper getting to David. The ride through busy Chicago traffic seemed like it took mere minutes for the Black Angel, whose mind was elsewhere, seemingly thinking of everything, and nothing at the same time. Whatever she was thinking, all she knew was she'd never forgive herself if the Ripper had gotten to David because she dragged him into this freak show.

Pulling up to David's posh downtown penthouse, the Black Angels worst fears were realized, as a small army of marked Chicago PD vehicles only meant one thing..... David was dead, found somehow by the Ripper, whose private hell David had glimpsed into, costing him his life. Slowly opening the door to the outside world, the Black Angel was immediately hit with the sounds of a crime scene, sirens, radios, people racing about, and shouts. She shut her car door, then slowly made her way towards the door, walking with a single minded, tunnel vision stride, her mind solely focused on what lay beyond the doors.

Standing with Detective Holt and Detective Scarletto, Detective Zambrano noticed the Black Angel coming in, and seeing she was clearly broken up, he moved towards the Black Angel, as Detective Holt and Scarletto exchanged concerned looks. As the Black Angels hand moved to open the door, Detective Zambrano called out for the Angel, saying "Angel! Wait.... Don't go in there yet....". Ignoring Zambrano, the Black Angel opened the door, and was immediately hit with the foul smell of death, which was the same from the battlefields of Asia, an industrial accident in Germany, to a murder on the streets of Chicago. The Black Angel sighed heavily, saying "Ohhhh David....", as Zambrano came behind her, the muscular detective placing his hands on her shoulders, saying "I wanted to warn you before you came in.....", the Black Angel stepped forward into the apartment, saying "It's all my fault... I shouldn't have involved in this....".

Detective Zambrano gave the Black Angel space, as he motioned for  Detective Holt and Detective Scarletto to stay outside, as both tried to get into the penthouse. The Black Angel slowly made her way towards David's body, recoiling in shock as she looked down at her butchered friend. Wasting little time, and acting instinctively, Zambrano hugged the Black Angel, as she sniffled a few tears, as she fought hard to keep them from coming. Zambrano then softly said "It's not your fault.... It's his, and his alone.... You didn't do this.... The Ripper did....", the Black Angel shook her head, saying "He looked into my mind... And somehow he was able to see into the Rippers mind from me.... It's my fault...". Zambrano held the Black Angels head in his arms, saying "And maybe David sacrificed himself to break this case open???", the Black Angels ears perked, as she looked at Zambrano, saying "What do you mean??", Zambrano handed the Black Angel a letter, saying "You're going to want to read this....". The Black Angel slowly nodded, taking the letter carefully in her hands, then putting in her coat pocket.

Just then her eyes caught one of David's many centuries old rugs, which was stitched with a mosaic of an Orthodox Icon, depicting hell. On it, written in blood, was the words

"Simple smiles elude psychotic eyes
Lose all mind control rationale declines
Empty eyes enslave the creations
Of placid faces and lifeless pageants

Dance with the dead in my dreams
Listen to their hollowed screams
The dead have taken my soul
Temptation's lost all control"

This sent the Black Angels mind racing, as she remembered something Detective Holt had said about a previous case. She looked at Zambrano and said "Get Holt in here....", Detective Zambrano nodded, then radioed for Detective Holt to come into the penthouse. Detective Holt came in a few moments later, and the Black Angel quickly asked him "What was it you said that man said to you? The one who killed the man and wore his face?". Detective Holt thought for a second, then slowly said "He said.... The dead people he dances with in his dreams told him to do it..", both men then turned their attention to the rug, which bore a similar statement. The Black Angel then said "And did this man say he was possessed? Or perhaps even give a name of what demon was possessing him??", Holt slowly nodded, softly saying "The Lord of the Flies....", the Black Angel then softly whispered  "Beelzebub...... This is worse then I thought.....".

Turning her attention to Detective Zambrano, the Black Angel said "With David gone..... And the Ripper still needing another victim to make six for Greed.... I'm pretty sure who the Rippers next target is going to be....", Zambrano shook his head, saying "Who....". The Black Angel thought back on all her dirty deeds done in the pursuit of money in past, then softly said "Me.....". Zambrano nodded, saying "We'll put you under twenty four hour protection..... You can get out of here right away.....". The Black Angel sighed, shaking her head, saying "I'm getting out of here.... But I'm not hiding.....", Holt then inquired, saying "Then what are you going to do??", the Black Angel then unholstered one of her Glock 9mm's, saying "Get revenge.....". Holt then chuckled, saying "Come on.... That guy is still locked up.... These aren't connected... This isn't the devil.... This is just another psycho on Chicago's streets....". The Black Angel nodded, saying "Maybe it isn't the Devil.... But you don't believe in ancient evil", Holt shook his head, to which the Black Angel simply said "Well it  believes in you.....", as she began walking out of the penthouse, still clutching David's letter.

Detective Zambrano, leaving Detective Holt in intense contemplation went after the Black Angel, saying "Come on.... Take our protection....". Stopping in her tracks, and looking out into the dark Chicago night, the Black Angel said "Have you ever considered suicide?", to which Zambrano in a surprised tone said "No, maybe if my situation changed... But it never seemed respectable.... Why?". The Black Angel still looking off into the night said "I'll tell you one thing.... You won't mind dying once you've peeked over into the other side... No more then you mind going to work...". Detective Zambrano sighed, softly saying "You won't reconsider??", as the Black Angel shook her head, then slipped into her SUV.

Driving away from the crime scene, the Black Angel did something she hadn't in as long as she could remember..... She sobbed.... The tears coming like a waterfall, descending onto the neatly cleaned leather seats. The Black Angel pulled across three lanes of busy Downtown Chicago traffic, as she spotted a bar to the right, the cars all honking and slamming on their brakes. Composing herself, as her hands began to stop trembling, she stepped out of her SUV once again, entering the drab, forgettable looking bar. As the doors swung open, all eyes were on the Angel, who made her way to the bar, head down, saying simply "Whiskey.....Two shots....". The bartender then asked "What kind?", as the Black Angel quickly snapped "Does it look like I give a fuck??".

With that the bartender set about getting her drinks, as she descended into her coat to find the letter Detective Zambrano had given to her. Opening it on the bar with much caution, she slowly began to read David's last words to her....

"Hello Jennifer,

If you're reading this, I'm unfortunately no longer living.... Pity for me, as I won't be able to see the new Star Wars movie being released... In all seriousness though, do not blame yourself for my death, as I know you will have the tendency to do. My gift has been my curse, as I'm able to see what others can not, only their is no telling what I may see or the ramifications... I suppose this was merely just a matter of time....

More importantly you need to focus on the role you've been given by whatever cosmic force of good drives this world. As I've always believed, you must to.... You must understand that as their is great evil in this world, so to is their good to fight it. Jennifer, I am convinced you are that force of good to fight the Ripper. Don't sell yourself short, don't underestimate yourself, and understand what you've been chosen for, has been done by a force much higher then either of us can conceive...

As this force of good however, the burden of killing the Ripper has fallen to you.... You most stop him.... If you do not, this sick game will simply go on and on, until whoever the unfortunate soul who's possessed simply expires... Releasing the Demon back into hell.... Leaving who knows how many more dead.... This you must avoid....

I'm sorry I can be of more help....

You're Friend,

David"

The Black Angel fought back a wave of emotions, just as she noticed a familiar face sit beside her....

..........................

The South Side Rippers Residence, Somewhere in Chicago: The Ripper was mad with rage, as he tore through the contents of his refrigerator, smashing glass wear on the floor, picking up whatever human remains were inside of them, and devouring them as a rabid animal does. From his mouth, in between bites of human flesh, came a demonic voice saying "The worm has consumed the boy..... Prick your finger it is done.... The moon has now eclipsed the sun..... The Ethos has spread its wings.... The time has come for biter things....".

When the last of the organs disappeared, the Ripper fell to the ground, shaking wildly on the tile floor, then falling lifeless. Moments turned to minutes, which turned to an hour, then after sixty minutes, a cry of pure evil came from the Rippers body, as he began contorting in a unhuman manner, before he began ripping and clawing his skin off, which was simply a cover to something else.... An ancient evil that was now reborn onto this Earth.....


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Post by Saileyra on June 6th 2013, 7:59 pm

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." --Isaiah 41:10

O.C.E.A.N had many consorts and informants as some would like to call it. Petty thieves got off easy when it came to this organization of ‘heroes’. Really, none of them were heroes all of them knew it. All the people within O.C.E.A.N were either purposeless, driven to make good in the world without considering the law. All of them didn’t want to kill innocent people; of course, their reputation ran like blood for hurting civilians. When it came down to the fine line if she had to shoot a hostage in the knee to get to the head of an evil man she would, without a doubt. As the founder and leader she did not want her operatives to kill unless absolutely necessary. Of course, their standards of necessary meant no fuck ups, which sometimes left to a difficult ultimatum. But, she did not want none of them to intentionally shoot a innocent man in the head. It was unnecessary and unjust, hell, if someone was in the way, shoot them in the ankle move away from them.

Do what you can even if you can only do so much. Within the lethargy of all the hell she had heard through the grapevine she knew some would not agree and some would do all they could to end it. These people weren’t her enemy, not at all, they were the ones that wanted to end what could justify what ends meant. Bringing neutrality across the surface if an large baddie would surmise. Did that mean she was going to change the way they functioned and ultimately ran? Hell no, judgemental fools, they didn’t know anything even if within people thought it made them no different, they were, they wouldn’t rape, they would not try to take over the world, they would not level an entire city for fun.

Recently, she had come across a lot of money in this world, doing odd jobs, doing major political movements. It was not something she wanted to get involved in but it got her well established and very well kept. It got her into the multi-billions, sad to say, she was a fucking rich woman now. When she came into this world, it was the clothes on her back and her single weapon. She’d met many people along the way and together they made OCEAN, a force from her home world, that she altered here. Selfish at first she made it to have a family here on this world. Although, that was a secret that no one would know each of them represented home some way. Reminded her of the people at home, of course, eventually she became too involved and established.

A perfectionist in her own rite despite being stripped down to nothing without all her powers and weapons. Hell, when she came to this world she was crash landing into Mikona’s catch, her wings didn’t work here, she was a fucking ornament. What brought here? That little leech, Siloh Diaz, he was a Spanish crooked drug dealer, played tricks, did some black market dealings for stolen organs and shit. After coming across how a whole city felt terrorized by one man, she felt it was time for her to personally investigate. After running a few leads through the Chicago DA and pulling some old case files. None of them had gone cold, but a cop with a nice bribe had let her see it. Detective Holt was his name? Something like that, he didn’t lose hope in the case, but he seemed desperate for some good help and after a couple bucks he broke loose gave her a couple case files.

Siloh on the other hand was a great informant, when they had met, he had given her details of a white male whom had claimed to have extra body parts. Needed the cash, apparently, the Ripper had used some of the other missing body parts for extra cash. No surprise there, Siloh, apparently was the cross-dealer between the exchanges. Taking the body parts as the grunt to the hospitals for illegal transplants. But hey, money is money and even doctors sometimes had the grip on the leisure of just putting an organ with the same blood type into another person when the match was right, even if the means weren’t exactly correct.

Siloh given her information, his grin curled as he had said this, her memory played it out over and over, ‘The man kept talking about how the devil wanted him to do it. How I was such a good boy, how Satan loved me. He wanted me to keep doing what I was doing because I would feel the devils embrace when I died. Sounded lika’ crack of shit to me. I suggest stayin’ away from the guy, he’s nuts.’ At least she got a rough idea, but it wasn’t enough to take a bite into the entirety of the situation. The cop didn’t tell her anything, nor did he give her details on his own experiences with the cases. He handed her file copies and told her to get the fuck out, even if some shred of hope appeared in his eyes.

That was this morning; everything seemed to stop dead this after noon as she had interviewed other informants other than Siloh the guy was pretty careful about keeping his tracks closed. The only reason she had found Siloh was through medical records, everything led to him for some odd reason it was just luck. Even if the Ripper had not disclosed his name, location, at least she got an idea of what he did. Collect body parts, the victims were whores, at least the first two she had. The cop didn’t give her much to work with on the copies, hell if she only found someone who could help her on this nutcase.

She wanted him bagged and dead, he was a threat to society, human or not. OCEAN did not discriminate. Licking her lips, she looked about the bar she was currently in finishing reminiscing over current events. It was a long day, maybe..flipping through the files, the bartender looked over here. “That’s some pretty morbid shit ya’ lookin’ at sweet heart.” He said to her, his voice deep, gruff as he spoke to her. Saileyra’s magenta eyes raised in his direction as she shrugged, “It’s nothing the public hasn’t seen before no?” He nodded, “Sadly those women was closed on the press a long time ago. Are you a writer or somethin’? Trying to find inspiration for a horror story?” He said with a slight accent, New York almost, it made her wonder why he was so far from home. Then again..she was too, it made her relate with the male her eyes staring. “You can say something like that. Mind getting me a rum and coke?” He nodded, “Good luck with ya’ story sweet heart.” He said, his fingers preparing the glass as he had filled it his hands working with ease as he topped the rum off with coke, “Not a lot of mention The Ripper no more, he’s not old news, people seem to be to scared.”

Of course, Saileyra only nodded, the bartender walking away helping another woman his hands working the glass sending it in her direction as she noticed the other woman. Black Angel, she was interesting, she had encountered her before. Although, they did not exchange many words when her friend had confronted her. Not that he could have been a friend she could not say for sure, but she had been right across from her. They had never met before, on a one on one basis. It was nothing peculiar~ Something in her told her to spark a conversation, hell, the chick was staring at her with dough eyes she might as well had said something.

Taking a good gulp, she placed the glass down on the cool bar top her body turning to face her as she placed a hand on her cheek her elbow near the open files, some pictures scattered of course it was an open view. The police papers on the other hand were tucked away turned over with more peculiar details she would not review in the public. Those pictures? They were disclosed all through the press and even stretched across the Internet. Either Black Angel thought she was a sick fuck or was interested in the same case. Apparently, the bartender thought she was some writer trying to find inspiration. Wither or not what she thought, her elbow was carefully placed, police numbers lined across that curved jacket.

“What’s up? Aren’t you that chick that had been with that one guy who interrogated me? At least it seemed like it.” She said friendly like, her voice warm, her eyes showing genuine interest. They were a deep magenta sparkled with deep reds as she smirked in her direction. Maybe tonight would turn around, maybe, she didn’t know but at least there was something to take her mind off the bullshit someone she was..well, not familiar with, but she had at least seen before. It was a slight hit in the ball park, far field, something okay..not to special, but maybe a possible friendship? She couldn’t be like her friend..at least she hoped, she gave almost everyone a chance, just one.

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Post by The Black Angel on June 6th 2013, 11:31 pm

The Black Angel smiled at Saileyra, though she didn't catch her name from their run in LA, happy to at least have something or someone to take her attention of the nights earlier occurrence. Just as she was about to speak, the bartender reappeared with the two shots, which the Black Angel quickly paid for, producing a twenty dollar bill from her brown leather jacket, and saying "Keep the change...." to the middle aged barkeep. Turning back to the mysterious woman from LA, that she kept bumping in to, the Black Angel said "Cheers....", and quickly pounded the first shot.

Scowling from the hard bite of the dark Tennessee liquor, the Black Angel waited a moment to speak, before saying "We're friends.... I happened to just be passing through in town, saw both of you outside the bank, small world kind of thing I suppose...". The Black Angel then made short work of the second shot, quickly ordering two more as she loudly crashed the shot glass on the counter, saying "Two more....". As she produced another twenty from her jacket, a wave of suspicion cross the Black Angels mind, as she didn't believe in coincidence anymore, and half expected the woman from LA to be a Triad assassin. However she quickly reasoned with herself, that if she'd been an assassin, she likely would have simply engaged her, and after all it seemed she'd run into this woman once again... Not the other way around. Not believing in chance, the Black Angel began wondering what role this woman had to play in things, as she knew how big of a world it was, certainly to big to run into someone twice without some sort of reason or design.

A little more at ease, the Black Angel said "I'm the Black Angel.... I didn't catch your name in LA.... I'm sorry.....", as she reached into her black cargo pants, grabbing a pack of cigarettes, from which she took one and lit it. Exhaling deeply, the Black Angel glanced towards Saileyra again, noticing in detail the pictures in front of her, she'd immediately recognized them as some of the same pictures she'd stared at over and over again on a nightly basis as of late. The Black Angel chuckled as the two other shots came her way, the Black Angel picking the first one up with her nicely manicured, black tipped fingers, putting the cold glass to her lips, letting the warm liquid into her body once again.

Placing the shot glass down, and taking another drag, the Black Angel said "Don't suppose you're in town to find the Ripper??? That...... Would be a real coincidence...." in a half sarcastic tone. After taking another drag, the Black Angel said "Well you're in luck..... I'm expecting the Ripper.... And don't worry he's not going to live long enough to see the morning light.... Perhaps I've saved you a step in your journey?", as she disposed of the final shot. In her mind, the Black Angel began to realize this woman was likely place along her path to aide her with the Ripper, though after he'd killed David, this had become far to personnel for her to take much outside help when taking the Ripper down.

If her interest in the Ripper case was unhealthy before, it was downright an addiction at this point, perhaps the only thing that gave her a reason to rise out of bed. Black Angel had been drinking heavily as of late, perhaps due to the fact she felt like she was without purpose, a relic to a bygone era, kept around only to collect dust. She began to wonder what would happen to her once she killed the Ripper, feeling the same horrible, empty feeling when revenge isn't as sweet as the pursuit of it. Whatever the case it didn't help matters that she believed she'd gotten David killed, was feeling low as it is, and was living in a drinking town like Chicago. Though she slammed four shots down in quick succession, she felt only a slight oncoming buzz, just enough to make her feel a little less hunted by the boogie man she knew was coming after her.

................................................................

Downtown Chicago, Chi-Town: Lights dimmed ever so slightly as a dark shadow passed down street after street, as a cold wind followed the dimming light across Chicago. Le Pig had arrived, manifesting himself himself at long last, the man whose body he had inhabited becoming no more, merely the vessel he'd traveled through. With this Emperor of the Fallen One's arrival came a heightened sense of things for him, no longer having to rely on the confines of a mortal body, he could shape shift from a shadow, into his true form, he could use his many spies to pinpoint the location of his next victim, whom he'd had a special longing to meet. There was just something about killing one of the divine beings "Chosen Ones" which brought a smile to his face, and this one would be no different.

Traveling as a speeding shadow, a wraith, Le Pigs formless body twisted and turned over the Chicago night sky, he was free from the mortal bounds of his host, and now he was free to to dispense of the greedy soldier much in the same way as he dispensed her friend. Floating over an abandoned warehouse, Le Pig quickly transformed from a black mist into his massively muscled, near Boar form. Making his way to the ledge, he sniffed into the air with his great nose, sensing that the soldier wasn't far away, and he only need catch her, and then who would stop him as the Ethos watched helplessly as another city burned...


Last edited by The Black Angel on June 17th 2013, 11:27 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post by Saileyra on June 7th 2013, 10:09 pm

The bartender came back over, the New Yorker male abandoned from his home. It was a small time bar, not many people she had noticed. Gazing over her shoulder she took in her surroundings, analyzing, the floors were simple not too much off the wall. Hell, the floors were wooden and probably hadn’t been buffed for a good few years, but she took note of every window. Every ceiling fan, potiential weapons of pool sticks and other chairs. God only knew if someone was going to follow her here and give her a hard time. There were countless people she could count off the top of her head that could ruin her fucking night. I’d feel sorry for the fucker who did.. Glancing over to the other female, she noticed the shots line up. The bartender glanced to her also, “Wanna’ glass ‘ey?” She nodded, “I can keep up.” She said with a competitive grin.

So the shots were given~! The bartender was a skilled man at that he shook double the shots for each of them. It was kind of amusing to watch, this was never something she would never see at home. People could have four arms sometimes and usually they took the heft job of bartender. To see a man with such grace and fluidity of what he did. Part of her wanted him to work at a better establishment do bigger things than this sideshow but sometimes things never fucking worked out that way. Shaker split, glass, drink- pretty simple combination but the guy made it effective. With the first shot in hand with the other female she pretty much dumped it back. But the chances of her getting drunk in this world may have been greater but still took a very fucking long time. “Cheers.” She said in time with the women, giving her a sense of chill. Hell, why not? Today was an evening that she had nothing better to do and she was crunching lead all day and fucking got nowhere.

Little did she know, her information vat had walked right into her lap, but small conversation was always tedious it was always the first steps to how someone reacted to you. Of course, she had whiskey; it was deep eerie and burned on the way down. “Kids lucky I’m not no sicko who wants to level buildings.” She said laughing, “Even if he judged me some it didn’t bother me much. I guess I do look suspicious eh?” She said, her elbow coming to fall as her eyes turned to face the other female. Black outfit that seemed to look like leather, but it wasn’t graphene spider-silk. It was a deep black, the whole thing meeting some badass x-clipped boots, which met two x-belts on her hips. The woman had meet a terminator look of course she could afford to buy out this whole fucking bar if she wanted to but she didn’t want to show off. Reaching into her pocket she provided a solid fifty, enough to cover what she would she would be drinking realistically either little too less or more for the night.

The bartender taking the money without hesitation provided both women with shots, knowing they would be there for a while talking about..whatever they talked about. Of course, these two looked like the type he wouldn’t want in the same room together. Saileyra observed the glasses building on the right side, how she could use it in someones eyes..if they attacked that was. She was being predate, too paranoid, but no one ever knew. She grew up in a place where she had to survive, her home world was nothing but war, to be here where things were so calm..so serene. It was different, hearing the other woman speak next to her who borne the glass to her lips she only tilted her head in return listening. She only smirked, that didn’t bother her any, and she didn’t have to apologize for not knowing her name.

“Considering the circumstance it’s no big deal, we were all ready to ream the fuck out of each others faces.” She said, her voice humorous, “Interesting how paths cross each other?” She said, her voice wandering over the topic as she gathered the moment to place the pictures evenly inside the folder. There was no use to muse in it any longer, now that the alcohol was running through her system her skin felt slightly warm. Although, as soon as it had came it had frothed out of her blood stream thanks to some hyper regeneration eternally. At least when it came to alcohol, she can’t say if someone broke her bones..at least not here. Considering the circumstance at least she found a female she found similar in some ways. Both of them seemed to be the combative type, but then again who was she to judge? You never knew until you opened the book, maybe she’d spar her one day…

Noticing the woman took notice to the picture she was tucking away, those magenta eyes snapped to her. Those gentle pinks took a serious red hue, almost mingled with the purples as she scanned the other. Those silver-ringed iris’s seemed to now glow in the dark as she had stared at her. Exotic-cat shaped eyes almost stared into her soul, but it was a stare of someone who was driven. Obsessed? No, but fucking driven for destruction a killers eye none the less as she turned completely leaving the pictures half removed or scrawled about. “Now would it?” She returned in a sarcastic tone biting into this conversation like a juicy apple. “Apparently were both meeting here for more than one reason tonight.”

In the quiet, Black Angel’s lips uttered the man would not live to see the day. So they both had the direct same interests. She wasn’t going to do this without someone at her side, the guy was mad, even if she did not know the details about his deaths or the Christian cycle in it. Which she could have figured out eventually, she knew the guy was a whackjob who fucking collected organs. Terrorizing a whole city and now he got OCEAN’s Attention. Not just the organization, he got the founder’s attention. There was no way in hell one man was going to walk away and she knew that two of them were at better odds. Whatever this guy had in store both woman could do it better than one alone.

“Then were both on the same grounds. I’m here to end his life as well.” She said taking her own final shot, the glass gone within moments. Her fingers coming to rest betwixt her legs her upper body leaning on her knees as she stared at the other female. “I am the commander of the organization OCEAN. We end people like this man from the face of the earth. Those who threat cities, the balance, they need to die. I am here to do just that. I believe in brothers and sisters in arms, perhaps we can aid each other in this battle. He may not be as simple as a fighter, he may have changed, those with patterns looking for power surmise to it, no?” Despite the educated speech, she was fucking smart, knew people and she was not going to let this one walk away without a fight. Placing her hands on her knees she’d stare at the other woman wondering her reaction. If she’d take to it, hell, it could mark a great friendship between them both. Wether or not she wanted her help, she was still going to follow her. She had training, she was a soldier, she knew how to follow someone in the shadows of their footsteps if she really fucking had to. Not that she wanted too..

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Post by The Black Angel on June 9th 2013, 4:58 am

As Saileyra said  “Apparently were both meeting here for more than one reason tonight.” and “Then were both on the same grounds. I’m here to end his life as well.”, the Black Angel simply nodded, as she was taking in her surroundings, as if readying herself for an attack she felt was imminent. The drab bar, was certainly not big on appearances, clearly built to simply quench the thirst of the local blue collar workers. It was a throw back to the speak easy's that dominated Chicago in the prohibition era United States, which embedded the image of the Chicago gangster on the nations consciousness in the 1930's. Prohibition era crime in Chicago truly cementing Chicago's reputation as a hub for crime, both petty and more severe, which lasted up until the present day, attracting the seedy types one would expect throughout the city.

Nevertheless, the Black Angel was happy she'd come to a place that was bigger on drinking then "Broski's trying to score....", as she wasn't in the mood to get hit on, and from the looks of it neither was Saileyra. So she was certainly happy she didn't stumble into a bar frequented by college frat boys, wannabe rock stars, and all deuce bags in between. It wasn't that she didn't like the company of men, just not men like that.... It was in this moment that she truly missed Katsumi, and wished he was here, even though he was likely just another person who'd be hurt from getting to close to her...

The Black Angel's mind drifted to the Lord of the Flies, especially as to how she'd be able to defeat this particular monstrosity, who she knew was coming for her. At best she figured her Glock's would do the trick, at worst..... Well she'd cross that bridge as it came. For now she planned what she'd do if this mysterious "Saileyra" attacked her, or if the Lord of the Flies made a surprise cameo appearance. A nearby pool table would be easy to flip, making good cover for the Black Angel to operate behind, as she'd take a defensive stance at the start of whatever hypothetical attack might be launched against her. The window near the restrooms would make for a good exit, should things get to hot inside the bar.

Shaking her head, and snapping back into the moment and the conversation with the exotic looking operative she'd met previously in Los Angeles, the Black Angel said "Funny running into you again, especially seeing as we're both after the same man.... This town can get to small I swear.....". After taking a final drag from the remnants of her cigarette, the Black Angel smiled and said "The Rippers made the world news I guess....". Then sighed, saying "I'm afraid he's a bit more then you're expecting..... Not some simple psycho with a knife.... Rather a bit more I'm afraid...." with her upper crust English/Hong Kong accent. Looking down, she distantly said "I believe the Ripper, is possessed, likely by the Lord of the Flies whose not of this world.... I wouldn't recommend getting mixed up in this if you can avoid it.... As win or lose, their is going to be a devil to pay....".

She rather enjoyed Saileyra, thinking they seemed to both be kindred spirits of some kind, perhaps even made from the same cloth? It was funny what a difference time and circumstance meant, as a month ago she was ready to do whatever was necessary to defeat Saileyra, who was at that point still unknown, and now here she was enjoying her company. Life was full of these funny little paradox's the Black Angel was finding, and more and more she believed she was coming across people it seemed she was designed to meet, as if their was some predetermined plan for her life, which was up until now still unknown to her. Life seemed out of control for her at times, partially due to her drinking, though also because she felt someone else had taken the wheel and begun to steer her down a more meaningful path.

When Saileyra said “I am the commander of the organization OCEAN. We end people like this man from the face of the earth. Those who threat cities, the balance, they need to die. I am here to do just that. I believe in brothers and sisters in arms, perhaps we can aid each other in this battle." the Black Angel sighed, she was never one to work well with others. She'd led men in combat before, groups of Jades, as well as in her days as "Soldier of Fortune", mostly to mixed results, as she'd never fully trusted anyone but herself. Truth be told she was much more comfortable leveling an enemy compound herself, then marking for an airstrike that may, or may not come. Though she certainly agreed with O.C.E.A.N's founding principles, the Black Angel wasn't ready to give up her mistrust yet, even though she reminded daily by the fact that whatever "Balance" the world had was starting to collapse, one only needing to look at NYC to realize this....

As much as the Black Angel knew she'd need the help, she was determined to finish this by herself, as the Ripper had just made things personnel. A cocky smile crawled across the Black Angel's face as she looked at Saileyra, saying "I certainly respect your organization then.... But I'll be responsible for no one but myself.... Have enough blood on my conscience.... Don't need anymore....", as she began to get up from the bar.

Just as the Black Angel stood, the lights flashed for a moment, before dimming completely, as the sound of a low howl of wind passed by. Their was a stir among the patrons, especially as the door to the outside blew open, revealing no one standing in the doorway. The Black Angel turned to Saileyra, saying only "Well..... He's here....", then taking one of her Glock 9mm's from her holster, began cautiously approaching the doorway. Keeping her aim fixed on the front door, which was now swinging open and shut loudly, the Black Angel slowly walked across the bar, as everyone inside watched the bizarre event with something close to a combination of primal fear and confusion.

Death had come for the Black Angel tonight.... And only one of the two would walk away....


Last edited by The Black Angel on June 17th 2013, 11:30 pm; edited 1 time in total

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Black Angel

Deviant  OCEANAngel_zps9445a764

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The Black Angel
The Black Angel
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