Deliever Us From Evil
by Tracy Eytcheson
Email  (mountdoom@comcast.net)

Inspired by the Series Created by James O’Barr

 

“Maybe in another life

I could find you there

Pulled away before your time

I can’t deal

It’s so unfair

And it feels

Like Heaven’s so far away

And it feels

Like the world has grown cold

Now that you’ve gone away

Leaving flowers on your grave

To show that I still care

But black roses and Hail Marys

Can’t bring back what’s taken from me

I reach to the sky

And call out your name

And if I could trade

I would.”

 

The Offspring

“Gone Away”

            “What do you think?”  RaeAnn asked, stepping back from the stretched canvas.  The canvas sat covered in oil paints with RaeAnn’s self-portrait staring back at her.  Her long red hair dangled down about three inches from her shoulders.  The dark brown eyes that stared back at her from the painting were identical to her own.  High cheekbones enhanced her beautiful, flawless skin.  Looking at her finished product, she felt as though she were looking into a mirror.

            “Well?”  She asked, turning around to look at David.  He climbed off the leather couch and stepped behind his wife to observe what he considered to be her new masterpiece.  RaeAnn was a truly gifted artist and most of her artwork sat around their upper class Minneapolis home.  They were her life’s work, giving her every right to take great pride in them. 

“It’s beautiful,” he said, truthfully.  Every brushstroke had taken magnificent skill.  It was definitely one of her best pieces yet.

            “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, cheerfully and kissed him quickly, before cleaning off her brushes.  David watched her, thinking about how much he loved her.  They had only been married two short weeks, but had been together much longer than that.  They had been inseparable since their senior year of high school, when they were known as high school sweethearts.  That had been five years ago and he still loved her as much as he had the day they had met.

“David, are you all right?”  She asked, with a look of concern on her lovely face.

“Yeah, I was just thinking.”

“About what?” She asked, curiously.

“About us.  How we are still together after five years,” David’s voice trailed off near the end of his sentence.  RaeAnn looked at him, smiling that smile that he loved so much.

“David, we’ll always be together.  Forever,” she added, holding up her left hand to indicate her wedding band. 

“Forever,” he echoed, smiling as he took his wife in his arms.

 

            Almost on the outside of the Twin Cities sat a supposed deserted warehouse.  It had stood for years in its vacant state.  No one ever wanted to claim it.  It was too close to the city to set up any type of really decent apartment building, but too far to establish a business in the decent part of the city.  So it stood alone.  Until Victor Dumas came along.  Victor was a collector of rare art.  He had taken the warehouse over without anyone really knowing.  He had managed to turn it into a home, almost.  There were two levels.  The bottom level was kept up as a basement.  The concrete ground was still visible and it was still ice cold in the winter. The only things that were down there were the tables and chairs and a couple futons in the back, which helped house some of his workers at times of need. The second floor was carpeted and decorated.  It had a bathroom and bedroom, which were furnished beautifully.  Victor liked to spend most of his time in the basement however, looking over new pieces of art that had come in.  He wasn’t alone though.  He had Rachel.  Rachel had spent most of her life with him upstairs.  Where was she anyway, Victor wondered, his long pale fingers tapping on the table.

            “Rachel!”  Victor yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls.  He received no response, except for the sound of Rachel’s bare feet shuffling against the concrete floor.

“Yes?”  She asked, appearing behind him.  Rachel would have been a beautiful girl, but her blue eyes that once may have looked happy, now showed nothing but sorrow.  Her blonde hair hung in limp, uneven strands ever since Victor had attacked her with the scissors.  The expression of complete sadness on her face almost masked the bruises that her makeup could never conceal.

“Get over here,” Victor ordered, and Rachel quickly scurried around the chair to face him.

“Found anything?”  He asked, eyeing her.

“Well," she hesitated momentarily, "there’s this one woman.  Her name is RaeAnn Schwartz and-”

“Get to the point.”  He cared nothing for the woman, only the art.

Rachel straightened her posture, trying to appear a little less frightened.

“Her work is outstanding, Victor.”

            Rachel’s purpose in Victor’s life was to find the exceptional and one of a kind pieces of art.  He also had her convinced half the time that he actually loved her.  Deep down though, he figured she knew it wasn’t true.  When Rachel found the work, Victor would have his people steal it for him.  The routine had been working for years and Victor was starting to become an increasingly wealthy man. 

“So what does she have?”  He asked, twiddling his thumbs.

“Well, I saw this piece called ‘The Glass Leopard’.  It’s a painting of a leopard that you are able to see through.  All the things behind it are black and the leopard’s surrounding is reversed.  Kind of a positive and negative space sort of thing.”

            Victor slowly nodded, running the image through his mind.

“All right, I’ll think about it,” he answered quickly, so that Rachel would leave.  She soon picked up the hint and wandered up to the bedroom.  She could feel the tears rising up in her throat. Most of her life was spent crying over a man that couldn't care less about her. More than anything she wished that Victor actually loved her.  Rachel knew he was just using her for his business.  She wasn’t as stupid as everyone thought she was.  Crawling into the king-sized bed the two of them shared, she wrapped the blankets tightly around her body, feeling the sting of bitter tears in her eyes as she slowly cried herself to sleep.

 

            A few miles from the warehouse, Nick O'Reily lay wide awake, staring out the window.  The dark night shone with the city lights.  Music from the nightclubs filled the air.  Ah, downtown Minneapolis, he thought, not the greatest place to live if you want a good night’s sleep.  Nick closed his eyes and attempted to clear his mind of anything that excluded sleep.  Come on, O’Reily, he told himself, trying to concentrate.  He finally did drift off to sleep, but was abruptly awoken.  A sharp pain invaded his lower right leg and he suddenly looked up.  Nick’s eyes widened in mass confusion as he realized what was causing the pain.  A large black bird had perched its talons into his leg.  It was ugly thing as far as he was concerned.

            As he rubbed his eyes to straighten out his hazy vision, he realized it was no black bird.  No, he thought, it was a crow.  A crow, he asked himself, what the hell is a crow doing in my apartment?  The bird cocked its head from side to side, observing Nick at all angles with its golden eyes.

“Caw!”  It said, fluttering its gigantic wings.

“Oh, yeah, right back at you,” Nick yelled, suddenly angry at it.  He shook his sore leg hard and the crow jumped off it.  Instead of flying away, as Nick had hoped, it perched itself happily on Nick’s bedpost.

“Get out!  Go!”  Nick commanded, waving his arms at it.

The crow didn’t even flinch.  It just kept itself perched on the post.  Finally, Nick snatched a pillow and flung it at the bird.  It cawed in sudden fright, glanced back at Nick one last time and flew out his open window.

            Nick leaped out of bed and ran to the window.  He watched, shaking his head in disbelief, as the bird disappeared into the distance.

“A bad omen,” he said aloud, closing the window, tightly.  Even though he wasn’t one to believe in superstition, Nick couldn’t help but lie awake for the rest of the night.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to be exposed to some very bad luck or turn of events.  Damn bird, he thought, tossing and turning throughout the night.

 

            “Hey Nick,” RaeAnn greeted him with a smile as she closed the front door.  She rarely answered the front door in her robe, but she had known Nick since they were little kids, so she really could care less.  The happy grin on her face vanished when she saw the look on Nick’s face.

“What’s wrong?”  She asked, worried about him.

“What?  Oh, nothing.  Just a long night,” Nick lied, not wanting to worry her about the crow.  He would probably think he was losing his mind.  The more he thought about it, the less he was worrying about it.

“RaeAnn, who’s out there?” David yelled from the other room.

“Nick!”  She yelled back.

            David wandered into the kitchen, looking much more energetic than Nick.  He poured himself a cup of coffee, offering Nick one.

“No, thanks,” he responded, pulling a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket.  He lit it, but barely had a chance to take a drag before RaeAnn grabbed it out of his mouth.

“What-”

“You’re quitting, remember?”  She asked, eyeing him with a serious look.

“Please don’t remind me,” he requested, shaking his head in annoyance.

“It’s for your own good,” RaeAnn stated, butting out the cigarette in the sink.  Before he had a chance to hide it, she grabbed the pack from his pocket.

Nick mumbled something under his breath, irritated with how the past few hours had turned out.

“Nick, are you sure you’re okay?”  RaeAnn asked, still worried about her friend.

“Yeah,” he reassured her, “I just didn’t sleep too well.”

RaeAnn nodded, still not convinced.  She had known him for years and could tell when something was bothering him.  She didn’t want to ponder the subject any further though, so she started to make some breakfast.

            Nick walked around the house, looking over RaeAnn’s artwork.  It amazed him at times that she was capable of creating all of the beautiful things in the house.  Suddenly, he noticed something that he had not seen before.  A painting was sitting on the far side of the room, across from the stairway.  It was a self-portrait. 

“Hey, Rae!  Is this a new one?”

RaeAnn peered around the corner into the room.

“Oh, yeah.  I was thinking of calling it ‘The Red Lady’.  You know, with my red hair and all?  What do you think?”

“I like it.  It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks, Nick,” she said, before vanishing back to the kitchen.

 

            Rachel sat in front of her mirror, examining her bruised face.  Before her sat powders and as much liquid makeup that she could possibly handle putting on her face.  She had already applied way too much makeup, but the purplish-black mark under her left eye was still visible.

“Rachel!”  Wildcat, one of Victor’s little foot soldiers, yelled.

“What?”  She yelled back at him.

“Dumas wants to see you,” he said, coming up from behind her.

“Tell him I’ll see him when I’m done fixing the mess he made of my face.”

“Get downstairs now!”  He ordered, grabbing her arm, roughly.  She yelped in pain, but his grip didn’t loosen.

            Wildcat dragged her down the stairs, over to where Victor was sitting, and practically threw her at him.

“Hello, darling,” Victor said in a mocking tone.  “Tell me, how are you today.”

Rachel glared at him, her eyes filled with hate and rage.  She didn’t dare say a word though.  Her fear of getting hit again was too great.

“I have a job for you, Rachel.  I need you to go out and get as much information on this Schwartz woman as possible.  You think you can handle that?”

“Yes,” she nodded.  She turned to leave as soon as possible.

“Oh, and Rachel?” He called.

“Yes?”

“Don’t bother trying to leave town, okay?  You remember what happened last time.  We don’t want another one of those incidents now, do we?”

Recalling the incident with the scissors, Rachel flinched.

“No, Victor.”

“Good girl.  Now go.”

 

            Rachel watched in sheer delight as RaeAnn Schwartz left her house.  That was the time to get a better look at the artwork.  She sprang into action, leaping out of Victor’s Mercedes Benz and racing across the street.  With her past experiences, she had learned how to break in without having to break the lock.  Luckily for Rachel, the house was not equipped with a security system, or a guard dog to meet her at the door.  The house was a true rarity in that respect.  She did, however, spot a small gray cat lying asleep on a nearby chair.  Rachel ignored it and went to work.

            She stripped a canvas of its protective sheet, which guarded the artistic splendor.  Beneath the sheet lay a whirlpool of shades a colors.  Running her hand across the painting, she came across the title.  “The Red Lady” was inscribed into the painting directly above RaeAnn’s signature.

“Clever,” Rachel commented.  Taking a second glance at the painting, she made a split-second decision.  Forget “The Glass Leopard”.  Victor was going to love this.  It was truly a breathtaking piece of work.  Too bad Victor was going to have to take it away.  She covered the painting, making it seem as if it had never been touched.  Retracing her steps, she walked back out the door, to the car, and straight back to Victor Dumas.

           

            Above the city filled with music, streetlights, neon signs, the crow flew.  It watched people wander the streets mindlessly, enjoying what was left of summer.  Soon the bitter cold would set in for several agonizing months of winter.  The people were happy, for the time being.  It descended they sky and landed on a windowsill.  Inside the building, sat Rachel, Victor, and Clash, one of Victor’s other followers.

“So, what did you find this time?” Victor asked of Rachel, not really expecting to hear much of anything interesting.

“A self-portrait,” she answered, almost proudly.

“This interests me, why?”  Victor asked, not bothering to mask his sarcasm.

“It’s an excellent piece.”

“What is this self portrait called?”

“ ‘The Red Lady’.”

“What a stupid name,” Clash grunted.

“Not nearly as stupid as Clash,” Rachel commented in the painting’s defense.  Victor’s men had some of the most pathetic names she had ever heard.  Some gang he had.

            Clash moved swiftly across the room, preparing to backhand her, but stopped abruptly when he heard the cawing of a crow.  He spun around and saw it perched on the windowsill.

“What’s that ugly thing doing here?”  He asked.

“Agreeing with me,” Rachel smirked.

Clash glared at her, but ignored the comeback.  Instead, he turned to Victor.

“What are you looking at me for?  Kill it,” Victor ordered.

Clash, merely following orders, pulled out his small handgun.  He took a shot, but missed the bird by a good three inches.  It flew off quickly, not wanting to chance getting shot.

“Nice shooting, ace,” Victor said, both angry and sarcastic at the same time.

 

 

            Mrs. RaeAnn Schwartz was sitting on the bank of a small lake, not far from her home.  Her fingers ran through the cool water.  She and David came there often to relax.  David sat next to her, watching the purple and orange sunset in the distance.  The area was practically silent, hidden far from the chaos of the city.

“I dare you to jump in,” RaeAnn suddenly suggested, a sly grin covering her face.

“Yeah, after you,” David said, with a laugh.

“All right,” she said, jumping to her feet.  She pulled a clip out of her hair, allowing her hair to fall down around her face.  David watched her in amazement as she pulled her shirt up over her head, kicked her shorts aside, and leaped into the water.  He hadn’t actually expected her to jump in, but he should have known better. 

            The water was deep and RaeAnn went straight to the bottom of the lake.  Kicking her feet hard, she surfaced and looked to see her husband still on shore.

“Hey, come on!”

“No, I think I’ll just watch you,” he said, ignoring the fact that he had said he would jump in after her.

“David, come on!  Get in the water!”

“Fine,” he agreed, taking a running leap into the lake.  He swam over to RaeAnn, his teeth chattering.

“David, it’s not that cold.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think.”

“Do you want to go back home?”

“What?  Why in God’s name did you get me out in this water in the first place?”  He stammered through chattering teeth.

“Oh, I don’t know.  Boredom?”

He rolled his eyes at her.  “Yes, let’s go home.”

RaeAnn shook her head attempting to rid her hair of the water and dirt.  It had been about a half-hour, but it was still wet.  She had put on a fresh T-shirt to help dry off.  It had helped slightly, but not nearly as much as she had hoped.  She looked down at David.  He was sleeping soundly on the leather couch.  RaeAnn would have been next to him, but she was putting some finishing touches on “The Red Lady”.  After about another hour, she felt herself growing tired though, and cleaned off her brushes.

            “Hey...” she said, softly, gently shaking her husband awake.  His eyes opened slightly.

“Hi,” he greeted her, not truly awake.

“Come on, David.  Let’s go to bed.”

“Okay,” he said, his voice tired.

They crept into bed and David pulled RaeAnn close to him, wrapping his arm around her.  He watched her fall asleep and for the next hour, she peacefully slept next to him.  Eventually, he snuggled in closer to her and closed his eyes.

 

            While David and RaeAnn slept, Nick was, once again, wide-awake.  Sleep was no longer an option as far as he was considered.  It had bid him farewell ever since his visit by that surreal crow.  He had started to walk around in a half dream state, due to his sleep deprivation.  He reached into his nightstand drawer.  His intent was to grab the bottle of aspirin for his throbbing head, but instead, his fingers grazed the surface of something he had not looked at in a long time.  He had forgotten it was even there.

            It was RaeAnn’s senior photo from high school.  He ran his fingers over the photo slowly, studying it.  She looked almost the same then as she does now, he thought.  Nick and RaeAnn had gone back a long way.  She had met him when they were just little kids and they had basically grown up together.  Over the years, Nick had grown to love her.  By the time he had worked up the courage to tell her how he really felt, it was too late.  David had already stepped into her life.  He had never liked David.  He always felt as if David had taken RaeAnn from him.  He had always loved RaeAnn and he never wanted to be with anyone but her.

            Placing the photo back in the drawer, his fingers found the bottle of aspirin.  He knew that he needed it now, more than ever.  The thought of David and RaeAnn made his head pound all the more.  He took just enough to put him to sleep, but not enough to kill him.  Turning on his side, he watched out the window.  Maybe if he stared out at the city long enough it would all just disappear and he would drift off into his own sweet oblivion.

 

            The bruise had faded slightly, only to be accompanied by a new one right next to it.  Rachel sat in the bathroom, hugging her knees to her chest with her left arm and holding an icepack against her face with her right hand.  Her eyes stung from crying so many tears in one morning.  After her fight with Victor over something so trivial that it wasn’t even worth mentioning, she locked herself in the bathroom to get away from him.  It was there he had left her to cry for almost an hour straight, as she wished her life was different.  The sadness of the whole thing was that she knew it never could be.  Her life would be in full service to Victor.  Out of nowhere, he thoughts shifted to RaeAnn Schwartz.  That night would be the night that the painting would be stolen.  Rachel knew what happened to most people that Victor stole from.  They ended up dead, one way or another.  For some reason, Rachel felt she couldn’t let that happen.

            She grabbed the towel rack above her head and pulled herself to her feet.  Cautiously, she slid the door open and glanced around the corner.  Victor was nowhere in sight, so she ran to the bedroom.  Upon finding RaeAnn’s phone number in the white pages Victor kept next to the bed, she snatched the cellular phone on her dresser.  She gave quick thought to what she was doing.  You’re saving a woman’s life, she thought, it’s the one good thing you have probably ever done.  Quickly dialing the number, she listened for an answer that never came.

            “Dammit!” Rachel cursed, after seven rings with no answering machine. She hung the phone up and threw it at the wall.  There was no way for her to warn RaeAnn.  She couldn’t get hold of Victor’s car keys unless he gave them to her.  Due to what she had done, an innocent person would probably die.  There was nothing she could do about it either.

 

            “So, David’s not here, right?” Nick asked, his eyes scanning the room, nervously. 

“Nick, how many times do I have to tell you, no he is not here.  Now what is going on?”  She asked, wearing that concerned look on her face once again.  Nick had been wondering all night and day if he should tell RaeAnn how he truly felt about her.  He decided she had the right to know.  It was better that way.

“RaeAnn, I don’t know how to tell you this, but-”

His voice died away as he tried to speak the words. 

“Nick, would you please tell me what is going on?  You’re starting to scare me.”

Nick drew a deep breath.  He had the whole thing rehearsed in his head a thousand times, but now that it came down to the moment of truth, he couldn’t speak the words.

“Hey,” RaeAnn spoke, gently, seeing the frightened look on Nick’s face, “Nick, it’s me.  You can tell me anything.  Now what is bothering you?  What is it?”

Finally, Nick spoke.

“RaeAnn, I love you.”

Her facial expression remained the same.

“I love you too, Nick.  You know that.  Now what’s wrong?”

He stared at her.  She didn’t get it. 

“RaeAnn, that is what is wrong.  I love you.  I mean, I really love you.”

RaeAnn’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he finished his sentence.

            None was quite as shocked as David though, who sat in the next room.  RaeAnn had been truthful to Nick.  She had thought David was at work.  She just hadn’t heard him come back to the house to get his office keys.  He had heard everything that Nick had said though.  He couldn’t believe it either.  He had treated Nick as a friend and invited him into their house countless times.  Now he had the nerve to hit on RaeAnn.  He knew it would be unwise to face Nick and RaeAnn when he was so upset.  He needed to calm down a little bit.  As quietly as he had come into the house, he left it.  Nick’s words lingered in his mind for the rest of the day. One thing was for sure, he couldn’t lose RaeAnn.  She was his entire life.  He was not about to let Nick take her away from him.

            “Nick, what are you talking about?” RaeAnn finally asked, after coming to terms with what he had said.

“You heard me.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“But, Nick,” she said, her voice shaking, “David is my husband.  You understand that I love him and I couldn’t possibly have the same feelings for you?”

“I know,” he said, looking down.

RaeAnn watched him sadly, hating that expression of pain that she had unintentionally helped place on his handsome face.  Quickly, he snapped his head back up to face her.

“I just...I had to tell you,” he choked out, heading for the door.

He secretly wondered if what he had done was right.  He loved her, but he couldn’t come between her and David.  He had known that all along.

“Nick, wait...” RaeAnn said, but he was already out the door.

He didn’t even glance back.  He just kept walking.  RaeAnn watched him through the window, her eyes growing damp.

 

            “Now, are we all understanding this?”

Rachel sat on the top of the staircase, watching Victor commanding his army of four.  As much as Rachel hated all their names and thought that they looked like some kind of sideshow when they got lined up, she knew they were all quite dangerous.  More dangerous than most people she had encountered in her life.  They were all very strong and the strength they possessed was never spared on anyone.  Anyone included Rachel, which is why she tended to shy away from them.  She had enough problems with Victor.

            First off, there was Clash.  Clash was the one of the whole group that actually didn’t look like a criminal.  He didn’t even look remotely dangerous.  He just looked scary.  He stood six feet, six inches, towering over anyone who stood anywhere near him.  His long black hair hung down to his waist and was always worn loose.  There was about a thousand dollars of jewelry on his fingers, around his neck, and through his ears at all times. Amongst his jewelry was a wedding band on his left hand.  No one knew if it was real or not.  He dressed pretty casually in jeans and t-shirts.  Rachel thought he reminded her of some people she used to know in high school.

            Wildcat looked just like how his name sounded.  He was short with red hair that was never really cared for.  Stubble was always on his chin and Rachel sometimes wondered whether the man ever bothered to even shower.  He didn’t smell too great.  Maybe it was the rotten teeth that somehow had managed to not fall out of his mouth yet.  A silver hoop was pierced through his left nostril, but aside from that, he wore no jewelry.  The greatest illusion of Wildcat’s was his strength.  He was tiny, but he had more muscle than the other three combined.

            Scorpion looked like a biker.  Rachel thought he looked more like a psychotic Judas Priest fan, but no one seemed to agree with her, least of all, Scorpion.  He always wore black studded leather. He had short, blonde hair and his arms were covered in sleeves of tattoos and track marks.  He was a very mean creature.  No one really liked him too much, but Rachel tried to stay as far away from him as possible.  He was usually strung out on two or three drugs at a time, so he was never his true self.

            Last of all, came Dark Angel.  He scared everyone, no questions asked.  He even scared Victor, but he would never admit it.  The reason for all the fear was that he was thought to have gone insane several years back.  He had been in the Vietnam War and a mine had blown up where he had been standing. He never spoke again after the war.  He lived a life of complete silence.  The blast had claimed both of his hands, most of his face, and his mind.  In place of his hands sat two rusty hooks. No one knew what his face really looked like.  He kept it covered with a black hood and sunglasses.  He always seemed to wear the same thing.  The sunglasses, the hooded sweatshirt, the black jeans, the black leather coat, and his old combat boots completed his wardrobe.  Despite being the most frightening, he had never once hurt Rachel.

            The men all nodded, understanding what Victor had told them.  They were to steal the painting and leave no witnesses.  How they got rid of the witnesses made no difference to Victor, as long as none remained.  If they found anything else of value and were able to steal it, Victor would be all the happier and impressed.  They kept that in mind as they left the warehouse that rainy night.

 

            David heard the thunder roll above him.  He knew that RaeAnn had a terrible fear of thunderstorms.  He had never been able to understand why.  Maybe it was the loud noise the thunder made that scared her so much.  Whatever it was, he wasn’t really thinking that hard about it.  He still had Nick and RaeAnn’s conversation stuck in his head from that morning.  Confronting her about it would be the next step, if he could figure out how he wanted to go about doing that.

“I hate these things,” he heard his wife mutter behind him.

He spun around and upon seeing her, he felt as if his heart were being torn in two. He couldn’t lose her.  He loved her too much.

            Seeing the pain in David’s eyes, RaeAnn moved closer to him.

“Hey, David,” she said, her voice soothing.  “Is everything all right?”

He looked at her as if he were about to cry.  She had never seen him so distraught in her whole life.

“What’s wrong?”

David felt tears rising up in his throat as he anticipated the worst.  He had to ask.

“Do you love him, RaeAnn?” He blurted out, a tear running down his cheek.  He didn’t bother to brush it away.  He had to hear her answer first.

“What?”  She asked.

“You think I didn’t hear your conversation with Nick this morning?” David asked, the anger starting to build in his voice.  RaeAnn gasped.  She had no idea that he had known what had happened.

            “David-”

“Just answer me, okay?”

“He’s my friend, David.  I love him as a friend.  But that is all,” she answered, truthfully.

“Are you sure?”

“David, you know I love you, right?  You’re the only one I love.  I swear.  Now calm down.  Don’t worry so much.”

David hugged RaeAnn tightly, not wanting to let her go.  She felt his voice whispering in her ear.

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“David, you’re not going to lose me.  You’re stuck with me.  Don’t ever forget that,” she reassured him, smiling.

He was much calmer then.  He wanted to stay like that with her forever.

 

            Thunder tore through the sky and the rain poured down hard as the crow did its best to keep up with the black and silver Cadillac.  Inside the car sat Clash, Wildcat, Scorpion, and Dark Angel.  All but Dark Angel seemed to be conversing.  Dark Angel decided to sit silently in backseat.  Wildcat was back there with him, but he was talking with the guys in the front, so he might as well have been up there with them.

“So, what’s the plan?” Scorpion asked of anyone who actually might have cared to answer.

“Same as always.  We break in and steal the work.  If anyone sees us, we take care of it,” answered Wildcat, patting the pistol he kept in his waistband.

“That sounds easy enough.  Hey, I think we’re here.  Man, check this place out,” Scorpion said, stepping out of the car and onto the padded driveway. 

“Man, you’ve gotta be making some serious cash to be living like this.  Why don’t I have a house like this?” Wildcat asked.

“Because you work for Dumas,” Clash replied.

“So do you and you have a huge house.”

Clash shrugged.  Dark Angel began to walk up the steep driveway.  That meant it was time to go.

 

            David was watching RaeAnn sleep again.  He was so relieved that she was still with him.  He didn’t know why he had ever doubted her, but there was something troubling him in the back of his mind.  The storm had finally let up and the moonbeams danced across the room, casting light across RaeAnn’s face.  She looked so peaceful.  David glanced down at Bernie, who was sleeping across RaeAnn’s legs.  Bernie was their cat.  She was RaeAnn’s confirmation namesake.  RaeAnn’s confirmation name was Bernadette, but they couldn’t bring themselves to call the cat such a long name.  So they shortened it to Bernie. 

            Suddenly, the cat’s ears perked up and David heard a low growl escape her throat.  He had never heard her do that before.  He tried to ignore it, until he heard what sounded like the front door being opened.  RaeAnn must have heard it too.  Seconds later, she was awake.

“What was that?”  She asked, half-awake.

“I’m not sure...” David said, cautiously, slipping out of bed.  RaeAnn started after him, but he stopped her, afraid for her safety.

“No, you stay here,” he told her.  She could hear the fear in his voice though.  She nodded and grabbed Bernie.  Holding the cat tightly, she hoped that David would be back soon.  She tried to let herself relax, but it didn’t work.  Soon she heard multiple, unknown voices coming from below her.

            RaeAnn quickly ran to the foot of the stairs, disobeying what David had told her.  Unfortunately, running down the stairs turned out to be the worst decision of her life.  It was the one that would cost her everything.  She stared at her husband in pure shock.  Tears were already running down her face, but she hardly knew it.  David was surrounded by four men and had already been severely beaten.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her.

“Oh, God, RaeAnn!  Run!”  He shouted to her.  One of the men kicked him hard in the stomach and she watched him start to cough up blood.

“David...” she cried, not knowing what else to say.  Her husband was lying in the middle of her studio in a bruised, bloody heap. 

            “Well, well, who do we have here?” asked the redheaded man.  “You must be RaeAnn.”

He advanced towards her and when she turned to run, he grabbed onto her hair and pulled her back.  She yelped in pain and he grabbed her around the waist, dragging her over to David.

“Please...” she begged, “don’t hurt us.  Take whatever you want.  Just leave us alone.”

“Oh, we already took what we wanted,” Wildcat told her with a widespread grin, showing off all his rotted teeth.  He then pointed to where “The Red Lady” used to be displayed.  The painting was gone.

            “What do you think now, RaeAnn?” He asked, holding up her chin so she was inches away from his face.  RaeAnn held her breath, so as not to breathe in the stench of his.  When she didn’t answer, Wildcat slapped her hard, leaving a red mark on her face.

“Don’t you touch her, you filthy bastard!” David screamed, full of rage.

Scorpion looked over at Clash.

“I say we finish him off right now.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Clash said.  “You want to do it?”

“With pleasure.”

            Wildcat held RaeAnn in place while Scorpion pulled out his gun.  With full realization of what was about to happen, RaeAnn struggled to break free of Wildcat’s grasp.

“You sit still!” He yelled, tightening his grip on her.  She recoiled in pain as he pulled her closer to his body, his nails digging deep into her flesh.  Uncontrollable quivering took over her body at that moment, as she felt so scared she nearly vomited.

David was so badly beaten by that time that he couldn’t even move.  Clash sat him up, while Scorpion took his own sweet time loading the gun.

“Come on, man.  I don’t want this to take all night,” Clash complained.

“I just have to...there!” He spun the cylinder and RaeAnn saw that the gun was fully loaded.  David looked at RaeAnn suddenly and she saw a look in his eyes that she would never forget.  It was as if he had already accepted his death.  I love you, he mouthed to her, too weak to form the words.

            Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.  Scorpion pointed the gun at the back of David’s head.  Slowly, he clicked down the hammer.  The moment he squeezed the trigger was the moment RaeAnn closed her eyes.  It was the moment her life was over.  She heard the shot go off and when she opened her eyes, Wildcat released her.  She crawled across the floor to where David lay.  The bullet hole was scarcely visible due to his dark hair mixing in with all the blood.  She seized his shoulders and turned him on his back.

“No, no. No...” she moaned, staring down at her dead husband.  “David, please, you can’t be dead.  Oh, God, please don’t let this be happening!  David!” RaeAnn began to shriek as she stared at him.  The beautiful blue eyes she had loved so much stared up at her, lifeless, as a river of blood flowed between them.

            Someone grabbed her around the neck, cutting off her breathing.  RaeAnn felt herself being dragged across the floor.  When they finally let her go, she gulped in the taste of the air.  She made meager attempts to get away, but they pinned her to the ground.  Whatever events happened to take place next were too painful for her mind to comprehend.  All she saw were visions of red as she shifted in and out of consciousness almost automatically.  Suddenly, a hallucination of her Catholic mother appeared in front of her eyes.  A rosary of white beads was clutched in her right hand.  Her mother’s surroundings were of a candlelit church.  RaeAnn remembered it from her childhood.  She almost smiled.  That’s when she began to pray.

            “Our Father...” she began, with the taste of blood in her mouth.

“What the hell is she doing?” Clash asked, letting her go for a second.  He looked down at her, looking at what they had done to her.  RaeAnn’s face was bruised.  Her red hair hung in a stringy mess after having so much blood mixed in with it.  He was sure they had broken her cheekbones, nose, and possibly even her jaw.  How she was even talking was beyond him.

“She’s praying,” laughed Wildcat.  “It’s not going to help her much.”

“...who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name...”

“Well, shut her up!” Clash yelled at him.

“...they Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven...”

Scorpion smashed the toe of his boot into RaeAnn’s side.  She howled in pain, coughing up a mouthful of blood.  Even so, she continued the prayer.

“...give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses.  As we forgive those who trespass against us...”

            RaeAnn was beginning to choke as the prayer came to a close.

“...and lead us not into temptation...”

Scorpion took another kick at her side and she heard her ribs crack.

“...and deliver us from evil,” she finished.  All the strength she had once felt was drained from her body.  Dark Angel moved across the room.  He kneeled down beside RaeAnn, so she could see the scars on his deformed face.  He slid his right hook down her cheek.

“Deliver us from evil,” she repeated, looking past him.

He stood up and aligned his foot with the base of her skull.

            Before anything happened, RaeAnn looked over at David.  She was only inches from him then and she clutched his hand into hers.

“I’m so sorry...” she whispered, blaming herself for his death.  She closed her eyes, wanting to feel at peace with her husband.  Only seconds later did Dark Angel’s boot come into contact with RaeAnn’s skull.  The sharp kick sent her into an eternity of darkness.  There, Death greeted her with open arms.

 

            Nick sat in a hospital waiting room, not really drinking the cup of coffee that rested in his shaking hands.  He had received a call at about two in the morning saying that RaeAnn and David had been hurt.  He didn’t know how badly, he didn’t know how or why.  He just knew he had to be there for them.

“Nick O’Reily?” A short, blonde nurse asked.

Nick’s head snapped up.  His eyes were extremely tired, but he needed to hear what she had to say.

“Yes?”

“Please come with me.”

She led him down a long, brightly lit corridor.  Close to the end of it, stood a doctor, who wore a grim expression.

“This is him,” said the nurse, quietly.

The doctor nodded and the nurse left them alone.  By the look on the doctor’s face, he knew there was going to be bad news.  Nick sat down a nearby chair and listened to what the doctor had to say.

            “How well did you know David and RaeAnn Schwartz, sir?”

“RaeAnn is my best friend.  I’ve known David a few years,” he answered, numbly.

“Are you aware that there was a break-in at their residence last night?”

“I guess I am now.”

The doctor looked at him sadly.

“This is never easy, but this is what happened.  The two were beaten very badly.  David was shot in the back of the head at close range.  He didn’t make it.”

Nick inhaled sharply.  David was dead.  Then the other thought stuck out in his mind.  What had happened to RaeAnn?  Please, God, don’t let her be dead, he prayed.  He couldn’t handle that.

“W-what happened to RaeAnn?” He stammered.

            The doctor took a deep breath.

“RaeAnn held out longer than her husband did.  She withstood several severe injuries and was badly raped.”

Nick flinched hard.

“But she didn’t make it, Nick.  I’m so sorry.”  The doctor looked as if he were about to cry.  “I’m sorry.”

Nick felt a sob in his throat trying to fight his way out.  He couldn’t speak.  He just shook his head slowly, burying his face in his hands.  The doctor was afraid he was going to pass out.

“Sir, do you have someone you can call?”

“No, um, I’ll be fine,” Nick felt the tears begin to run down his face.

“Look, I think you should go home and get some sleep.  Take a few days off, okay?  Just rest for a few days,” the doctor advised, not knowing what else to say.  He had never had to tell anyone anything that terrible in his entire medical career. 

“Yeah, okay,” Nick agreed, weakly.  Go home and sleep, he thought.  Sleep and all the pain will go away.

 

            “This is truly one of a kind,” Victor commented, looking the painting over.  He knew it would become a good seller immediately.  He smiled, then turned to everyone else.

“What else did you find?”  He had hoped that in such a rich environment, they would be able to find more.

Wildcat opened his hand, revealing two golden rings sitting in his palm.  The first was a standard golden wedding band.  The second was by far more exquisite and Victor figured it had been an engagement ring.  It had one large diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on either side of the large.  That would be worth a lot of money.

“Hey, where’s the other one?” Scorpion asked, suddenly, looking at the rings.

“The other one?” Wildcat question.

“Yeah, you idiot.  The other one.  The husband’s ring.  It looked just like the gold one.”

Wildcat rolled his eyes and groaned in disgust.

“I must have dropped it.”

            “You’re going to be replaced really soon if keep this up,” Victor told him, grabbing the rings from his hand and leaving the room.  He went upstairs to where Rachel lay, still wide awake.

“Rachel, let me show you something,” she heard him say.

She sat up and looked at Victor.

“What?  What is it?” She asked, tired.

He crawled in bed beside her and opened his clenched fist.  Rachel’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Where-”

“Take these,” he said, sliding the two rings on her fingers.

It was             then that Rachel realized where the rings actually belonged.

“Victor, do these rings belong to a dead woman?” She asked, already knowing that they had killed RaeAnn.

            Victor lay down next to her and closed his eyes.

“Don’t let it bother you, Rachel.  Just go to sleep,” he told her, hitting the light switch.

Rachel rolled over.  She looked at the shimmering diamonds on the ring.  They were her rings now, right?  Who cared if they had once belonged to a woman that she had helped kill?  It meant nothing.  She tried as hard as she could to keep telling herself these things as she closed her eyes and hoped for sleep.

 

            Nick had stood among RaeAnn and David’s family and friends long enough.  He couldn’t deal with looking at their sad faces any longer.  He hardly knew any of them anyway.  The only people he had ever really known in RaeAnn’s family were her parents and they were long since dead.  Instead of remaining with the funeral party, he watched them drive away and sat down under a tree in the cemetery.  The ground was starting to grow cold.  The winter months were near.  He pulled out a bottle of sedatives that the doctor had prescribed for him and took a couple more. 

            The funeral had been terrible.  Somehow, they had managed to reconstruct RaeAnn’s face so that she was allowed an open casket.  She didn’t look the same though.  Nick had wished it had been a closed casket so he could have just remembered her in life instead of death.  David’s injuries were too severe and he had needed a closed one.  Nick still couldn’t believe she was dead.  The cold wind had begun to pick up slightly, so Nick stood back up.  He needed to go back to his apartment and sleep as long as he could.  For he knew that in his dreams, RaeAnn would be alive.

 

            Two more weeks had passed and Victor Dumas was having the time of his life.  As predicted, “The Red Lady” had become a hot seller.  He had been getting offers left and right for the painting.  All he had to do was wait until someone named the perfect price.

“Victor,” he heard Rachel speak.

She was standing behind him, wearing RaeAnn’s rings on her left hand.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you sell that painting already?  I mean, seeing that woman’s face day after day is really starting to freak me out.  It’s like she is making us feel guilty for what we did to her.”

Victor rolled his eyes.

“Rachel, do you honestly believe half the crap that you say?”

“Just think about it once, Victor,” Rachel said, leaving the room.

 

            The dark of night set in over the city.  Most people were at home asleep, dreading work of the next day.  There were others though that wandered the streets.  The ones that had an empty space were an innocent soul had once dwelled.  They were the bad ones.  They were types like the ones that had killed RaeAnn and David.  The eyes of the crow could see them all.  It saw the evil deeds of the night being committed.  That night would be different though.  That was the night that justice would prevail.  It was the night when a woman so full of loss and sadness would seek her revenge.  That was the night it would all begin.  Sitting on a nearby tombstone, the crow calmly watched RaeAnn’s grave.  Something was about to happen.  The sky was full of storm clouds and the rain was pouring down, soaking the bird’s wings.  It didn’t stir; it simply waited.  It knew better than to leave.  Something was about to happen.  An avenging angel was about to be reborn.

            Perhaps it was the thunder that woke her.  She wasn’t sure.  RaeAnn’s eyes flickered.  Darkness greeted her.

“David?” She asked, her mouth feeling parched and dry.

She searched her surroundings, but could not find him.  What she found instead scared her beyond belief.  She was enclosed in something.  Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, she began to panic.  She felt for the top of her tiny prison and realized it was about four inches in front of her face.  Where was she?  She pounded hard on the top, rolling her hands into fists.  The strength she had obtained surprised her quite a bit, because before she knew what was happening, the coffin began to break apart.

            Wet, cold mud hit her face as she began to climb out of the grave.  Suddenly, aware of the fact that she may soon be running short of air, she dug faster.  More mud caved in around her body as she struggled up six feet.  When she finally did reach the ground level, she gasped hard, taking in all the sweet, refreshing air she could stand.  Once she was out, all she really had the power to do was collapse.

            The crow gazed down at her.  RaeAnn lay unconscious across David’s grave.  The white gown she had been buried in had been turned almost black from the mud as the rain did its best to clean it off.  The mud covered most of her body as well.  Soon she would awaken.  She would have no clue that she was dead.  Once the shock set in, she would then realize why she was back, and then her killers would pay.

 

            RaeAnn staggered through the rain-soaked streets towards home.  That would be where David would be.  She looked down at herself.  Her dress was covered in mud, as was the rest of her body.  Her hair stuck to her scalp, wet and dirty.  She needed a shower, badly.  She couldn’t let David see her in that condition.  What would he think?  So, as quietly as she could, she crept in the house through the back door.  Using the stairs in the kitchen, she raced to the upstairs bathroom.

            Quickly stepping out of the filthy dress, she threw it in the garbage and turned on the water.  The hot water stung her tight, dried-out skin, but she remained there.  After washing her hair twice and cleansing her body to a satisfying point, she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel.

“David?” She called, when she walked into their bedroom.  He was nowhere to be seen.  RaeAnn grabbed a warm, terrycloth robe to shield herself from the cold.

“David?” She called once again.  She had no idea where he was, but she needed to be near him.

“Come on, David!  This isn’t funny!” She shouted, allowing the fear in her voice to be heard.  “You win, okay?  You scared the hell out of me!  Now would you please show yourself?  Where are you?”

            RaeAnn descended the stairway that led to her studio.  The house was dark, except for the stray moonbeams that crossed the room.  It was the room where her artwork was displayed.  Or where the artwork had once been displayed.  RaeAnn gasped in shock as she turned on the light.  “The Red Lady” was gone.  Whatever else had once been in the room as a work of art was destroyed.  Sculptures had been smashed, canvases were torn, and paint covered the floor.  Then in one of the far corners of the room, she saw several large bloodstains.  Along the bloodstains were two figures outlined in chalk.  Her eyes widened in terror.  She felt sick and scared all at the same time as her thoughts became increasingly distorted.  What happened here, she asked herself.  Where is my painting?  Why is that blood there?  Where is David?

            Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker of gold light.  A ring lay by the door.  It had remained untouched by the paint and blood.  RaeAnn quickly ran over to it.  She snatched the ring into her palm and looked at it closely.  There was an inscription on the inside of it.  Turning it too the light, she was able to read it better.  Love Always, RaeAnn.  It was David’s wedding ring.  What was it doing on the floor?  Then she glanced down at her left hand.  Both her wedding and engagement rings were gone.

“No!” She gasped, dropping her husband’s ring.  She heard it hit the hardwood floor with a clatter.  Images tainted in blood red filled her mind.  There was pain with no end.  The feeling of loss was greater than any type of pain she had ever experienced.

 

Then they appeared.  The people who had taken both David and her life away from her.  Ugly, murderous faces stared down at her.  She could see David lying a few yards away from her, bleed and slowly dying.  His eyes were filled with tears as he reached for her.

 

“David...” she whispered, tears of pain and sorrow rolling down her cheeks.  Dropping to her knees, she let the tears continue to fall. 

RaeAnn smelled the grotesque scent of Clash’s breath.  She saw the rotten teeth in his sinister smile.  The side of her face stung badly from where he had slapped her, only now the pain was much worse.  It was accompanied by a pain that was by far greater, one that could never get any better.

 

She gripped onto her wet hair.  More than anything she wanted to drive the emotional pain out of her body.  Figuring physical pain may dull the experience, she pulled hard on her hair and clawed at skin on her skull.  It didn’t help at all, but she secretly knew it wouldn’t.  Turning her face to the heavens above she screamed in agony, begging and sobbing.  “Take it away!  Please, take the pain away!”

 

The worst came next.  She watched as Clash sat David up.  David sat limply, unable to do anything but accept his grim death.  She saw Scorpion load the gun and point it at David’s head.  The only difference between the real execution and the one in her mind was that she had to watch him getting shot.  She didn’t close her eyes.  She watched as the blood flew out the bullet hole in the middle of his forehead and he collapsed to the ground.  Seeing the life bleed away from the man she loved was far more painful than anything she could have ever imagined.

 

            A scream of rage tore through RaeAnn’s body.  She leaped to her feet, destroying everything in sight.  She had never felt as horrible as she did at that moment.  Grabbing a nearby lamp, she tore it from the wall and threw it through the mirror.  The mirror’s glass shattered and covered the hardwood floor like snow.  Whatever pieces of art hadn’t been already destroyed, she demolished.  Shredding canvases and smashing any leftover sculptures, she felt some of her anger diminish. 

            Suddenly, she heard something behind her.  Stopping her destruction to look, she saw Bernie sitting on the bottom of the stairs.

“Bernie,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.  She rushed over to the cat and scooped her into her arms.  Bernie somehow helped comfort her and calm her down.  The cat purred loudly and RaeAnn held her tight, her tears soaking the tiny cat’s fur.

 

            Rachel twisted the engagement ring around her finger.  The beautiful diamond that was placed in the center had completely lost its sparkle.  It sat there like a dull rock.  That’s because the real owner of the ring is dead, spoke a voice in the back of her head.  And you helped kill her.

“Shut up!” She yelled.  “I tried to help her, didn’t I?”

Not hard enough.

“I tried!” She cried.  “I tried to stop it.  Do you think I wanted two innocent people to die?”

The voice never answered.  Rachel knew she wasn’t crazy.  She wasn’t hearing voices.  It was simply her conscious playing mind games on her.

“God, RaeAnn, I am so sorry...” Rachel whispered, hoping that somehow, somewhere, RaeAnn knew how sorry she truly was. 

“I’m so sorry.”  

 

            RaeAnn sat in the bedroom, mindlessly searching through the dresser drawers and shelves. What she was looking for was the true question.  There had to be something in the house that would help her understand why she was back.  She had gone through almost everything she owned.  Pictures were scattered all over the bed and floor.  The pictures brought back all the happy memories that she and her husband had shared.  They were memories that they would still be making if they hadn’t...died. 

            Slamming one of the drawers shut, she accidentally caused a framed photograph to fall to the ground.  The impact of the fall had cracked the glass and she carefully picked it up.  When RaeAnn saw what it was, she swore she could feel her heart tearing in two.  Out of anything that she could have possibly seen, she didn’t need to see that again.  It was the most beautiful memory she had of her and David’s life together.  Now, much like their life, it too was destroyed.

            RaeAnn looked at the wedding photograph with tears in her eyes.  It had been one of the professional ones that they had decided to get done.  It was absolutely beautiful.  There she had stood in her long, white gown with a happy smile on her face.  Her husband had stood next to her, just as happy.  She had taken more pride and effort into that day than any other in her entire life.  It had all been worth it.  With the help of four killers though, all that happiness and beauty had all been taken away in about ten minutes.  The wonderful, loving man standing in the photograph next to her was gone.  He was dead and buried.  It was because of those four men.  They had to pay.  They had to die.  She knew she was the one to kill them all.  She had to make them suffer as they had made her suffer.

            The tears of pain rolling down RaeAnn’s cheeks turned then to tears of rage.  Filled with hate and vengeance, her thoughts turned to how she would hunt down and kill them all, one by one.  The thoughts brought her the comfort that she had been longing for.  They would all pay and they would pay dearly.  It was all just a matter of time before they would feel the pain she was feeling.  The thoughts brought a sinister grin to RaeAnn’s face.

 

            “I don’t know.  I think we could get better offers for this,” Rachel commented.

“Well, we’d better decide pretty soon.  Otherwise, someone might find out what’s going on,” Victor snapped at her, his voice taking a nasty tone. 

“Don’t take that tone with me, Victor.  Maybe if you hadn’t had RaeAnn Schwartz killed, we wouldn’t have to deal with this!”

Victor, more full of fury than ever before, lunged at Rachel.  She backed up in terror, but he was too quick.  Rachel felt the air leave her body as his huge hands took a strong grip around her throat.  He pushed her at the wall, lifting her off her feet slightly.  Squeezing her eyes shut, Rachel felt she might die.  Maybe it would be for the best though.  Then she could get the guilt off her chest.

            “DON’T YOU EVER TALK TO ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!”  He shouted, shaking her roughly by the neck.  His grip tightened and Rachel felt the blood start to drain from her face.  She was surprised she hadn’t been strangled yet.  Finally, he let go.  She collapsed to the ground, gasping so hard that it hurt.  Rachel lay on the ground for a long time after that, trying to breathe in all the air she could possibly handle.  When she had gathered up enough strength to pull herself to her feet, she noticed that Victor had walked away.  It didn’t surprise her in the slightest.  She sighed deeply and trudged up to the bedroom.  Victor wasn’t there, so she crawled into bed and tried to calm herself down a little bit.  She almost wished he had killed her.  Then her guilt would be gone.

 

 

            RaeAnn began to search through her closet.  She had the desire to become someone else in death and mask her identity.  She figured that if she dressed in black and simply became a creature of the night, that would do the trick.  The crow observed as RaeAnn dressed for the fatal occasion.  She slid into a pair of tight, black, leather pants that David had given her as a gift.  He had always liked them, but she had never had a chance to wear them.  There was a first time for everything.  A black tank top sat on the edge of the bed.  She had worn it recently, apparently, otherwise it would have been stuffed in the dresser.  She pulled it over her head and laced up a pair of old combat boots she had found.  Then she headed for the bathroom.

            Makeup lay scattered across the bathroom.  She had to search a moment before finding the white clown makeup she had used for Halloween.  She caked layer upon layer of the white paint onto her face, masking any type of human face.  She was simply a shape now.  RaeAnn spotted her black eyeliner on the sink and snatched it.  Using it, she traced long teardrop-looking lines down her face and an ironic, permanent smile around her lips.  Covering her lips in black lipstick and, just for effect, her nails in black polish, she felt ready for a morbid battle.

            Before she could leave, she had to grab one more thing.  In the downstairs closet hung David’s long, black, leather coat.  It seemed necessary, considering it was Minneapolis and the winter was about ready to set in.  RaeAnn pulled it tightly around her body, tying the leather sash.  She could smell David’s cologne on it, and the memory of the smell brought tears to her eyes.  Blinking them away, she remembered why she was there.  She would be with David soon.  Now there was work to do.  She just had to make one quick stop.  Upon stepping out the door, she noticed something.  David’s ring lay on the floor by her feet.  She picked it up and slid it carefully onto her thumb.  It was the only finger it would fit, but it fit it well.

 

            Nick sat on the edge of his bed, reading the newspaper.  He had been trying to do anything lately to keep his mind off of RaeAnn, but that had proved itself impossible long ago.  Throwing the paper to the floor, he pulled out a cigarette.  He lit in quickly and inhaled deeply.  Breathing out the smoke, he felt a bit of depression and sorrow go out with it.  It was only a little bit though, not enough to really do any good.  He sighed.

            Suddenly, someone grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth, putting it out with their finger.

“What-”

“I told you not to smoke these things, Nick,” he heard an all too familiar voice lecture, “they’ll kill you.”

Nick sat up abruptly and spun around.  His eyes widened in shock.

“Quit gawking, Nick.  God, you act like you’ve never seen me before,” said RaeAnn, who just happened to be sitting next to his pillows.

“But, you’re...”

“Dead?”

Nick slowly nodded, his eyes looking RaeAnn over.

            RaeAnn smiled slightly, the makeup fading whatever charm may have been left in it.  The crow flew in through the window and landed next to her.  Nick stared at it.  It was back.

“Yeah, that could pose a problem.”

“Problem?” Asked Nick, intrigued, but still staring at the crow.

“I have to find the people who killed me.  I have a feeling that they will act the same way as you.”

“Yeah, with good reason.”

“I guess.  It’s not everyday you see some dead chick in black leather coming after you,” she supposed, cracking a dry laugh.

            “Nick, I really need to know what happened to us that night.  Do you know anything that could help me?  If you do, I really need to know.”

Nick took a deep breath.

“RaeAnn, you have to understand, this whole thing has been really hard on me.  It would be very difficult for me to tell you anything.”

“Nick, please.”

He saw the sad look in her brown eyes and knew that he had to say something.  He looked down at the bed.

“All right.  All I know is that your house was broken into.  They stole your painting.  That new one you did.”

“I know.  Do you have any clue who it could have been?  Does anyone?”

“No one has any idea, Rae.  This whole thing was just kind of, well, put aside.  You guys both...died.  And your whole family is dead.  David’s family lives far away, so they aren’t exactly antagonizing the cops to get this case solved.  Everything went on the back burner, to put it lightly.”  Nick didn’t want to look at her.  He didn’t want to see the look on her face after he had told her that.

            “Well, that is just wonderful.  So, no one really gives a shit that we were brutally murdered.  That’s great.”

“I do, RaeAnn,” Nick spoke, his voice full of pain.

That’s when RaeAnn noticed the lines under Nick’s eyes.

“Nick, when was the last time you really slept?”

“You mean real sleep?  Not the drugged up kind?”

“Yeah?”

“About a month ago.”

“Nick!  My god, you’re killing yourself!  What is all this?”  She asked, looking at the dozens of bottles of pills and Jack Daniels on the nightstand.

“That, is my therapy, RaeAnn.”

“Nick, I want you to get some sleep.  Just lay down for a bit, okay?”

            Nick was tired, so he did what she said and pulled the blankets over his body.  He could feel her lying next to him, running her fingers through his hair.  It was so soothing that he found himself drifting off to sleep moments later.  When she knew that he was asleep, RaeAnn gathered up the pill bottles.  She took her time flushing all the pills down the toilet.  She knew he didn’t need any of them.  They were all just sleeping pills.  She emptied all the Jack Daniels into the sink and bid Nick goodnight.  It was time to leave. 

 

            Wildcat swung the barstool around and stumbled clumsily out of the bar.  The scent of alcohol thickly coated his breath as he walked down the street.  Minneapolis looked a lot different in the dark of night.  The music was loud and the people were crazy.  There were those like Wildcat who preyed on the weak, then there were the weak who wanted to get away.  There wasn’t much more in between.  Except for those who just didn’t care.

            Staggering down one of the alleys in an attempt to find a shorter way to the warehouse, Wildcat noticed a dim light at the end of it.  A small fire sparked amongst the heaps of garbage and people. Despite the fact that it was still somewhat summer, Minnesota was notorious for its early winters and freezing temperatures.  The homeless that took refuge in that alley didn’t want to take their chances battling the cold.  Most people did their best to stay away from that part of the city.  They didn’t want to know it was there.  Wildcat didn’t care; he just wanted to get home.

            Crossing the street, Wildcat entered another alley.  This one was different.  It was entirely dark with only a single person occupying it.  She was about ten feet from where he stood.  She looked up.  Wildcat blinked his eyes, trying to bring them into focus.  Although he could tell she was a woman, she didn’t look human.  Her face was completely white.  Dead white, for that matter, with black lines drawn on it.  Dressed in all black leather, she looked good.  Wildcat knew better though, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“What are you supposed to be?”  He asked loudly, making an attempt to mask his fear.  She gave him the creeps, although he wasn’t sure why quite yet.

“The Grim Reaper,” she answered, her painted smile turned evil.

            Wildcat reached for his gun.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” she stated, standing up.

“And who do you plan on taking with you to the other side, if you don’t mind my asking?” He almost laughed, becoming somewhat interested in this game of hers.

“Why, Wildcat, don’t you know?  You.”

Her eyes filled with hatred and Wildcat forgot to ask her who she knew his name.  Pulling out his gun, he fired one shot.  The bullet hit RaeAnn square in the face.  For a moment, she was taken aback, and Wildcat could see that the bullet had hit right under her left eye.  Then, before his shocked eyes, her dead skin closed the wound that refused to bleed.  She looked at him and started to laugh.

“Is that all you’ve got?”  She asked, patronizing him.

She began to walk closer to Wildcat.

            Now terrified and confused, Wildcat could think of nothing to do than keep shooting.  RaeAnn kept walking though, seeming to grow stronger with every step with the bullets having no impact on her.  Suddenly, Wildcat stopped and stared down at his gun in horror.

“Oh, no.  Looks like you’re out of bullets, Wildcat.  Too bad,” she cackled.

Wildcat dropped his gun to the ground, prepared to fight.

“Look, lady, I don’t know who you are-”

“Yes, you do!”  RaeAnn almost screamed at him, the anger in her voice echoing throughout the alley.

She grabbed a nearby trash can lid off the ground and sent it flying in his direction.  Before he could dart out of its path, the metal lid hit him directly in the jaw.

            Dark, read blood trickled out of his mouth and off his chin as he collapsed to the ground.  He felt like crying, it hurt so terribly bad.  But he didn’t want this woman, or whatever the hell she was, think that she had gotten the better of him.  It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because seconds later, she was kneeling on ground beside him.  He turned his head to look at her.  She watched him squirm momentarily, then, before he could do anything, she spoke.

“Hurts pretty bad, huh?  Yeah, that’s kind of what it felt like when you busted mine.”

Then she sent her clenched, angry fist into his already aching jaw.

            Wildcat let out a sharp cry of pain.

“God, what the hell did I ever do to you?” He managed to spit out, despite the pain.

“Oh, let’s see.  Murder, to start with,” RaeAnn stated, in her frighteningly calm manner.

“What?”

“Seems you don’t remember.  It’s kind of funny, I didn’t think you would.”

Wildcat made a weak attempt to get back on his feet, but RaeAnn knocked him back to the ground.

“Sit down, Wildcat!  I’m not done yet!”  She shouted, her voice filling his ears as she pinned his wrist to the ground with her tiny hands.

“Now,” she began, “let me refresh your memory.  Three weeks ago, you and three other men killed my husband and I.  Why?  Well, I just don’t know.  It’s your own little sadistic pleasure, I guess.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shut up!  You will let me finish!  You stole my painting and my rings!  Where are they?”

            Wildcat hesitated for a moment.  Unwilling to believe what this woman was saying, he looked at her closer.  She could not be who she claimed to be.  No, he told himself, not wanting to accept any of it.  He remembered when they had killed that woman.  He remembered her praying and screaming her husband’s name after they had killed him.  He remembered her bruised and bloody body and what they had done to her.  The one thing that stuck out in his mind more clearly than anything else was that sound.  The sound that Dark Angel’s boot had made when he had crushed her skull, causing her to die.  Yes, die, the woman was dead.  Yet he saw her at that very moment, dressed up like some kind of psychotic mime.

            “No,” he whispered, his voice sounding haggard. “The woman you are talking about is dead.  You get it?  Dead!  Now I don’t know what this is, but keep this one thing in mind.  DEAD PEOPLE DO NOT COME BACK!  THEY STAY DEAD!”

Wildcat’s mind filled with rage.  He couldn’t believe that he had almost allowed himself to be defeated by this woman.  Wrenching himself out of her grasp, he knocked her to the ground.  RaeAnn leaped to her feet, but Wildcat was ready for her this time. 

            He broke a piece of glass out of the glass door in the vacant building behind them.  He swung the glass in her direction, making all the attempts he could to slice that face open.  RaeAnn dodged its path every time and finally grew tired of watching his measly effort.  It was getting sickening.  She knew he was going to die anyway.  Swinging her leg hard, she kicked the glass out of his hand.  It hit the ground, but didn’t shatter.  When he reached for it, she stepped on it, cracking it into tiny pieces of glassy snow.

            With her newly acclaimed strength that she had possessed since crawling out of the grave, she grabbed Wildcat and threw him roughly though the glass door.  He lay on the concrete floor of the vacant building.  Blood and shattered glass surrounded him in an ocean of red and white.  RaeAnn wandered over to where he lay and sat down hard on his waist, leaving him unable to even try to stand.  The crow flew in silently and landed on her left shoulder.

“Wildcat, I am going to ask you this one last time,” she told him, as he lay beneath her, struggling to breathe.  “Where are my rings and my painting?”

“I am not telling you anything, you psychotic little bitch!”  His words escaped him slowly, with pauses in between them as he desperately sucked in air.

            RaeAnn looked down beside herself and picked up a large, jagged piece of glass.  Holding it to Wildcat’s throat, she pressed hard enough to scare him.  She would wait on killing him.  Wildcat thought over his options.  He knew that he would die if he didn’t tell her what she wanted.  If he told her, Dumas would have his head on a stick, but he may be able to save his own skin for now.

“All right, all right.  God, put that thing down.”

She pressed harder.

“Okay!  The painting is with Victor.  Unless he sold it.  And he gave your rings to his stupid girlfriend, Rachel.  Now would you ease up a little?”  He gasped.

“Who are the others?”

“What others?”

“The other killers, you idiot!  Tell me their names!”

“Oh, them,” he suddenly began to realize how much trouble he was going to be in. “Well, there’s Clash, Scorpion, and Dark Angel.”

“And where might I find them?”

“Victor and Rachel live in this warehouse outside of the city.”

“And the rest?”

“I don’t know!  Just look around!  You found me!  They can’t be too difficult.”

            RaeAnn relaxed for a moment, thinking about everything Wildcat had just told her.  She had three more to deal with.  Almost forgetting that he was underneath her, she felt his stomach rise.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Wildcat.”

There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes.  Maybe for a second he believed that he was going to live.  He was wrong.  RaeAnn raised the glass from his throat and drove it fast into his chest, cutting through the breastbone and slicing his heart in two.  She smiled, watching the blood run tiny rivers down his body and onto the ground.  Pulling a small paintbrush out of the pocket of David’s coat. 

            With the help of Wildcat’s blood, RaeAnn drew the outline of a huge crow around his body.  She closed his eyes, purely because she couldn’t handle looking into the eyes of the dead.  Putting the brush away, she stepped out of the building and back into the alley.  Wildcat’s gun lay about a yard from her.  Placing it in another pocket, she brushed the tiny fragments of glass off herself and left the murderous scene.  Close behind, the crow followed.

 

            “What do you mean ‘he’s dead’?”  Victor Dumas shouted at Scorpion, fury in his dark eyes.

“I mean, he is lying in an alley off of First Avenue with his insides on the outside.  He is dead.”  Scorpion asserted, lighting a cigarette with the greatest of ease.

Rachel started to pace.  Back and forth, over and over, her heels clicking on the cement floor.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” She asked Victor, he blue eyes wild with fear, “someone knows.  Someone knows what we did and now we are paying for it-”

“Shut up!” Victor ordered.  “No one knows, have you got that?  Now you just keep your panicking little mouth shut.”

“Really, Rachel.  Anyone could have killed him.  He had a lot of enemies.  In fact, I think he only had enemies,” Scorpion said, his tone only half reassuring.

“Do you really believe that?” She asked.

            Rachel left the room.  Once she entered the bedroom, she collapsed into bed, twisting the rings off her fingers again.  Only this time, she noticed something.  There was some sort of inscription carved on the inside of the wedding band.  Turning on the bedside lamp, she examined it closer.  Then the words came into focus.  Love Always, David, it read.  Tears sprang to Rachel’s eyes.  What had she done?  A perfectly happy and wonderful life was gone.  And she had helped destroy it.

           

            Alongside RaeAnn, the crow had perched itself on the rooftop of Nick’s apartment building.  RaeAnn had come back to see how he was doing, but upon finding him asleep, found it better to leave him alone.  Instead, she stood guard on his rooftop, with the rain soaking her body.  She found that in death she had learned to appreciate the rain.  The only thing she disliked about it now was that it reminded her of how David would protect her from it.  She used to feel so safe in the storms because she knew he would protect her and keep her safe from her fear.  Now she felt safe in them because she was untouchable.  Sill, the memories filled her mind and she was too overcome with emotion to continue standing.  She sat down next to the crow, watching her long legs dangle off the side of the building and letting her tears mix in with the rain.

 

            Scorpion began wandering aimlessly throughout the warehouse.  Rachel and Victor had been sleeping for hours and he was alone.  Having nothing else to do, he decided he would do what every other one of them did when they were bored.  Walking through Minneapolis, he finally found a nightclub that seemed halfway entertaining. It was loud with music and people, so he felt he could probably do anything he pleased in there.  Deep down, he was thinking about Wildcat’s death.  Everyone knew he had enemies and that he probably should have been dead long ago.  There was something about his death that was starting to bother him.  Scorpion sat at the end of the bar and ordered two shots of tequila.

            At the other end of the bar, RaeAnn sat watching the crowd.  She fit in quite nicely with all of them.  Everyone there was dressed in black leather, some not bothering to conceal scarcely a bit of skin.  They were all covered in tattoos and piercing in the most obscure body parts one could think of.  Black and white makeup was also becoming a common trend amongst the people.  She grinned, as she listened to Marilyn Manson cover “I Put a Spell on You”.  The song fit her mood.  Her grin faded as she noticed a familiar face sitting on the other end of the bar.

 

He drew his gun, taking his time to load it.  RaeAnn held her breath, feeling every agonizing second cutting like a knife.  Finally, he was ready.  The other man held David up.  David glanced at RaeAnn with tears in his eyes.  I love you, he mouthed, his eyes never leaving hers.  Then it happened.  The shot was fired.  David went down.  David was dead.

 

RaeAnn cringed and inhaled deeply, taking in all the pain of the memory.  She exhaled then, and watched as the bartender poured another shot of tequila.  That was when she decided to make her move.

            Slowly walking over to where Scorpion was sitting, she grabbed his shot glass and poured the drink down her throat.

“You Scorpion?”  She asked roughly, before he could even say anything about the drink.

“Who wants to know?”  He asked, looking down at the empty shot glass, which RaeAnn had placed in front of him.

“I have to speak to you about Victor.”

“You here about the painting?”

An ironic smile covered her face.

“Why, yes.  Yes, I am,” she answered, truthfully.

“Well, talk.”

“Alone.”  It was more of a demand than a request. 

            All the way upstairs, to the third level of the club, was a secluded, VIP lounge.  No one seemed to be taking much care as to who went up there, so RaeAnn led Scorpion to the area.  There was railing around the area that overlooked the stage thirty feet below.  RaeAnn walked around to the other end of the room so she was as far from the door as possible.  Then she sat down on a couch nearby.  Scorpion looked her over.  She seemed strange.  Stranger than most of the people at that club and that was pushing it.

“You don’t look like one of Victor’s usual cliental.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Scorpion didn’t know how to interpret that answer.  So he ignored it and moved on.

“You’re not here about the painting, are you?”

“Well, I actually am.  But I don’t think I’ll be buying it,” she answered, crossing her legs and making herself more comfortable.

“What, you think you’re just going to steal it?”  He asked with a short laugh.

“No, Scorpion.  You see, stealing is wrong.  I’m simply taking it back.”

“Taking it back?  What the hell is that supposed to mean.  And how did you know my name?”

“Funny, Wildcat never asked me that question.  But he told me your name.  Now, you stole my painting.  So I am taking it back.”

            Scorpion seemed taken aback for a moment.

“What did you say?”

“What, about the painting?”  A cynical smile took over her face.  She was truly enjoying herself.

“About Wildcat.”

“Oh, yeah.  I was the last thing he saw before I shoved that glass into his chest.”  Her smile didn’t fade.

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe I am.  But then again, how would I have known where to find you, Scorpion?”

Scorpion stared at her.  She was telling the truth.  She had to be. 

“Who are you?”

“My name is RaeAnn Schwartz.” She stated, folding her arms across her chest.

            A fit of broken laughter escaped Scorpion at that moment.  He sounded as if he were going insane.  But just then, the laughter ended as abruptly as it had begun.  He grabbed a large blade out of his black leather vest.  He would have gone for the gun, but he wasn’t ready to kill her.  Advancing on RaeAnn and holding the knife to her pale throat, he whispered his threat.

“Now, you listen and you listen good.  Nobody screws around with me like this, you got it?  No one. Now, I will give you two seconds to tell me who you really are, or I’ll slit you open ear to ear.  Understand?”

RaeAnn didn’t even flinch.  She held fast, maintaining that fearless

attitude she had adapted in death.

“Well,” she whispered back, in almost a seductive tone, “I guess you can start cutting.  Because, as you already know, I’m already dead.”

            Crying out in either rage or maybe just sheer irritation, he wasn’t sure which, Scorpion sliced the left side of RaeAnn’s neck clear open.  He smiled then, satisfied that whoever this idiot was, she had finally learned her lesson.  His arrogant smile faded fast when he looked at her closer and noticed something he never would have expected.  She wasn’t bleeding.  There wasn’t even a wound on her neck.  He glanced at the knife again, but knowing full well that he had cut her.  There was blood on the knife.  Staring wide eyed and shocked, Scorpion tried as hard as he could to come up with some logical explanation for what he had just seen. 

            RaeAnn looked at him, watching him trying to reason with his mind.

“Pretty scary, huh?”

Scorpion continued gaping at her.  Swiftly, RaeAnn closed her cold hands around his throat.  He gasped hard, flailing his arms wildly.  She knocked him into the wall, hard enough to knock the wind out of most people.

“Let me go-”

“Keep your mouth shut, Scorpion!”  RaeAnn’s voice screamed loudly, almost above the music and chaos below them.

“You crazy-”

“I told you to keep your mouth shut!”  RaeAnn delivered a sharp punch to his stomach.  Scorpion fell to the floor, amazed that any woman could hit that hard.  He scanned the room for any means of escape.  Then he saw the door.  It seemed miles away, but in reality, was only on the other end of the room.  He would have to run. 

            RaeAnn saw him take notice of the door.  Before she could stop him, he was up and running.  He didn’t get far.  RaeAnn grabbed the back of his head and smashed his skull into the metal railing.  He winced in pain and she thought he was going to collapse.  To her surprise he didn’t, but he wasn’t going any closer to the door.  He held his head, which was bleeding slightly.  RaeAnn grabbed his arm and swung him clear over the railing, clenching his belt.

“Tell me something, Scorpion,” she requested, “how does it feel to have someone else control whether you live or die?”

He didn’t answer, so she let him drop a little.  To the point where she was only holding him by the ankles.  He had a good thirty feet to drop, straight into a party of people too drunk to take notice of him.

“Answer me!”

            Scorpion was too terrified to respond. 

“Well, I’ll just leave you with some lasting words then.  This is not murder.  This is justice.  Justice for what you did to my husband and I.  Justice for the murder of two innocent people.”

RaeAnn felt a wave of emotion wash over her then, but it was quickly gone.  The rage came back at full force.  She let go of Scorpion.  She heard him scream and watched as his body crashed down onto the bar.  Everyone suddenly leaped away in disgust and horror, as screams filled the building.  The crow landed on RaeAnn’s shoulder once again, and without a second thought, she plucked two black feathers from its wing. One for her and one for David.  The crow uttered not a sound, so she threw the feathers over the railing, letting them drift down to Scorpion’s bleeding body.  The bartender grabbed one and looked up to where they had fallen from.  By the time he looked, RaeAnn was already gone.

 

            “You can’t sell it!  Don’t you understand?  She wants it back!”

“ ‘She?’  Rachel, just what the hell are you talking about, ‘she’?”  Victor was trying to ignore her and make arrangements for “The Red Lady” to be sold.

“RaeAnn Schwartz!”  Rachel screamed, the name echoing across every inch of the warehouse.

Victor struck Rachel hard across the face, sending her flying into the wall.  She instinctively recovered quickly and looked up at Victor.

“Rachel, listen to me!  RaeAnn Schwartz is dead!  Dead!  Do you understand the meaning of the word?”

            Unable to answer, Rachel put her hand to her face, finding it bloody.  She had felt his fist come into contact with one of her teeth.  Worried, she scrambled off the floor and ran to the bathroom.  Upon further examination, she found that one of her teeth was hanging out of her upper gum.  She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and pulled down on it.  It popped out of her gum fully and she threw it down the drain.  Her mouth filled with blood, so she washed it out as much as she could.  Back downstairs to the kitchen, she found an icepack in the freezer.  She pushed it against her bleeding gum, hoping it would help.  Victor had vanished once again, not to her surprise at all.  She grabbed a bottle of aspirin and some vodka, awaiting a drunken, numbing slumber.

“God, I hate you so much, Victor,” she muttered, leaving the room.

 

 

            The window was open again.  The cool breeze of a storm past blew past him, tickling the back of his neck.  Nick rolled over.

“RaeAnn?”  He asked, his voice slurry from sleep.  The room was dark and empty.  The bottles which had occupied his nightstand where missing.  He knew she had been there.  Even though it was impossible, he knew it.  Besides, who else would have thrown out those bottles of pills and booze?  Nick threw the covers off his body and sat up.  It was early morning, so the light of the new day had not yet made its appearance in the city.  Stretching, he decided he would go back to RaeAnn’s house.  It was the only way that he could think of to prove to himself that the night before had truly happened.

            Nick had not been to the house since the day of the murder.  He had not seen the yellow police tape outlining the house.  The last time he had been there, the house had been filled with RaeAnn’s work.  That work was presently lying destroyed throughout the studio.  Bloodstains were on the floor, as well as two chalk outlines drawn by people all to used to that sort of thing. Upon setting his eyes on the gruesome reality of his environment, Nick ran to the second floor fast, feeling he was going to be sick.  To his horror, a small set of muddy footprints led him up to the bathroom.  If that wasn’t already enough, he threw open the bathroom door to see RaeAnn’s muddy, wet burial gown stuffed in the garbage can.  He knew it to be her gown.  That was something he could never have forgotten.  Nick felt his insides churning and before he could make his way to the sink, he collapsed to the ground, vomiting in sheer terror and shock.

            “Nick?”

He felt her cold, resurrected hand on his back and she helped him sit back up.  His body was covered in sweat, his face a mess of tears.

“My god, Nick.  Oh, look at you.”  He could see the pain in his friend’s eyes and he knew that she wasn’t angry with him.  He was afraid that for some reason, she would be.  RaeAnn grabbed a wet washcloth, cleaning the sweat and tears from Nick’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Rae.  I’m sorry...” he muttered, taking the washcloth from her and clenching it in his fist.

“For what?”

“For not being there to protect you.  I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

The tears starting trailing down his face in tiny rivers once again.  He was beginning to wonder if they had ever actually stopped.

“Nick, this is not your fault.  Do you understand?”

            RaeAnn eyed him closely.  Nick nodded, wishing that there were something he could do, anything. 

“I know.  But I also screwed up our friendship, RaeAnn.  I mean, how would you like that to be the last thing that you ever said to someone?”

“What, that you loved me, Nick?  That didn’t ruin our friendship.  It took me by surprise, Nick.  You can’t drive yourself crazy because of that.  I love you too.  You’re my friend.  If you weren’t, I certainly would not have bothered coming back around you once I died.”  She smiled at him.  For a second, she thought she saw a genuine smile from him.

“Why are you even over here now anyway?  It’s four in the morning.”

“I don’t know.  I think I needed to show myself that last night actually happened.”

“Go back to sleep, Nick.  You need sleep anyway.  You can sleep in my bed, God knows I won’t be using it anymore.  Bernie is the only one using it now.”

 

            “Great, that’s two...” Rachel heard Victor mumble.  She was crouched down in a small closet in their bedroom.  He didn’t know she was there.  Rachel had managed to obtain one of Scorpion’s small handguns from another room.  So she sat with the gun clutched in her sweaty palms.  Never in her life had she ever even laid her hands on one.  She was sure of one thing though now.  Victor would never hurt her again, ever.

“Rachel!”  She heard him call, leaving the room to look for her.

She put the gun in the waistband of her pants and hid the rest of it with her long shirt.  She would do whatever he said unless he hurt her.

           

            Perched on the roof of the house like a gargoyle, RaeAnn thought about David. It had been several hours since Nick’s visit.  As far as she knew, he was still inside the house, sound asleep.  She couldn’t think of him though, she could only think of David.  No matter what was happening, he was always on her mind.  The killings had only temporarily numbed the pain.  It soon returned, rearing its ugly head.  That horrible pain the cut into her soul, twisted her heart, and left her feeling nothing but solid hatred.  But there wasn’t time for reflections now, she decided.  Now it was time to hunt.

            Kicking a discarded beer bottle down the unusually quiet city street, Clash sighed.  It was late.  The streets were empty, with the exception of the usual sleeping bums.  He was becoming nervous.  Though he had attempted to push the thoughts out of his mind, all he could think of was Scorpion and Wildcat’s deaths.  He didn’t know if he really wanted to believe the rumor that RaeAnn Schwartz was haunting the streets of Minneapolis.  He didn’t want to rule it out either though, knowing now that anything was possible.  Whatever had happened, he knew he had to watch his back.  If that thing had taken out both Scorpion and Wildcat, he knew he was screwed if he got caught.

            Twisting his wedding ring around nervously, he thought of his wife.  She had long since died and he wondered if it was her death that had messed him up so much.  If she was still alive, he wouldn’t be wandering that street, scared to meet his certain doom.  He would be back at the house, in bed with her.  Warm and safe and happy.  He was starting to wish he never had become adapted to the criminal life.

            Suddenly, his train of thought was broken.  He heard a noise.  It was the cawing of a bird, but what bird would be out cawing that late at night?  He turned to see RaeAnn above him, one story to be precise, on the roof of an old abandoned gas station.

“So it is true...”

“It sure is,” she responded, smiling.

Clash noticed a sudden shine of something in RaeAnn’s left hand.  He took a closer look and realized it was a long chain.  He backed up slightly, but that slight movement set her off.  Like a cat on the prowl, RaeAnn leaped down to him and stood barely inches from his face.  The scent of her husband’s cologne mixed with that of spent blood filled his nostrils.  He wanted to back up, but didn’t dare.

“Hi, Clash.”

            Clash couldn’t help but stare.  All he could remember was how beautiful the woman standing in front of him had been before they had torn her to shreds.  Now she looked even worse.  All the beauty that had at least been with her before she died had been violently stolen from her.  It was replaced with the cold, faceless creature that stood before him.  Clash couldn’t think of ever being more scared in his entire life.  He turned to run, but felt the cold metal chain wrapping around his neck.  As he struggled to breathe, RaeAnn tightened the chain all the more.  Clash felt as if his eyes were going to pop out of his skull.  Just then, one of her long, delicate fingers grazed the back of his neck and he remembered.  He had been the one that had strangled her after she had watched her husband die.  Now he was feeling her pain. 

A realization came over him then.  What RaeAnn was doing was justice.  He deserved it.  He deserved every agonizing, torturing moment of pain.  It was something that he never would have even thought he could imagine before.  There was something inside of him, however, telling him he deserved it.  Whether it is some conscience that he had suddenly stirred up, he didn’t know.  All he really knew was that it was there, and nothing but remorse consumed him.  Unexpectedly, she stopped tightening the chain.  She eased up and let him breathe.  The second she let go of the chain, Clash crumpled to the ground.  Gasping hard, he felt his heart pounded fiercely in his already aching chest.  He swallowed and rolled over.  She was standing directly above him.  Fear took hold of Clash again, as she lowered herself to the street, next to him.

“You’re the first.”

“The first what?” Clash choked out, grasping his neck, trying to soothe away the pain.

She looked him directly in the eyes and he couldn’t believe he had ever seen a greater sadness in any human beings’ eyes.  Her hands cupped his face and she pressed her index fingers firmly against his temples.

            It came again.  That awful pain was back.  This time, it wasn’t only the pain.  There was more.  Bloody images clouded his vision.  There was the fear and terror that had raced through RaeAnn’s mind that fateful night.  Then the sadness returned.  It was the sadness of seeing her husband murdered in front of her very eyes.  It was the sadness of knowing that their life together was over after it had only just begun.  It was all more than Clash could bear. 

            When RaeAnn released him, Clash realized that his eyes were full of tears.

“I’m so sorry...” Clash’s voice was bursting with remorse.

“I know you are.  I said you were the first.”

RaeAnn sat quietly for a moment, examining her options.  She stared at the ground for what seemed like forever, then looked back at Clash.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she said, “I think you know what to do.”

RaeAnn stood, took one last look at the mess she had reduced Clash to, and walked away.  The crow followed her in a seemingly obedient manner, soaring through the darkness.  As she neared the end of the street, she heard Clash’s gun go off.  She never looked back.

 

            So far he hadn’t touched her.  He was too frustrated.  Rachel lay in bed, wishing she were asleep.  She could feel Victor sitting next to her, swearing under his breath.  He was saying something about all of his men being killed. Victor had finally given into the idea that it was RaeAnn killing all of them.  Of course, Rachel had taken no credit for that. Dark Angel was the only one left and he was slinking around the warehouse somewhere.  So if RaeAnn tried to kill him, she would probably go after her and Victor as well.  Then she remembered the gun she had stashed under the mattress.

“Aha!” Victor suddenly proclaimed.

“What?” Rachel asked, tired and getting very annoyed.

“Think about it Rachel.  RaeAnn’s dead, right?  There is no point in shooting her or stabbing her.  It wouldn’t do any good.”

“Yeah...”

“Well, something has to be giving her that invincibility.  And do you know what that something is?”

“What?”

“It’s that bird.  That big ugly thing that Clash tried to shoot.  Think about it.  Why else would Wildcat have had that bird drawn around him?”

“And the feathers on Scorpion?”  She asked, humoring him.  She didn’t dare tell him that she had thought of the same thing earlier.  He wouldn’t have believed her anyway.

“Exactly.  So, all we have to do is kill that bird.  Kill the bird, kill the girl.  Again.”

            Rachel pulled the gun out from under the mattress and rolled over on her side so she could face Victor.

“Victor, what makes you think it’s going to be that easy?”

“It has to be.”

“Well, it wasn’t that easy to kill her the first time, was it?”

Victor glared at her.  She was really surprised he didn’t slap her.  Her right hand was lying on the gun.  Instead, he stood up and began to plan for RaeAnn’s second murder.

“This time it will be different.”

Rachel slid the gun between the sheets and closed her eyes.

           

            RaeAnn looked at the warehouse.  Victor was in there.  She could feel it.  The crow flew past her and into the dark building.  For the first time since her resurrection, she realized that the bird’s wings made no sound as they flapped.  She found it rather odd.  Stepping inside the warehouse, she searched for signs of life.

“Hello?” She called.  “Victor?  Hey, Victor!  Come out, come out.  Wherever you are.” She called, whistling.

 Unexpectedly, she heard a clomping of boots.  Dark Angel emerged from the shadows of the seemingly empty room, his scars brutally exposed.  He wore no hat or glasses and the hideous scars of his past were written crudely all over his face.  RaeAnn almost felt the urge to turn away.

            In a peculiar way, RaeAnn almost felt sorry for him.  Whatever sense of humanity this man had once possessed, whatever soul he had once carried within him, had been stripped away by something awful.  That was the one thing they shared.  The common bond between the two.  The only difference was that he was still alive.  He was living through his own worst nightmare.  RaeAnn’s nightmare could soon end.  It was almost over.

“I remember you,” she stated, “you’re the man that killed me.”

Dark Angel stared at her blankly, unblinking and uncaring.  His soul seemed wiped away from any existence and replaced by his mask of scars and pain.  RaeAnn didn’t really know how to handle this particular situation.  Dark Angel was so unlike the others.  He was almost inhuman.

            All of a sudden, RaeAnn heard a loud bang from behind Dark Angel.  She frowned as two black feathers fell at her feet.  Something was wrong.  She looked back up just in time to see Dark Angel advance on her.  The man she assumed to be Victor Dumas stood beside him.  She tried to move, but Dark Angel was too quick and grabbed her tightly.  Victor held a switchblade in his hand and shoved it painfully into RaeAnn’s left side.  Dark Angel held her up; otherwise she would have collapsed.

“Well, look at that,”  Victor smiled, pulling a bloody hand away from RaeAnn.  “It worked.”

He looked at Dark Angel. 

“Bring her upstairs.  We’ll finish it there.”

RaeAnn felt the warm blood stick to David’s coat.  She placed her hand at her side in an attempt to stop the flow of blood.  Something was very wrong.

           

            Still in complete disbelief, RaeAnn was led to a large loft.

“RaeAnn?”

She raised her head.  A blonde, blue-eyed girl stood before her.  The girl looked scared to death.

“Of course it’s RaeAnn, Rachel.  Who did you think it was?”  Victor snapped, callously.  Rachel shrank away from him.  Then RaeAnn noticed something.

“My rings!” She shrieked, pointing at Rachel’s left hand and suddenly regaining some of her lost strength.  “Give me those!”

Rachel almost took them off.  She probably would have, had Victor not interfered.

“Why are you listening to her?”

“They are her rings.”

“She’s dead.  They are your rings.”

RaeAnn’s eyes filled with tears, as did Rachel’s as Dark Angel hauled RaeAnn into the adjacent room.

            Upon entrance to the next room, RaeAnn gazed at something she had begun to miss.  “The Red Lady” hung on the opposing wall.

“You killed us for a painting?” RaeAnn suddenly thought to ask of Victor.

“Yeah.”  There was no feeling at all in his voice.  She realized that he felt absolutely no remorse for what had happened.  They had been nothing but a sale to him.

“You bastard.”

            RaeAnn felt something cold and sharp at the base of her neck just then.  Moving her eyes only, she saw Dark Angel’s right hook holding onto her neck.  If she moved, he would cut throat without a second thought.  She needed to remain still.

“You’ve got the painting, Victor.  What do you want with me now?”

“I want you dead.  You killed three of my men.  You think they are going to be easy to replace?  I need to get something out of this.  So I figure if I kill you, maybe I will feel a little better.”

“You can’t kill me twice.”

“Sure, I can.”

“No. If you do, I’ll be cursed to limbo for all eternity.  It’s almost worse than Hell.”

“That doesn’t bother me.”

“Well it bothers me.”

            RaeAnn heard Rachel standing in the doorway.  She couldn’t see her, but she had never been happier to hear someone.  Victor glared at her.

“You aren’t involved in this.  Get out.”

“No, Victor.  Let her go.”

He rolled his eyes.

“This is pathetic.  Kill her.”

Dark Angel raised his hook, but before it could come slicing down through RaeAnn’s throat, a shot rang out.  He hit the ground hard, a bloody bullet hole in his forehead.  RaeAnn looked at Rachel, who was clutching a small handgun in her shaking hands.

“Thanks, Rachel.”

“No problem,” she stuttered, her voice shaky.

“All right, Rachel.  I’ve had enough of this.”

            Victor crossed the room fast and punched Rachel’s face hard.  Rachel didn’t have any time to see it coming and was practically knocked over backwards.  The gun flew from her small hands and directly to Victor.  He grabbed it and pressed it against her temple.  Rachel squeezed her eyes shut tightly, unable to accept anything but this fate.  RaeAnn leaped at him, knocking the gun from his grip.  He tried to move, but it was too late.  She was all over him.  All the hatred that RaeAnn felt was coming at him at full force.  Throwing him to the ground, she beat on him as hard as she could, hitting his face, stomach and sides.  She was almost surprised at how much she was hurting him.  It didn’t matter to her how she hurt him, she just wanted him to feel some sense of what she was feeling. 

            RaeAnn felt someone grab her by the shoulders, pulling her off of Victor and slamming her into the wall.  She fell to the ground, pulled her knees to her chest and covered her face in fear.  Upon realization that no one was coming after her, she took away her hands.  As Victor removed his trembling hands from his face, he looked up to see Rachel standing before him, once again holding the gun.  Her face was covered in an expression of pure psychosis.

“Oh, Rachel, thank God.  Shoot her!”  He gasped hard, attempting to recover from the beating he had just received.  Rachel said absolutely nothing.  She merely stared at him, her blue eyes growing hard and cold.

“What are you doing?  Kill her!”

Nothing. 

“You worthless little bitch!  When I tell you to do something, you do it!  Now shoot-”

            Numbly, Rachel cocked the hammer of the gun and swiftly unloaded the remaining five bullets into Victor’s skull.  The emotionless expression never left her small face.  Slowly, she lowered the gun and turned to RaeAnn.  Staring at her in utter amazement, RaeAnn figured the poor girl must have fantasized about that moment for a long time.  She had never witnessed someone turn so brutal so fast.  Pulling the rings off her hand, Rachel handed them to RaeAnn.

“Here, these are yours.”

The gun crashed to the floor with a loud bang, as Rachel walked towards the door.  RaeAnn noticed that Rachel had begun to shake violently.  It was amazing that she hadn't started crying.  RaeAnn had a feeling she was on the verge of tears.  Before she left, Rachel stopped and gazed back at her.

“I’m sorry, RaeAnn.  I tried to save you, I really did,” she apologized, recalling the hours before the murder.  It seemed a bizarre thing to say, yet nothing in the last few days had made much sense.

“Rachel, you did save me.”  She smiled at Rachel weakly, hoping she would understand.

Thinking about it a moment, Rachel smiled slightly, a tear running down her left cheek.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

She turned then and left, never to return.

 

            With her rings on her left ring finger and “The Red Lady” in her arms, RaeAnn left the building.  Placing the painting in a safe place about six blocks away, she bid it farewell.  She knew it would be safe there. Before she could leave, she washed the makeup off her face.  She didn’t need it anymore.  Her own face was good enough now. Grabbing a gallon of gasoline and a book of matches, she went back to the warehouse.  She poured the gasoline on both Victor and Dark Angel and splashed the remainder of it in a long path outside.  At the end of the path, RaeAnn stood for a moment.

            This was the end of it.  Now she could go home.  With that thought in mind, she lit the book of matches in entirety and dropped it to the gasoline soaked ground.  Before she could turn away, the building was ablaze.  She smiled as she watched the building and the evil inside of it melt away forever.  Now she was truly free.

            RaeAnn turned away, ready to walk towards an unknown destination.  She really didn’t know what to do now.  What was to become of her?  Panic set in, but only for a moment.  All of a sudden, she felt someone take her hand.  She looked to see David standing beside her.

“Hi,” he greeted, a smile on his face.

“Hi,” was all she could think to possibly say back.  Tears of happiness ran down her face.

“Come on, RaeAnn.  Let’s go home.”

She removed the wedding band from her thumb then, and slowly slid it onto her husband’s finger.  Smiling a true smile, she knew that her work was done.  Putting the past behind them, they walked far from the fiery blaze.  They walked on to the place that so many, and in due time all of us, call home.

Epilogue

 

            “Look sir, you are going to have to use another route.  The fire is too large.  We can’t have anyone going near the area.”  The officer was getting sick of repeating the same thing.

“Fine,” Nick finally gave in.  He was getting tired of arguing and would have to start walking those extra blocks to his apartment.  If that wasn’t bad enough, he suddenly felt a drop of rain on his shoulder.  Before he knew it, that raindrop turned into a shower.

            Frustrated, tired, and soaking wet, Nick jammed his key in the lock.  He couldn’t remember feeling more relieved to be home.  Dropping his keys and wet clothes to the floor, he decided to seek refuge in the warm shower.  The last few days and nights had left him permanently shaken and perhaps even slightly disturbed.  He needed nothing more than relaxation, even if it was temporary.  He switched on the radio and stepped into the shower, feeling the beads of hot water trail down his body.  Thinking of nothing going on in his life, he felt at peace.  His sudden lapse of false serenity was quickly shattered though.  The bird was outside the glass shower door.  He could hear it cawing.  Gritting his teeth, he threw open the door.

“Get out!  Get out!  Go!”  He yelled, waving his arms.

            The bird flew out of the bathroom and into Nick’s bedroom.

“Goddamn thing,” he mumbled, grabbing a towel.  We wanted to find something to throw at it.  Expecting to find the crow on his bed, he jumped into the room in an attempt to frighten it.  It was not there.  Instead, it had perched itself on something far more important.  “The Red Lady” was sitting against Nick’s far wall.  He quickly looked around, hoping RaeAnn was somewhere near.  In his heart though, he knew she was gone.  The crow took one final glance at Nick, then flew out the window.

            Early the next morning, Nick sat at RaeAnn’s grave.  He had placed flowers on both her and David’s graves and was getting ready to leave.  He rose and pulled a cigarette out of a near empty pack.  Lighting up, he took one more glance at her tombstone.

“Hey!”  He heard someone yell.

A small blonde stood about twenty feet from him, a bouquet of flowers grasped tightly in her hands.

“Don’t you know those can kill you?  You’re in a graveyard for God’s sake!”  She lectured.

Nick took one last drag and snuffed it out.

“Yeah, I’m quitting,” he said, walking past the girl.

Rachel rolled her eyes as she watched him leave.  She then placed the flowers on the graves.  She ran her hand over the tombstone and smiled.

“Thanks, RaeAnn,” she whispered, “you saved my life.”