2007-04-12: Dancing In Blood


Mitch_icon.gif Gwen_icon.gif Gene_icon.gif Stefanie_icon.gif Sakura_icon.gif

Disparate souls are drawn together by tragedy in an alley near the Fly By Night

April 12, 2007:

Dancing In Blood

Midtown East — Midtown, NYC

With the moon hanging above the crisp, clear night sky of New York, tucked away amidst the bed sheets of many blinking stars, the city seems to have it's typical buzz of energy rumbling through the streets, and along the tall, sky scraping buildings. The Fly by Night seems to be the building of the hour as it has been jam packed full of people wandering in, and out during a special discount hour to try and draw a bit more of the crowd away from their rivals a few blocks away. Ladies drink for free, and the guys get half off all specialties.

"You know, the Giants are going to be the team to beat this year."

"Doubt it. It's gonna be the Jets."

"You really -are- drunk, if you think the Jet's has a chance in hell to even win more than three games."

A cold, withering glare is sent from one to the other as the pair of drinkers enjoy a smoke outside the bar, blowing whispy curls tobacco upwards. As they lean against the side of the building, a bit out of the street's view, nothing seems out of the ordinary, save the soft, sound of a rattle clicking away in the darkness back near the alleyway.


"We got snakes here in New Yawk?"


"Sure? Sounds like a rattler back there."

"Then go check it out, Bear Grylls."

With a sly look passed from the smart ass, to the other, his eyes all but dare him to go take a gander down into the darkness.

"Pff.. Fuck you, man."

Pushing and elbowing her way out of Fly By Night is another patron of the bar, surrounded by a gaggle of other twentysomething women, is Mitch Kaminski. For her evening out, her glasses have been shunned, her brown-and-blonde hair has been twisted into bobbing curls, her make-up has been done neatly and she's wearing a little grass green jersey dress and appropriate bling. She's stumbling and laughing racuously with her friends as she reaches the sidewalk, obviously having had a few of the cocktails Fly By Night is known for. A few or… several.

Once again, Gwen is fleeing the scene of the Fly By Night. Another misunderstanding as to who would pay the bill and there's no Benjamin to hide and pretend to be his girlfriend. And then break out into song. Oh no. So this time she goes skittering out of the bar in her high heels, a martini glass still in hand and quickly ducks down a convenient alleyway in order to hopefully get away from the man who now wants money that she doesn't have. Whups. As for the rattling and clicking? She doesn't take any notices of it.
"Don't be a bitch. Man up."

The smart ass continues to taunt his smoking companion as he takes another slug off a purple, and golden can with the bright logo of MP scrawled along the aluminum side.

Man up? He practically has to go now. His masculinity is practically in question, not to mention the five drinks he's already thrown down. He glances back down the dark alley again for a moment, before straightening his shoulders.

"Fine.. fine. Fucker. I'll go check it out then. But, you can't bitch up and hang back here. You're coming with me."

"Sure, whatever dries the eyes, pussy."

With that, the pair head down the alley with only the faint glow of their cigarettes in the darkness, before they're snuffed out rather quickly. For those who may be perceptive, would have heard a muffled scream of surprise, followed by a crunch of pain.

Ticka Ticka Ticka
Ticka Ticka Ticka
Ticka Ticka Tick!

The rattling is practically excited now as it turns a bit sharper in volume, before disappearing all together. Nothing but a quiet night here in New York City beneath the neon lights, and the rush of traffic.

Stefanie makes her way through Midtown, her usual Saturday night spent amongst the throng of club-goers and bar-hoppers. Does she join them? No… Something about being 5 years too young and being too conscionable to carry a fake ID prevents her from going into the buildings, which is fine anyways. She's not attracted to alcohol, just the groups of people who follow the sheep-mentality that comes with drinking and clubbing. She makes her way by the Fly By Night and takes a glance at her surroundiungs.

Discounts at bars /rule/. Mitch, initially completely oblivious to anything untoward going on, is all about having a good time tonight - as are her friends, who she lingers around the entrance with outside, laughing and carrying on. But they have other plans for the night, which Mitch isn't in on, namely because said plans involve a person she doesn't like, and the feeling is mutual, yadda yadda. Alas, intricate social circles. Oh well. She'll make her own fun for what's left of the evening. Even if it means dancing around her apartment by herself. "Bye! Call me, bitches!" As her friends wander off, Mitch starts traipsing down the sidewalk; before she's about to head past a certain alley, she stops. What was that? Even while tipsy, her investigative instincts are always on in the background. She peeers around the corner, probably less sneakily than she thinks.

The men pass right by Gwen on their way down to investigate whatever it is they're investigating. However, the woman stays pressed up against the brick wall she's hiding by. As she's right by them, it's hard to miss the screams and crunching. "Everything okay back there?" She doesn't even wait for a response. "Okay! Great! Good! You just keep doing what you're doing. With the screaming and stuff. I'm going to go the other way!" And quickly, she wheels around and goes flying around the corner. Right into Mitch. A squeal and pushing and cattiness follows. "Don't touch me there! RAPE! RAPE!"

Stefanie faintly hears something… and in New York City it could be anything. Something completely innocent, or something completely sinister. She reaches into her purse and grabs a can of something… Looks like one of those air horns you'd bring to a sporting event…. It's legal, and it'll still hurt like the dickens when you blow it into a would-be-rapists ear. Stef's dads didn't raise no fool…. Or maybe they did, since she decides to make her way down the alleyway slowly, keeping an eye on the other two men up ahead of her for any sign of trouble.

At first, Mitch sees Gwen hurrying down the alley, even if the other woman doesn't see /her/ — but the tipsy little journalist is too preoccupied with peering into the darker part of the alley to realize what's about to happen. *BUMP*. She lets out a short-lived, girly shriek as she's collided with, throwing up her arms, shooting Gwen a wide-eyed, incredulous stare. "SHHHhhhh!" She lowers her voice into a harsh whisper, blameful and conspiratorial all at once. "You're the one ramming into ME inapprop— wow, that went to a … a place, there. Uh. Sorry. Shut up!" She reaches out as if to grab Gwen's arm and pull her out of the alley all the way. "There's like- -there'sss like," she … slurs a little. "Something mysterious. You're gonnaa scare the mystery away, short stuff."

In the distance, about forty or so feet away from Gwen and Mitch, a man hears the cry of a woman. He isn't sure who it is or what she's saying, but she seems to be in need. "Did you hear that?" the young man inquires of his two companions, both appearing in their late to mid twenties, male, and the kind of look that make girls claim they have 'wonderful personalities'.

"Noooo, I didn't. Come on, Gene, likely someone having a good time. Let's just get into the club, me and Todd can have a few drinks and you can drive us home. It's fun."

"Sorry, guys, but I have to check it out… Just in case!" Gene replies, merely starting to run off toward the source of the screams, excusing himself to whoever he might bump into. If there are a lot of people around you'll likely be able to trail him using the string of 'excuse me!' that go down the street.

The second man looks toward the first. "Should we check on Gene and make sure he doesn't get into trouble? I mean he's our DD and I think my Jack Russel could beat him in a fistfight."

"We'll just call a cab."

"Good man. To booze!"

With that, Gene's co-workers and 'friends' leave him to whatever situation he soon finds himself getting into.
As the three ladies make their way down along the sidewalk, even though two of them are quick to get into a misunderstanding scuffling of 'Stranger Danger', the pair of men who disappeared down the alley a few minutes ago has yet to make their way back. With the darkness flooding through the non lit alleyway, it is hard to make out any shapes, save the outline of the fire escape which leads down from the top of the building, where an exit light illuminates it.

"Yo, Eric, where you at?!" A voice calls out from the entrance of the bar as the young man glances left, then right, before rubbing the back of his neck. "Mother fucker probably got a cab and bailed me here. Gah'dammit. That's just like the prick." When he catches sight of the women gathering near the mouth of the alley, he lifts a brow and hollers out. "Hey! You see a guy down there, blonde hair, wearing a Jet's shirt?!"

The slapping and pushing stops once Gwen realizes just who this is. Some random girl. Okay. So not rape. "I. What?! Are you mentally impaired or something?" Mitch grabs her and she tries to shake off her arm, spilling her drink as she does so. Huffily, she rearranges her purse and finishes her martini that she now remembers that she has. That leaves only a glass and she chucks it behind her in the alleyway she just fled. To the man that comes out of the bar, she tosses her hair. "Well, he /might/ have been the guy who just got freaking shanked in the alleyway. But I wouldn't know."

Stefanie sees something… People… Looking quite nefarious, or being completely innocent. However, they are crouched down and one is making some motion towards the ground, perhaps of the stabby kind. She reaches into her purse, grabbing her cell phone, flipped open and finger on the speed dial for 911 just in case, and one of those bright yet compact LED flashlights. However, with three items and only two hands, she holds the flashlight and the airhorn in her right hand, and the phone in her left. She turns the light on, flashing it at the two. "H-Hey there, people… Move it along." She tries to sound official while being completely shit-scared. "We don't want no trouble here tonight." She swallows sharply. Hopefully from her place at the mouth of the alley, she's far enough away to not be in any danger…. Right?

Narrowly avoiding getting part of a martini spilled on her by sheer coincidence, Mitch sort of clings to the stranger's arm because she forgot her hand was there - but hurriedly removes it as she's shaken off like invasive lint. On the man's shouting behind them, she double-takes. "Huh? Nope. Actually," she looks back into the alley, squinting. "I don't really see anything," she adds with disappointment. She doesn't see anything /anymore/, that is. "But someone's totally getting shanked," she agrees with Gwen, just in time to quirk a brow at the red-haired teenager. "You look a little young to be a cop, missy. Oh waaait, I get it — are you undercover? Are you only dressed up like jailbait to trick the clubs into giving you booze and then bust them for serving to minors?" Mitch has an active imagination.

In the distance, Gene can be heard yelling on the top of his lungs as he can be seen by those in front of the club now. "Hey, lady, you okay?" he calls out, not sure which woman it was that called out for help. Dang, if he was Superman, he would have some special flight power or good hearing. But he doesn't, so he's forced to rely on other methods. Of course, he is rather loud about his method, but social awareness is NOT one of Gene's strong points, however well meaning he might be. The hero is coming. Really.

As Stefanie flashes the light down the alley, and catching the attention of the two men who is hurdled over in a crouched position, one of them slowly begins to rise upwards, then turns in the darkness to face the alley of the mouth. What happens next is straight out of a horror movie, except a whole lot more real. Tucked beneath the hoodie of the jacket, is what appears to be a ghostly white looking skull with glowing red eyes glinting from behind what could be a mask. His chest is covered in a wet, and messy red stain as blood drips from the eight inch curved blade he holds in his hand.

The other man, still crouched, turns his head to stare as well, his mask looking more menacing, and gaping as it seems to be covered in blood around the teeth. As if to illustrate it even more, a hand comes up with what appears to be a glob of flesh, and shoves it into his 'maw' as he forces the slimy goo into his mask.

Along the ground lays the sprawled out body of the blonde with the Jet's shirt, his head lobbed off to one side, and his chest torn open to the exposed sky of the night, with ribs jutting out in all twisted directions. It's fairly obvious that 'trouble' has found Stefanie.

The man standing slowly lifts his knife upwards to point in her direction, before tilting his head back, and letting out what sounds to be a wet, gurgled howl from the back of his throat, then starts charging the mouth, swiping his bloodied blade side to side over his chest in a spinning, chopping motion. He's like a man man, straight from a Rob Zombie flick, rocketing without pause.

Unamused, Gwen raises an eyebrow at Mitch. And then she raises the other one. "Do…do you want us to call someone for you? Like, your parole buddy? Or the people at the mental hospital? I'm sure they'll be around to collect you ASAP." The epic creepiness that is happening down in the alleyway is totally unnoticed behind her. She's not paying attention and has basically regulated the people back there as dead. The howl, though, is met with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "God, people, Halloween is over. And if you're howling like that during sex in alleyway, you're doing it wrong."

Stefanie blinks and freezes for a half-second as she takes the scene… Dudes in scary masks, and some guy on the ground with some impromptu open-heart surgery…. and the guy with the knife is running right for her. She immediately drops the flashlight to the ground. "oh shit… oh Shit… OH SHIT! RUN!" She shouts to any and all that can hear her, while frantically trying to remember to press the speed dial button to 911.

Mitch peers over when someone does some helpful shouting (Gene), but this is a street in New York beside a bar. Someone is always shouting. Nonetheless, her suspicion is high - it's her job to be nosy about everything. Peer, peer. … Wobble. She reaches out to grab the corner of the building at the mouth of the alley to steady herself. "Uuuuh, as long as the nice people in white coats give me a free ride home because I have had WAY too Hawaiian Punch from Hells. Hey, if I was having sex in an alley? I might be howling like that too, in sheer mourning for the /skanky/. God. What is— " And the not-cop-Stefanie is yelling. Huh? She looks past Gwen and get a whole hell of a lot /more/ wobbly. "OHSWEETJESUS RUN." Mitch does not run. She just kinda… stands there uselessly, staring like an idiot.

Normally, screaming, howling, semi-fast-running girls? These are all signs to get the HELL out of wherever you are. But Sakura…well…sometimes she's a little slow. And wandering through midtown, Sakura's practically run over by Stefanie. She only avoids it by hearing the girl and stepping out of the way, catching Stefanie around the waist. It doesnt quite occur to her that, if Stefanie's running away, she's probably running…FROM something. "What's wrong?"

"What the /hell/ is wrong with all of you?" But, much like the scenes from movies, Gwen's innocence can't last forever. There's yelling and people screaming and slowly, oh so slowly, she turns around to see what the fuss is about. It's like she can't help herself. She /knows/ she shouldn't. But, she does. All she needs is one look and she before she faints dead away. WHUMP.

Racing in and sticking to a mostly graceful stop, Gene seems to get a quick understanding of the situation. A woman running away that he met before, check. A really hot woman on the ground, check. Things are looking good for the Gene-meister. Man wielding knife and looking bloody… Crap. Crap crap crap crap.

'There is a woman that needs you. Two of them if you include that lady from the coffee shop, Gene! Go out there and be a hero. Prove that you don't need style to be a hero. Or muscles. Or fighting experience. Or any experience involving danger. Run, Gene, run, grandpa would understand!'

Of course, Gene doesn't prepare to fight OR flee, as he's actually thinking this all to himself as he takes in the information and makes his logical conclusion. In fact, it looks like he races all heroically there only to stand there and just stare at the scene at hand. But you gotta move from wanna-be to actual hero sometime, right?

Giving chase behind Stefanie is the man in the gored skull mask, with his head tucked beneath the hoodie of his black, blood soaked jacket. Wet slaps of his sneakers can be heard echoing from the dark alley as he continues to whip his knife about in front of him in a dancing, dangerous manner. The dropped flash light frames his form for a quick second as he rushes by it, highlighting the amount of crimson wet blood soaked into his clothes, giving him an even more gruesome sight.

The other man who's still enjoying his meal of a very dead Jet's fan finally rises up to his feet, and starts to wipe the blood off his hands across his pants, creating a muddy, maroon smear. With bright, flashing red eyes behind the mask, he stares at the chaos unraveling with a tilt of his head, before starting to stride forward in a slow, cocky swagger. Reaching to his belt, he pulls a machete out which was tucked against his hip, raising it up, and pointing it, straight at Gene.

In about three seconds, Gwen is about to find herself with a new best friend as the knife wielder who was racing down the alley will obviously pick the easy target as she had fainted to the ground. As he slides to a stop near her prone body, he can hear shrieks coming from the street as the customers who was lining up for the bar spies the 'monster', and starts to scatter in a panicked frenzy. Cars can be heard squealing as brakes lock up in an attempt to miss those who run into the busy street. Sadly, a young man who wasn't looking where he was going finds himself bouncing off the hood of a speeding taxi as he begins to scream in pain.

Chaos at it's best.

Stefanie screams as she's grabbed by someone, now dropping the phone and the airhorn.. Oh.. It's Sakura *swoon*. She hugs the girl tight, and then reality sets in. "Run! Knife! Blood!" As if the girl needs a more coherent explanation then that. And then hell breaks loose as *everyone* sees what's happening.

There's a moment that Sakura almost seems to debate, as if 'Run! Knife! Blood!' was something she could just sorta ignore. That's…when the guy chasing Stefanie comes into sight. And pretty clearly targets the recently fallen girl. Sakura's eyes look to Stefanie, holding the girl for a moment, hoping Stefanie will settle for a moment and ACTUALLY explain to her what's going on. She's got the jist…but is it 19 guys and a machete or one guy with a swiss army knife?

Mitch does not normally go out of her way to help another human being. So, when Gwen faints, it isn't out of the goodness of her heart that she tries to catch the other woman. It's because Gwen is going to bowl her over if she doesn't, because Mitch's feet seem to be too frozen to the pavement to get out of the /way/. "Ahck!" Thus, she awkwardly clutches onto the stranger as she goes down but, promptly, crumples to the ground herself. So much for that. Clambering around on her hands and knees, palms having slammed into the pave, she looks up just in time to see a man straight out of a horror flick. If only there wasn't so much blood everywhere, she might be a little braver. Snappier. But right now? You can practically see her *gulp*-ing.

Not exactly having the willpower of a seasoned veteran, Gwen swooned. But, she's not exactly the delicate flower that she plays at. After a few moments of unconsciousness, she wakes up aching and wondering what happened and how long she was out. Being basically right on top of Mitch does not go unnoticed and she groans. Just because Mitch caught her doesn't mean that it didn't hurt. However, any thoughts are quickly extinguished when she sees the scary bleeding and generally gross looking man looming over her. She lets out a piercing shriek and starts to scramble away from such a sight.

The man pulls out a weapon, seemingly ready to kill the young but well intentioned geek. If he brought R2-D2 here, he wouldn't be in this bind. He narrows his eyes, sweat pouring down his face. He doesn't run or faint to his credit, but fear is shown in his voice as he yells out the following to the two gang members, "Is G-g-g-g-gene gunna have to c-c-c-choke a b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-bitch?" He wants to move to defend Gwen, but only manages to make a motion toward her body in a flinching type manner.

It is a good thing Gwen woke up when she did, because as she started to scoot backwards, the knife which swoops down misses her leg by only a few inches, scraping painfully loud against the concrete as the metal catches the sidewalk. Snapping his head upwards, the man with the skull covered mask stares at her for a long moment, before pushing himself up again and looking to make another strike. The knife is raised, and the street lights catch the steel perfectly as it gives a bloody shine, moments before he lashes forward, looking to gore the woman in the stomach.


It seems that there's a bit of luck on everyone's side as bullets whiz through the air and catch the man in the chest, sending him soaring backwards in a rainbow spray of blood that splatters the wall, followed what appears to be an oozing trail of black oily substance that seeps into the concrete, hissing upon contact as if it was eating the stone away.

"Freeze asshole!"

NYPD, at your service. As the squad car squealed to a stop, an officer had made his way out quickly, gun drawn and fired the three rounds, practically saving Gwen from having a horrible belly piercing.

The man who was approaching down the alley turns all of a sudden, running hard into the darkness, where the officer, and his partner follows suit, while others of law enforcement arrive on scene to begin securing the area, and trying to control the situation.

"Everyone get back, *now!* Do NOT panic!"

Those wounded on the street due to vehicular collision are quickly tended to as ambulances arrive on scene with sirens, and lights filling the air a few minutes later once they got the call that the streets were contained.

The man on the ground who was just shot? He doesn't even so much as twitch as his prone body leaks blood. A paramedic kneels over and tugs the mask off, wincing at the sight as she takes a step back, holding a hand over her mouth. Beneath the skull, is a face marked in horrible burn scars, twisted and knotted. His mouth is covered in blood from his meal, and his black eyes are rolled back into his head, empty and vacant.

Stefanie still clings to Sakura, having jumped at the gunshots, and tries not to cry as they're being ushered by police to give a statement.

The gunshots cause Sakura to clench her eyes—never a fan of that sound. The young Japanese girl holds Stephanie, gently rubbing the girl's back and, even knowing that the girl won't understand, murmurs in Japanese, "<Shh….it's okay. Everything's okay…>"

Okay. Okay. Get the hell up and run for your /life/, Mitch! What's this guy going to do after he fillets this other chick? All she can do is stare for another span of-well, it feels like forever that the masked man is looming there. Taking a cue from Gwen, the other woman's scream jarring her from her horror-trance, she scrambles to her feet, but she ducks down with her hands over her head when the gunshots ring out. Someone will just have to kinda… drag her away. She'll be busy either curling up in a fetal position or pointing at the alley and babbling about crazy sons of bitches in masks.

Unlike Mitch, Gwen has no problem wobbling up to her feet. This scary man is gone, fled, shot. And while many would stop to make sure that the woman who caught her is alright, Gwen stands up and goes flat out running far away from this scary place.

And Gene is going to die trying to impress a lady and without showing people the true awesome that is inside of him Just like that mean girl in sixth grade told him. Darn you, Tiffany Carson. As he wonders if he'll get cryogenically frozen like Walt Disney, he finds that bullets come to his aid. The men are quickly subdued, and Gene is standing there as the police man does his thing. Well, looks like Gene isn't going to die! Hurrah! And it looks like he isn't a hero. Boo. Lowering his head in shame and oddly enough not passing out despite the blood and gore about him, Gene tries to muster up his courage to check on the ladies about him. At least he can make up for lost points on Well, Gwen's gone. Checking her run a bit longer than is likely needed, Gene sighs.

Turning toward Mitch, the only person here who is in shock and alone, he gives a weak and insecure smile as he tries to move beside her. kneeling if she's in the fetal. "Um, miss… Are you okay? …Well, I know you're not okay, but I want to see if there is anything I can do since you're not okay and… um… yeah."

"Am I okay? Am I okay?! Did you even SEE that?!" Mitch has given in to both scenario A and B, pointing down the alley while sitting on the ground with her arms wrapped around her knees and barely maintaining decency since she's wearing a dress but /whatever/. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh MY GOD." Repetitive much? Give the girl a break. She clambers to her feet herself, looking woozy and pale. "'m… just… what… did someone slip some wacked out drugs into my drink, because this crap just doesn't happen in real life! That was the freakiest freakshow I've ever seen. I'm totally going to— " Throw up on Gene. Apparently, even trying to be a hero isn't what it's cracked up to be.

Gene looks down as he gets booze-y puke on him. This was his fashionable coat. The thing the girls always complimented. Sighing, the geek slowly removes the jacket. He was gunna offer to let her wear it to warm her up, but now he just takes it aside, laying it on the sidewalk to stink in peace. He knows he's gunna get taken in for questioning and this is gunna be a long night, but he is calm and collected. He's dealt with worse, despite his issues with courage and heroics.

Folding his arms around his body as he adjusts to the cold, Gene looks around. "So, um… Yeah, apparently this stuff does happen." The great orator Gene does it again. "Anyway, you need anything? I'd offer a hug, but I don't want a knee to the crotch or something."

"Oh God. Whoops. Thanks but…" Mitch wavers a little on her feet, still looking green around the gills, so to speak; she swipes a hand across her face, like she's trying to wake up from a dream. "I. I just… I need to get the hell outta here." And she does, although it's with the help of the NYPD who want to ask her some questions and make sure she's okay, especially considering her alley comrade Gwen fled the scene. The good part of the night: definitely over.

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