The Toaster Man Part Deux

January 27, 2019:

Billy saves Cassie before she beats a Slasher to death and cooks him on subway tracks.

Hell's Kitchen Subway stop

New York City Subway under Hell's Kitchen


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

Log Commenced: 27-Jan-19 05:22PM EST


Down underneath of a bad neighborhood, the subway still runs. Sure, it doesn't run often, and the later it gets into the evening, like now, the less often people are getting on or off of the train. At this point one of the trains comes in to stop, and a few people get off, but right before the doors shut some goth woman comes leaping out into some guy in a long coat and fedora. She tackles him to the ground as the subway doors shut behind her and the train drives off. The man rolls about on the ground, avoiding getting hit by a … is that a bat with nails sticking out of it? And then kicks the much smaller woman hard against the back rails of the subway train as it's heading away.

Getting knocked back hard, Cassie falls to her knees and loses the grip on her bat. The few people who were down here start to rush out of the subway station, and so the half-dozen or so are getting the hell out of dodge. There's no sense in calling the police, they'd never arrive in time before one of these two kills the other. That's when the guy in the coat starts to stand up, towering at about 7 feet in height he pulls out this barbed knife with a wire coming out of the base. And with the flick of a switch it starts to heat up, glowing red hot within moments. He rushes the woman, reaching out to grab her by the neck and raising her up into the air.

The knife sinks into her side, and then is pulled out, then another stab, despite the hotness of the knife there's still blood sticking to it, gumming up from the extreme heat as he's going for a third. The woman is struggling to speak, she's kicking her combat boots at the man and he's just taking the beating but it at least delays his third strike. She gets some words out, "You… think, deeper is always better… I'm sorry for your wife." That's what she chooses to struggle out and say to the man who's holding her off the ground and has already stabbed her twice.


Billy isn't normally the type to haunt bad neighbourhoods, at least not anymore. But funnily enough veterans ignored and left to rot by the system aren't all haunting the richer parts of the city, he has to go to the places where his people are. He sighs as he walks down the street his hands tucked into the warm pockets of his thick overcoat, his suit underneath perfect despite his obvious fatigue. Now wishing he hadn't left at the Rolls at the office he walks down the street his mind only thinking of catching a cab, getting a drink and finally falling in to bed.

And of course his thoughts are interrupted as people run screaming from down in the subway. He curses under his breath, as he starts towards the mouth of the subway his hand moving to his hip to loosen his Smith and Wesson M&P in it's holster. He has got some good press lately, helping out Spiderman take down some heavily armed crooks if he can keep that string going here? Well it can only mean good things for Anvil, the more he can get his face and company on TV or in the papers the better.

The scene is not exactly what he was expecting. He was expecting more of a single crazed nutjob, or knowing Hells Kitchen in NYC maybe a small cadre of terrorists or ninjas. Doesn't matter now. His pistol clears leather only a second later, aiming squarely at the back of the much larger mans head. "Put the girl and the knife down, or I will drop you before you can do anything else."


Looking over the shoulder of the big hulking guy that's holding her up off the ground, Cassie is gripping this person's hand so she isn't entirely choking. Just, kind of choking. And she swings her legs up, to push boots against chest and then pushes hard. Straining as she's trying to get free from this hand that is digging into her throat with ever increasing and horribly bruising pressure.

"Shoot… this…. fuck-" She is groaning loudly trying to get away from this clearly incredibly strong man who holds the goth chick up like she weighs nothing. About to kick the guy in the face with her boot, the man seems to be ignoring Billy. But he is bringing his knife back and then swinging it upwards toward the woman's exposed thigh. That's going to hurt if it makes purchase, and Cassie is still struggling to get away, kicking hard right into this guy's face with her boot and he doesn't seem phased by it. Not in the least. Is he on drugs?


Well he gave the warning he really should give, hell there is probably some kind of camera in here somewhere. He doesn't want to come across as some sort of raging psychopath after all! He doesn't hesitate a moment longer as soon as he spots that hand flexing around her neck and that knife to move on its path to slam into her thigh. His pistol fires four seperate times in rapid succession, from this range a shooter like Billy could hardly miss and the .40 hollowpoints slam into his target more or less exactly how he intended them to. Two of them slamming into the back of the targets head before two more slam in his targets back, aimed for his heart. "Ice won't save you from that, or steroids. Or both." He speaks before the body even drops, but it is very clear that is what he is expecting to happen. And I mean who wouldn't expect that.


The person holding Cassie loosens his grip as blood and brains splatter all over her from the shots fired into the back of the guy's head. And she drops, landing on the ground and quickly scrambling in the direction of her bat. Does the big hulking guy fall? Not really, the shots in his chest splattered blood as far back as the far subway wall and the man kind of slumps over, like he were going to fall. Then turns…

His face is partially missing, just blood dropping and oozing down what remains of his jaw and face. His coat and chest are all bloody from the shots through his heart, and he is definitely not moving very quickly. That's when he starts to move in the direction of Billy. Stumbling forward, picking up speed, half fallen over the big man is moving in his direction. There's a lot of lead time for Billy, some extra shots might just take this guy down… but the fact that he's even still moving is pretty hard to believe. Maybe unnoticed, the woman, who now has her bat, and is inevitably covered by blood, is gripping the bat tightly in one hand and making a charging motion to intercept. She's pretty quick, but not fast enough to beat bullets.


"Jesus, H, Fucking, Christ!" his cry is not exactly quiet or subtle. Is Billy religious, not in the slightest but that is something he hasn't seen before. He has seen people walk of wounds that should have killed them, survived situations that no man should have been able to survive. But this fucking thing? It should be dead. No one can survive damage like that. His gun had already started to lower, half a step already taken forward to assist the girl as this thing began to slump. But now it comes at him. He doesn't even aim in particular, just brings his gun up in this things general direction and keeps squeezing the trigger. It holds sixteen shots and his plan is to use all of them to make sure this thing goes down.


Bullets impact the body like they are going out of style. Each one staggering the man a bit more. It takes more than it should to stop him from charging, then the rest to cause him to fall to his knees and drop to the ground bleeding all over the place. It's dead. And yet, Cassie gets to him and starts whacking him in the head, smashing and hitting, again and again and again. Until finally there's no recognizable head left. And then? She grabs onto his foot, and starts to drag him toward the subway tracks. "You are some kind of crack shot. Like, amazingly fucking good. Thanks for the assist." She's smiling a bit, over her shoulder. Hell it might even be cute, if she weren't covered with blood, and dragging a corpse leaving a trail of blood behind her toward the subway tracks. "Sorry about this… it's going to smell."


Billy just breathes deep as the giant man finally falls, his gun still trained on the fallen body as he ejects his magazine and inserts another smoothly before he racks the slide. At least it looks like it has actually well and truly stopped moving now. Honestly it doesn't take too much work for a nail studded bat to cave in a skull already weakened by two hollowpoints at close range. And he doesn't look like he is going to stop her as he is still coming to terms with this entire fucked up situation.

He does start forward after she starts to drag the body towards the tracks though, his hand without his pistol reaching out towards her but staying well and truly back out of immediate swing range. He tries to play off her for a moment before he gets into it "Yeah well I was a Marine for a long time, a good one. So, uh, what are you doing with that body? It's dead, it attacked you have the wounds and everything to prove it. Don't really need to get rid of it like that." Honestly he still finds the smile cute, the blood only adding to it really. The torn apart and completely fucked up body though? Not so much, yeah that really ruins the atmosphere.


If Cassandra were a paranoid person she might turn before she's grabbed. And, she's a paranoid person, but her bat is well and situated over her shoulder like it's some crazy fashion accessory. She stops, and smiles back to the guy who's looking at her, and then looks up to him, "A marine, huh? That's got to have been… uh, great?" She gives a quirkish grin, and tilts her head to the side, and then she runs her hand up into her hair and sort of fluffs out some of the clearly unbrushed for days look, and kind of wipes off some of the more gorey bits from her face with the back of her hand. Making some of her hair sticky with blood, as she does so, and she answers, "Well, just making sure the chicken's deep fried. The fucker's dead. The piss is in the pan, as they say. You know, dead dead. Or at least for now. Never can be too sure… and yeah, uh, he did kind of get me. Not too bad though." Her black dress has some holes to prove she was stabbed, but she seems to be moving just fine.

Billy probably can relate. Soldiers, military types, mercenaries, they all have a kind of high tolerance to pain. Not exactly tolerance, so much as they know how to keep it together when suffering, continue to fight and move. And Cassie, certainly is this way. "Oh, uh…" She wipes off her bloody hand onto her dress and sticks it out to shake, "Cassie Hack, thank you for your service. And all that, that's what I'm supposed to say right? I hear it on the radio a lot. Do, uh, you mind, if I … you know, keep dragging this asshole off stage left? And then we can maybe get out of here before the police show up?"


"Yeah well great would certainly be one way of putting it, guess it depends on when you ask people and their perspective." He shakes his head with a small laugh that sounds just a little bit shakey as he comes down from his adrenaline high. He looks her over noting the wounds she is pushing past as well as the blood and general dissaray that is her look right now. "Dead, dead? In my experience one is the same as the other."

"You know I have always hated it when people say it to me and don't mean it so don't bother." But he still holds out his hand to shake hers "Billy Russo." He still doesn't look happy with whatever the fuck is going on here, but now he is pretty convinced that no one is coming out of this looking good for the cameras so he just wants it all to be over with. He lets out a sigh before he moves forward to take up the guys other leg to help drag him towards the tracks. "So you thought about the cameras in this place?"


"Oh, shit, sorry, for fuck's sake. I always thought the same thing. No marine is going in to get fucked up just so they can be thanked later." Cassie shakes her head, "That seems kind of ridiculous to me. So, sorry, that I said it. Just, never met a soldier boy before." And Cassandra then grabs up the leg on her side, and then starts dragging the corpse in the direction of the subway tracks.

"Well, there's dead. And then there's dead dead. Then again, even dead dead somtimes isn't dead enough." Cassie laughs lightly at that and then she looks around, "Cameras? Fuck. Really? Motherfuckers always filming shit these days." She groans and adds, "I have -not- thought about the cameras, clearly. That's more of a Chris thing…" Pausing a moment, she twinges in her smile a bit, and gets a more somber look on her face, "And he can't… help anymore." At the edge of platform Cassie just tugs hard to toss the big man off onto the tracks. If Billy reacts with it, it's an easy toss, but either way that body hits the electrical line and the lights flicker some as the body is starting to heat up. "At this point, I usually just run and hope my picture doesn't show in the paper the next day."


Billy quirks an eyebrow towards her as they drag the body towards the tracks "You have never met a soldier before? Huh. There are plenty of us, an uh, looking at you? I thought by now one of the braver ones would have tried their luck by now." He shakes his head with a small smirk before grunting at looking back at the body. "You think with that much of him spread over the wall he would be a little lighter don't you? I have dragged my share, but this bastard is heavy."

"Well I mean I have felt that way a few times before, normally when I am under fire and dug in. But in my experience a bullet to the face normally makes them dead enough to satisfy, not in this case though." He shakes his head his voice slightly strained from the effort of hunching over and dragging this body. "Well fuck, I don't even know where that footage goes. Does it stau on a hardrive somewhere here? Go somewhere centralised." For now Billy appears to be skipping over the apparent death of the help, not really needing to go into that right this second." He shakes his head as he moves towards the stairs out of the subway. "Well I have some calls to make, try and make this go away. You may be able to afford been caught on camara but I can't. If you want you can crash at my place for the night, I have a working shower, spare bed and I can try and patch those wounds up for you." He shakes his head with a and curses "So this is just an every day thing for you then? Want to explain to me what the hell is happening, since I apparently just asked a serial killer to stay at my house."


There's the first part of the conversation, where Cassie just kinds of gets, awkward for a moment. Sure, she just smashed someone's head in with a nail bat, and she's more blood covered at this point than pale goth chick, but this marine guy is saying some kind of thing that compliments her. And she gets a little, looking around, wide eyed a bit, and chokes up some, "Well, uh, um, no one.. that… I knew, was uh, a soldier, you know?" Heh heh, and she giggles like some stupid school girl while she flicks hair and blood to the side.

And then the conversation goes further into the direction she knows. Bullets, faces getting shot, and then quirking her mouth, "Yeah, well, you do those calls. I bet these ones don't even work." She mentions waving a hand in the direction of some of the cameras that still have blinking lights on them. "Maybe…" Though Billy's got connections, so maybe he can make it go away. "Stay, uh… at… your, um… uh, place? I uh, sure!" She bursts out at the end, and then grumbles some, looking around as she walks quickly, "Yeah, we can totally, talk about this shit, but you ain't gonna believe it. A working shower sounds fucking nice though, normally it's just me and the gas station hose, if I've got the quarters." And then she joking laughs, "I'm not a… serial killer." She adds, and probably shouldn't, "Not… really."


He notices her reaction to getting complimented by him, and notes it away for later. If anyone knows anything about Billy The beaut it is that he knows how to play. But hell he meant what he said, wash off the blood or leave it on, hell their are plenty of freaks in the armed forces. Comes with the territory.

His face crinkles at least as much as his near flawless features are able and he rubs at his brow before he keeps walking up the stairs. "You know somehow being at war was so much less complicated than coming back to Ney York." He shakes his head as he hails down a cab, a cab that immediately drives off when it spots a well dressed man standing next to a blood and viscera covered goth chick. "Well shit, didn't fucking think of that either." He starts to walk down the street, deciding to message on his phone for now. Between his tech guys and his 'special' employees at Anvil chances are he will be able to clean up any footage without creating too much of a stir, just might require a couple of bribes or the right application of violence.

"So in between your adventures of killing giants and showering with hoses in truck stops did someone teach you how to steal a car? Cos I live a ways away from here and I have had a hell of a day, and you appear to have been lightly stabbed." Playing it down a little sure, but apart from a few moments in his life no one has ever accused him of being overly serious.


"I am positive that being at war is less complicated than New York. Though New York seems to be a lot less complicated than Wisconsin. Really, capital of cheese? That just screams weird." Says Cassie as she moves to stand at the edge of the sidewalk. The taxi cab stops and then drives off quickly, and she yells, "Yeah!? Fucker! Seriously, get another job if you aren't going to pick people up in need!" She's screaming after him long after he's left, and flipping him off in the meantime.

"Steal a car?" And she turns to the nearest car and just is about to swing her bat at the window before she stops. "Nope. I can break the window, the rest of it? I mean, I've got my truck up a block or so." And she starts walking in that direction.

When she gets to it, it is a rust covered beat up old truck from the 60s likely, and she tosses her nail bat into the back of the truck and opens the door. Even in this neighborhood no one's desperate enough to steal her truck. And she swipes off some fast food wrappers and trash from the passenger seat, "Come on inside." Sitting on the bench seat, right in the middle, is a mangey orange tabby, "Dario, this is Billy. Billy, this is Dario. Now, hopefully I have enough gas… I was already on E when I got here."

The truck will manage to make it, if Billy even dares to get inside of it.


"Yeah this isn't going to cause a stir at all." He shakes his head as he climbs inside half worried the entire thing is going to rust apart under him, or that is added weight will be the straw that broke the camels back and the axle will snap. "If you are that desperate for fuel pull into a station, preferably one that looks like the cameras are actually fake. Better to pay for a little fuel than to be stranded and picked up by the cops soaked in blood and got knows what else."

He leans his head back against, and kicks his feet through the assorted fast food wrappers.

Well he wasn't exactly lying when he said his house is a while away, although as he explains as they get closer. This isn't actually his house. "It's a safe house where I keep VIP's if they are in immediate danger and need a place to lie low while the situation is resolved. Besides if someone does manage to catch on to you or me, well I would rather lead them here than to my actual doorstep." He shakes his head as he gets out of the barely held together truck and enters the building, waltzing past the staff without stopping to chat before finally he hits the button for the penthouse. The place is nice, nicer than it has any right to be. Beautifully appointed with two seperate massive bedrooms, ensuits, a single massive bathroom and resting on a balcony shielded by one way glass from prying eyes is a Jacuzzi. More importantly and on top of all that there is a well stocked bar pressed against one wall.

He has only managed to take of his coat by the time the phone starts to ring. He answers it quickly before speaking into it quietly. "No that will not be necessary, no she is a client." Placing the phone down he turns around with an amused smile "Apparently the lobby was a little concerned about you." He shakes his head before he moves back further into the room. "Take a shower, get all of that blood and…whatever else off. Then I should take a look at those wounds while you tell me what the fuck is going on."


"Sure thing Mister Billy." Cassie offers a salute, clearly she's never been in the military. And she drives. Part of the way she coasts into a gas station and gets gas. She has to get Billy to pay for it at the pump, since, she's got a few nickels and a dime to her name. And then they are on the road again. The gas station, much like the rest of Hell's Kitchen is barely keeping itself together so no cameras fake or otherwise were even present. The credit card machine barely worked.

To the safe house. "Ohhhh. That's a good idea. I think me and Vlad used to use motels for things like that. Go in there, let people see us go in, and then wait for them to bust down the-" Pausing at the place, she's blinking and looking around, "Holy fucking jesus in the backdoor… wait a moment…" And she has to jog to catch up to the elevator. Just the lobby is impressive.

Her mouth gapes open when she's in the actual place. ANd she stays in the elevator, and then cautiously, tip toes into the room, keeping her hands out like she might touch something and it will shatter. She quickly takes off her boots at the door and tosses them to the side, but then she's just looking around blinking. And blinking. And, "Are you some kind of rich celebrity or some shit? I mean-" Then the phone.

Patience for a moment and she's over at the window looking out to the jacuzzi, and then looking around the kitchen. She turns on one of the sinks before clasping her hands together, "Oh thank you baby jesus, I swear I will never masturbate again if you do not let me get attacked before I can finish a shower." And then she reveals her hands where she's crossing her fingers. Off the phone, and she sticks her head out from way over by the counters, "Oh, uh, yeah. Shower. Shit, totally forgot about all this blood." And there's now some marks about places. Her hands have left bloody handprints here and there with things she's touched, like the glass leading out to the jacuzzi and the sink's handle.

Off to the bathroom, and soon the shower is running. And she must use quarters for hoses since she showers pretty fast. Just a few minutes before she's opening the door a little "Hey, uh, Billy? Um. Got some clothes maybe like shorts or whatever? I could put on my old clothes, but they are staining the sink, soaking them in there. Was a bit more blood than I thought."


He is only on the phone for a few moments before he comes back in to overhear her little comment about masturbation "You know you really shouldn't make promises you can't keep." he shakes his head with a laugh as soon as she reveals her fingers. Still shaking his head with an amused smirk he moves off to pour a couple a drink for them both filling a couple of tumblers with a few fingers of top shelf scotch as she moves off towards the bathroom. He moves over to the plush leather couch and sinks into it with a grateful sigh as soon as he hears the shower running. Taking a few sips of his drink before he leans his head back and closes his eyes. "What have you got yourself into this time Billy?"

It seems like only a couple of moments pass before she is calling out to the bathroom to him, did he fall asleep for a couple of seconds. He rubs at his eyes for just a moment before he stands up with a pained grunt. "Coming right up, though they might be a little big for you." He returns a few moments later and passes the clothes through the door, a mans tank top and a pair of loose fitting exercise shorts. All of them more suited to his six foot tall athletic build. "This is all we have here at the moment."


The comment about keeping promises goes without a rebuttal, but she does flush just a little bit before her quick run off to the bathroom. And when she's getting the clothes she says, "Oh that's fine!" And she puts them on. The athletic shorts hopefully having some kind of draw string she has to pull super tight, and they still hang around mid-hip instead of higher up, and that reveals the strings of her underwear that go up about her hips more. Very comic booky fashionable, and then the tank top? Oh gawd this is like swimming in it.

When she comes out of the bathroom the tank top is tied off to one side, tightly, since her dress was the bra she had, and the shorts are big as well, but managed. Her stomach is very well exposed and where you are certain she was stabbed by the knife there's not even a mark. Though on her right foot, the more observant military man, can easily see she's missing her pinking and ring toe. Her other hands and feet have all their digits on them. "Welp. It fits, just a lot of fucking side-boob. Whatever, not the first time." And she's moving about the place, now clean and smelling of shower. She still has on her leather collar that she was wearing with the previous dress, and she put it back on after the shower. "Alright then, Billy, what do you want to know? Hmm?" And she's walking over to the couch and flopping down on it, leaning back, "Oh, by my own fucking tits, this couch is amaaaaaaazing. I'm sleeping on this, it's like a bed made out of babies its so soft." Her hands are running along the material as she sits there.


He is already stretched out on one of the leather couches by the time she comes out, his drink resting on his stomach with his hand lightly wrapped around it. "Left a drink for you on the bar, whiskey. If you don't like it feel free to pour anything else you want." He lifts his hand up to his face, his eyes closed the entire time his other forearm resting atop of them. Right up until she mentions side boob. He shifts his arm slightly and cracks open an eye. "Side boob is best boob." He chuckles his rich brown eyes lighting up with humour as he shifts his arm behind his head to prop himself up slightly.

"What do I want to know? Where do I even start?" He looks pointedly at her wounds, or rather perfect skin. "You a mutant? Or meta? Heard some of them do that kind of healing, makes things just a little unfair for us mere mortals." He takes another small sip of the rich oaky tasting scotch, his eyes hooding for a moment as it slides down his throat. "But really I think what I need to know most, is what the fuck was that." He exclaims while gesturing as wildly as he can with both of his hands occupied.

He quirks an eyebrow at her reaction as she sinks into the couch noting her reaction, and just how she describes it. "You really aren't putting me at ease on the horrifying serial killer angle."


There's an eye given to the drink, a moment, and then she shakes her head, "I uh, don't drink. Not that I am sure it's not good or anything. Just… I'd zonk right out after a shot or two. Or worse." And she rolls her eyes some, before turning her head, "What?" And she reaches down to touch her stomach, "Oh, uh… yeah, kind of… let's go with that. I'm a mutant, meta, thingie." She gives this grimacing quirk like she's totally lying but trying to smile, and is really really bad at lying.

"You don't describe your couch as super soft?" This just draws confusion, the babies comment doesn't seem like the part to her, but she nods her head, "Yeah. So, this is… uh. Well, let's start with this." And she leans forward some, "Ever seen one of those horror movies with like, a guy with a hatchet, there's usually some hot blonde chick who gets screwed, twice over, once by some dork and then once by the slasher in the film. And it's usually a knife, right through the back and out her cleavage? Blood goes everywhere, and then it happens like 3 more times. And you are sitting there going, WOW, she's got some jiggle." A pause in a questioning tone, as she squints a bit, "Well, that guy was one of them." Then another pause before she chuckles, "Not the big breasted blonde, just the guy killing her. A slasher. Kind of like a serial killer."


He raises her glass towards he as she gives her reasons for not drinking, saluting her with his drink he speaks with his rich low voice "Yeah that is kinda the point." He tilts the glassback and has another taste of the fine brown liqour. "You know you aren't a good liar? So why even bother trying, not like you really have to tell me or anything. Not like a particularly care what you are, well not unless you leak some kind of toxin or breath fire in your sleep or some shit."

"You seriously asking if I have seen Friday the 13th and shit like that? Don't think anyone can get through high school without seeing at least one or two of those sorts of movies. But yeah I remember teenage Billy liking more than a few of those actresses…" he trails off for a moment "Pretty weird how so many horror movies are basically soft core porn with violence thrown in when you think about it." He trails off for a few moments, perhaps he is even more exhausted then he realised before he manages to snap back into focus. "Well if that is true, guess you are lucky you aren't an over endowed blonde and we hadn't slept together yet." He rolls off the couch with a huge force of will and exertion of effort moving over to the bar to take up her drink and start work on it himself. "So these things exist and we don't know about them why? Hell what sets them apart from us?"


"Wow, I wish…" Cassie mentions at the idea of powers. And then she shakes her head, "Well, it's just. It isn't a very good first impression, or even second or sixth, or ever, to tell a pretty soldier boy that your mom was a serial killer who fed high school kids… other high school kids and you had to kill her before your boobs popped." At that she reaches up and scratches into her hair.

"Soooooo, yeah… they are basically soft core porn, aren't they? No wonder I like them so much…" She trails off a moment. "Yeah, so slashers, they are kind of those guys. Always popping up for a second round or so… seems like the harder you kill them the longer they sort of stay dead." Quirking her mouth to the side, "This all makes me sound like I'm batshit crazy. We live in a city that fucking aliens exist, and people get invaded, body snatched, probed, whatever all the fucking time. People fly, and shit, and -this- sounds crazy." And then she sighs and mentions, "I'm more the victim from like the 80s and 90s flicks. You know, more the ostracized goth chick who ends up wearing not a lot of clothes. They kind of zone in on that shit, and it's a pretty easy tactic to get them to attack me. And then… smash, or burn, or electrocute, rarely shoot. Bullets are fucking expensive, I have to eat out of trash cans half the fucking time. This is a full time bullshit job, but exactly the point. No one believes it, part of it's cause some corporation or another is always covering up experiments…"

The last question gets her to shift a little on the couch, and then she squirms a bit, "Uh, so, um. What makes them different from you, is, uh, they are stronger than normal, and faster, aggressive like a chihuahua meeting your favorite teddy bear, and um…" She trails off, more quietly saying, "Heal pretty fast." Then louder, "And they come back from the dead."


"Ok, now back the truck up for a second. I am definitely not one to get wrapped up in the bad parents trap. But you had to kill her before your boobs popped? Like literally, or just before they were…" he throws his hand out towards her side boob before he sinks into the soft luxurious couch once again. "Still that sounds pretty damn rough. If it makes you feel any better I think you win the trophy, I mean my mum was a piece of shit ice addict who abandoned me. But I am pretty sure she never fed anyone to anybody else."

"So what they are actually immortal? What about that guy earlier, he ate like two pounds of lead, got his skull bashed in, got crispy fried and is probably going to get cleaned up by a train or two. Is he coming back?" He looks a little incredulous at everything he has been told, but like she says crazy shit is literally fucking everywhere at the moment and he did see it with his own damn eyes. "Seriously? Now there is a godamn conspiracy involved?" He leans back into the couch with a shit eating smile "You know some days I think I have had a rough life. And then I get to meet people like you." He shakes his head with a loud laugh "Fighting immortal monsters hidden by some corporate conspiracy conducting experiments on all this shit. And you are a teenage girl I am guessing with no real training, armed with a bat, who can't even eat properly most days. Well fuck me!" He pounds down the rest of his drink all two fingers of fine scotch before he thumps his chest and coughs. "Just wanted to do visit a few support groups, help Curtis out and in the end stumble into this. He shakes his head before he flops back with a dazed smile.


"Uh, not, like, no, not literally. I mean. Not exploding boobs. More like, yeah, I was 14, and pretty flat chested." And then Cassie realizes her breasts are the topic of discussion, and she flushes again. Her cheeks getting hot, and she nods her head, keeping quiet as she's breathing a little heavier, and then she swallows. Just letting you carry on without bringing attention again to her feminine parts.

"Immortal? Yeah, they are. Sort of. It's not a predictable science or anything. Just, the harder you kill them, the longer they tend to stay away. There's a whole society and corporation trying to make them, I mean, cause… duh, right, immortality. Whoopy doo dah day." And then she nods her head, "That's the second time I killed him. The Toaster Man, I'm calling him, he was burning people alive with some kind of big toaster… I mean, I don't know exactly, never found where he was doing it. But people were showing up dead, and with burn marks like from those metal bits in a toaster."

"Wait a second, I'm no teenager. I mean, I look it, but that's… unimportant. I just, I'm twenty five. Okay? And I'm really fucking good with my bat." Cassie remarks, as she sort of sits back against the couch, and takes in a deep breath. "I've had plenty of training, kind of - on the job training. See your mom boil her face in a stew, and then have to shoot her in the head later, and again… years after that. You pick up a thing or two in the interim. Plus, there's undead animals, and shit, that's the creepy part. Not… half as creepy as almost being impregnated by a world-ending dimensional cthulhu type beast. All those tentacles, right?" A pause and then she blinks a few more times, "You, uh, believe me? That's… awkward."

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