Jessie Quaid

Jessie sat hunched over, dozing on the counter of the diner, her head resting on her arms. Her battered leather jacket hung on the back of the stool.

"What time is it?" She asked without looking up, sounding exhausted.

She wasn't asking anyone in particular. She'd come there alone and the place had been empty, as it should be in the early hours.

"Just gone three," a man replied in a gravelly tone.  

She turned her head to him, her voice strained, "A.M.?.."

He nodded, smiling with brilliant sharp teeth.

"Oh God.. I need a bed!"

She spoke mostly to herself now, hoping there was a cheap motel nearby.  She rolled her head back to face the little napkin dispenser and made a face at the warped reflection it showed. As she distracted herself with where she'd sleep, the man, oozing ill repute, slid off his stool and walked over to her.

"I might be able to help you out with that…" His voice now came from behind her.

She began to look around at him as she sat up. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. Something about his presence was familiar. "I really don't think that'll be necessary."

She grabbed her jacket and swung it on as she hopped off the stool. When she got outside, into the dark, rainy street, she found that he'd followed her. He reached out to grab her arm as she made her way over to her cycle.

"Hey! Don't get fresh!" She scolded, shaking him off. She wasn't sure what his deal was. Whether he was like some of the special breed of jerks she'd encountered or the regular kind. If she confused the two she'd be in for a world of trouble.

She got her clarification when his face got all messed up like the others had. She sighed heavily, lowering her head. She glanced around, the place was dead.

"Alright, fine.. If you really wanna.."

She took fighting stance and kicked out her right leg, her boot landing right in his face. He fell back, obviously not expecting such impact. Different scenarios flew through her mind, like a rolodex of death. She'd killed them a few ways; piercing the heart, fire, decapitation. She stopped at the last one and smiled impishly. She reached over into her backpack and pulled out her whip. She took another quick surveillance of the area before cracking it against the concrete. The vampire was now looking suitably worried. He turned to run but she lashed it full force, wrapping around his neck.

"Hey! You asked me to play."

She gave a quick, hard tug and it returned, sending the vamp's head flying, exploding into dust in mid-air.

"Wicked." She smiled, impressed at the result.  "Another one bites the dust."

She wound up the whip and put it back in the bag before mounting the bike. Singing Queen, she sped off down the street.