Jakob (pt 1)

Shhhick.



Jakob smiles as the .50 caliber round slides home. In quick succession he loads the remaining five slots in his revolver. The massive handgun boasts an eight inch long barrel, custom handgrip, mounts for a flash light or laser sight, and a matte black finish. It also has, thanks to some home modifications, a hair-line trigger. Six bullets, two and a half inches long, will jump from the muzzle as fast as he can pull the trigger.



Six is Jakob’s favorite number.



Down the hall, hunkered just inside a doorway, sits Jakob’s target. He is a 5’10” male with brown hair. He is roughly thirty three years in age and in his hands rests a fully automatic machine pistol. It has a magazine with a capacity of fifty rounds.



Fifty is Jakob’s least favorite number today.



Taking a breath, Jakob sticks his head out around the corner his body is using for shelter to peer down the hallway. The sudden tattoo of fired shots signals that it’s time for Jakob to back up. Pulling his head back behind the corner, he counts as thirteen holes pepper the wall behind where his head had been. Thank God his firing spread is as big as a circus tent. Jakob can’t help but picture the hall decorated in his grey matter and smiles at the morbid idea.

“Get out of here, man.” squeaks a panicked voice. “I ain’t afraid to put a bullet in you. I’ll kill you man!”

“You know I can’t do that, Thomas. You killed the wrong person. You screwed up, Thomas, and now you’ll have to pay the price.” Jakob sighed. Work was never easy, but then, if they all came quietly, no one would need to hire him. For this guy though, no one had contracted him. This one was personal and Jakob had been waiting a long time to find him. He runs his eyes over the bullet riddled wall again. The wall was cheap, barely one sheet of drywall. He wouldn’t be surprised if the whole apartment complex was like this. Struck with a moment of inspiration, Jakob throws himself as hard as he can out from behind his corner and slams into the wall next to an apartment door on the hallway. He hits hard, and keeps going, into the room. A cacophony of shots echoes down the corridor but the rounds hit only air as Jakob’s body disappears into room 334, five doors down and on the opposite side of the hall from the target.

Working quickly, Jakob pounds his way through the walls of five rooms. At the final room he hears Thomas try to make a run for it.  Pointing the revolver in the general direction of the man’s hiding spot; Jakob lets loose a shot with a roar like a bomb shell. It tears its way through the wall and buries itself a foot in front of the fleeing man, blasting a hole the size of a melon. Thomas, in a panic, fires the reminder of his rounds into the door of the room where Jakob is standing. Jakob can’t help but chuckle. The walls may be simple to break down around the studs, but the doors are solid oak and reinforced to keep the distasteful tenants in their own rooms. Only a few bullets pass through the wood. At the sound of the hollow clicks from across the hall, the telltale sign for empty, Jakob throws open the door and brings his gun to bear on a flushed red forehead. The man lets out an inhuman scream and falls flat on his back.

“What the hell are you?” he screams. “What kind of sick joke is this?”

“No joke,” sighs Jakob, fingering the multiple bullet holes in his chest, “I told you in all seriousness of your precarious position. You killed the wrong person a couple years ago and I’m here to punish you. That wrong person just happened to be me.”





The coroners report that day showed two corpses, both seeming to have killed each other in a fire fight. One was a man in his early thirties. The other was a boy in his mid-teens. The bodies were sent to the town morgue and the weapons had been catalogued for evidence. What the coroners report didn’t say was that the ambulance with the bodies was hijacked before it reached its destination and that the evidence room at the police station had been robbed of a revolver. Nor did it describe how the wounds in the boy’s chest did not bleed. Jakob’s employer was infuriated at him for acting on his own and for leaving clues as to what he was. Jakob merely smiled and said,

“Who would believe it?”





Jakob bounced on the balls of his feet and snapped his fingers to the beat of the pumping woofers. The steam from the shower still clung to the air around his stomach as he glided across the bathroom. Speakers recessed in the wall wailed with violins and bass lines as lyrics from “Southern Belles in London Sing” echoed around the bathroom. Jakob sauntered over to the black marble sink and snagged his tooth brush from the glass next to the faucet. Peering into the mirror he bared his teeth and carefully massaged his slightly elongated canines with the soft bristles. Stopping for a moment, he grinned and chuckled to himself.

“I vant to suck your blood,” he muttered in a bad Transylvanian accent and playfully bit at his reflection. One fang ripped into his bottom lip and he howled in pain. Cursing he examined the wound and with one final curse he closed his eyes. The hole shimmered and closed.

“Twenty years of this and I still can’t get the hang of these things.” The door of the bathroom suddenly opened and a woman, about 35 years old, bustled in. Once she saw Jakob, though, she gasped and quickly turned her back.

“I’m so sorry sir. I thought you were decent.” She apologized.

“So? You’re my doctor, Sarah. You’ve seen me naked a hundred times.”

“Yes, but those were experimental examinations in the name of science! I…”

“Would you just tell me why you’re here?” Jakob asked. “I thought I had made it very clear that I had no desire to be disturbed.”

“You have been asked to attend a meeting with Mr. Corbin this evening at 20:00. He has another assignment. I was told to give you advanced notice.” Sarah announced in a very professional voice. Jakob smiled. The last time Mr. Corbin had dropped a meeting on him without "advanced notice," he had refused the whole assignment. Jakob wrapped a towel around his waist and shooed Sarah out of his room. If Mr. Corbin wanted a meeting this evening at 8 o’ clock, that was fine. That gave Jakob eleven hours to roam the city for entertainment. Jakob threw on some clothes and snapped up his cell phone, dialing quickly. One ring, two rings, and then, on the other line,

“Hello?”

“Hey Slightly.”

“Jakob! Hey man, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Wanna go out on the town for the day?”

“I can’t but I can have dinner with you at sixish. That steakhouse we went to last time. My treat.”

“Cool, but my parents want me home at around 7:50 for a meeting with my tutor again. Is that ok?”

“Yeah man, no problem. An hour and 50 minutes should be plenty time to eat.” Slightly hung up. Jakob had been lying to people for a long time about whom and what he was, but lying to Slightly was never easy. Jakob shook it off and stepped into the elevator that would bring him down to the lobby of the city bank.

When Jakob had first met Mr. Corbin, he had thought that the bank was merely a cover-up for the assassination services Mr. Corbin offered. In reality though, the bank was real and was Mr. Corbin’s initial source of income. It had only been twelve years ago that Mr. Corbin decided to supplement his earnings with the very lucrative service of killing for cash. Mr. Corbin had contracts with most of the hit men in the city but it wasn’t until he had found Jakob cowering in a garbage dump that his side business really took off.

Jakob bounded out of the elevator and out of the front door before the door man could stop him to ask where he was going. Taking a left he made his way towards the park. Jakob was always amused at how the people who walked the sidewalks in the morning behaved. Everyone walked with their heads down in a book or talking on a cell phone with no regard for their surroundings. Jakob deliberately stopped and stood directly in the path of one such person. The man quickly changed course to try and circumnavigate Jakob only to have the boy shift into his path once again. This went on for almost a minute with the man’s face getting redder and redder but he never once raised his head from his palm pilot or spoke. Finally Jakob grew tired and let the man pass. A feeling of melancholy slipped over Jakob’s shoulders as he waded through the hustle and bustle of the world that seemed to pass him by. Things had changed a lot since he was a kid, twenty years ago. Soon however he could see the green smudge at the end of the street that was his sanctuary. As soon as he slipped from the sunlight and smog of the city and into the shade of the park, he felt relieved. Here was something that never changed. Trees could live forever if left alone. Kind of like him.

His sneakers crunched on the gravel path that led to the little breakfast stand that Jakob visited every morning. He stepped up to the small counter and smiled as a familiar face peeked at him from an old rocking chair on the grass.

“Good morning Frank.” said Jakob.

“How many times have I told you? You, young man, address me by my proper name. I’ll not have you giving me any of your silly nicknames.” groused the old man.

“Do I have to? Frankabilly Penolpe is such a strange name.”

“Wha-I meant Franklin! Gaw, you get more and more fresh with me every day.” The old man smiled in spite of himself. He had always had a soft spot for Jakob. Franklin looked over his shoulder and heaved a sigh.

“Oh, and speaking of smart mouths, here comes my granddaughter. She’s here to earn a little money over vacation.” Down a different path from the one Jakob took walked a teenage girl with a tight white t-shirt and tiny pink shorts with “Hottie” written across the butt. She stormed up to the stand and dumped four bags of coffee onto the counter.

“Here’s the coffee you wanted granddad. Oh, hello!” she said, “My name is Gina. What’s yours?” Jakob nearly blanched at the sweetness that she drenched her voice with.

“Jakob.” Quickly he turned back to Franklin in a desperate attempt to order a bagel and leave before the girl dragged him into a conversation he really didn’t want to have. No such luck.

“I’ve never seen you around before. Where do you go to school?”

“Home schooled.” Jakob muttered. He cast a pleading look at Franklin but the old man was apparently enjoying the show.

“That’s really interesting. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” Jakob silently cursed himself for not saying something much younger or much older.

“Really? I’m fifteen! Maybe we could hang out some time…” Franklin coughed deep in his throat and, with a wink in Jakob’s direction, managed to make and break Jakob’s day in four words.

“Gina,” he said, chuckling, “Jakob is gay.” Jakob almost blew it by yelling at the man but saw that this might be the only way to get out of the situation alive. The girl smiled, apologized, and ran off to get more Styrofoam cups. Jakob ordered his bagel and began munching on it.

“Did it have to be gay? Why couldn’t you just tell her I was taken or something?”

“That wouldn’t have worked and you know it.”

“Franklin, when you die, I’m not going to your funeral.”

“Who said you were invited, faggot?”





The light hanging from the ceiling cast a muted yellow glow over Jakob’s half finished filet-mignon. It amused Jakob to eat. It pissed off Sarah, though. Jakob never used the bathroom or excreted any wastes of any kind and she couldn’t figure out where it all went. Looking up from his plate, Jakob glanced at the face sitting across from him. It was slender and pale. It bore no makeup except a thin line of red lipstick that covered part of her bottom lip, Queen Amidala style. Her hair was short in back and got gradually longer towards the front. It reminded Jakob of two raven wings on either side of her head, hiding her ears from some terrible sound. Her greatest fear was sharks. Her name was Vikki and apparently Slightly was in love with her. Despite the two lovebirds, however, Jakob was getting very, very angry.

At the moment, Slightly was in the middle of telling a very important story about the time he spent in Italy last year. Jakob had heard it a thousand times. Despite his frustration he smiled to himself as he watched Vikki sit with eyes wide open, enraptured by the heroic tale of the dashing American Slightly who saved an Italian actress from some Euro-trash mugger. The story was entirely true. Jakob had even looked up the details on an Italian news website. Jakob knew that moments like these were one in a trillion. This was happiness. He could see the love in both of the teenager’s eyes. What was ruining the whole moment for Jakob was the gun barrel being pressed against the back of his neck from the booth behind him, the gunman hidden behind the high backed seat.

It had been sitting there for two minutes now. If Jakob reacted, he ran the risk of scaring Slightly and Vikki and might cause a panic throughout the restaurant. So he sat, weighing his options. Suddenly Jakob saw his chance. Slightly had paused his story and was taking a deep breath, his nose crinkled up like a ball of paper. As soon as the sneeze issued from the depths of Slightly’s enormous frame, Jakob felt the barrel shift slightly and everything began to move in slow motion. Jakob’s right arm swung behind him to snag the wrist that held the gun in place. With a twitch of his fingers he snapped it like a twig and pushed back, hard. The man fell back into his booth in shock without a sound. Slightly’s eyes opened and Vikki looked up from her tissue search to see a calm and collected young man playing with his fork. Jakob looked around behind him and said in a loud voice,

“Oh! Hey, you! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Turning back to Slightly he excused himself for the evening and picked the man up from out of his booth and walked out the side door into the parking lot holding a pleasant one-sided conversation with the sniffling lump. Once outside he threw the whimpering mass against a dumpster and, slipping a razor from under his tongue, held it in front of the man’s face.

“Who are you?” asked Jakob in a low voice.

“Nobody, man, I’m a nobody.” The man cried. His nose began to run onto Jakob’s sleeve.

“Who is your employer then? If I am to allow you to live a little longer, comrade, you’ll find it necessary to provide me with a name. Now.”

“Screw you! This world is gonna die! You’re gonna die!” the man screamed. He loosed his hand from Jakob’s grasp and ripped out one of his earrings. Blood spattered his shoulder as he swallowed the whole stud. Seconds later the cyanide took its hold and the man’s body went limp. Jakob cursed, checked the man’s pockets, found a set of keys, and heaved the body into the dumpster. Pulling out his cell phone he hit the speed dial for Mr. Corbin’s clean up crew.

“Hey, this is Jakob. I have a body at Harry’s steakhouse that needs to be picked up. It’s in the dumpster next to the side door. Quickly, if you please.” The keys he had filched had a plastic key fob attached. Jakob hit the “unlock” button and had to catch his jaw as a green Aston Martin DB9 lit up a couple spots away. It was a beauty and it ran perfectly.





Jakob was asleep in his chair when Mr. Corbin stepped through the door. He was middle aged with a balding head. His belly protruded from over the top of his belt and gave the appearance of a man past his prime. He eased himself into his desk chair and tossed the manila folder he had been carrying onto Jakob’s dozing form. Jakob woke with a start and sighed while Mr. Corbin gave him a disapproving look.

“I hear you stole a vehicle to get here.” he grunted.

“The guy tried to kill me then killed himself. Under circumstances as freaky as that, I placed it under the fair game category. Besides, you can add it to your little garage. I don’t think you have an Aston yet.” yawned Jakob. He glanced into the folder. Inside was a generic dossier. Nothing different than any of the hundreds of others he had received from Mr. Corbin.

“I hate English cars. American muscle is the way to go. As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours.” Jakob looked up at this. Mr. Corbin didn’t usually give him anything special unless he was assigning a distasteful mission.

“What’s up, Corbin. You’ve something nasty up your sleeve, don’t you?”

“It’s to do with the target. It’s a young woman.” The older man’s eyes bored into Jakob, analyzing and calculating.

“I’ve killed young women before…” Jakob responded warily.

“Not this young.” Jakob looked into the dossier again. He skimmed over the habits and description until he reached her age. She was 17 years old. Jakob felt his ears get hot and his face flush. He had never thought Mr. Corbin would ask something like this of him. Jakob had indeed killed young women before but they were at least 25, never teenaged.

“What has she done?” His voice squeaked. Mr. Corbin seemed almost pleased by Jakob’s obvious discomfort.

“It’s mostly classified. But, I can tell you that she has to die to ensure the survival of someone very important to my operations. You.”

“Pardon?” Jakob spluttered. Mr. Corbin looked into the bewildered face of the creature holding the dossier. The thing called Jakob. His hands were lean with long, strong fingers. His face was pale and thin. His eyes burned a nondescript blue, almost grey, color under soft black hair. His lips were also pale and drawn into a small, thin line across his face. His body was draped with an open, black, button down collared shirt and a pair of beige cargo jeans.

“That’s all I can tell you. Will you take the contract?” It was a rhetorical question. Jakob nodded his head very slowly. His mind screamed with power so tangible he shuddered but he could not refuse. Something in him would not allow it.

“Good,” it rumbled deep from within Mr. Corbin’s chest. “I will send a visual of the target to your laptop in your room. You will begin tomorrow.” Jakob stumbled out of the room and to the elevator that would take him to his room. Three steps into his room and he was as calm and composed as corpse. He would not let this assignment shake him. Jakob had been killing for years and he was determined to maintain a professional outlook on the mission. He crossed the room in long strides and flipped on his laptop. The soft clicking of the keys filled the room and a picture of the girl appeared on the screen. She was looking over her shoulder at the street behind her before disappearing into a dilapidated old house that sat between two apartment complexes. Jakob enhanced the shot to contain just her face. Her hair was shoulder length and dyed blonde. Her eyes sat well in her face and shined a brilliant green, most likely contacts. Jakob was drawn to her eyes. They looked as though they were seeing beyond just the street. They seemed to gaze almost into his room. Jakob was intrigued and brought his face closer to the image. Suddenly the girl’s eyes shifted and glared directly into Jakob. Jakob felt as though he had been stabbed. His chest heaved once and felt like it was going to explode, then again. Jakob screamed and fell from his chair clutching his torso. So much for maintaining a professional outlook. He lost consciousness after a minute of seizing on the carpet.





Jakob woke in his bed with Sarah running a cold stethoscope over his chest. She noticed his open eyes and tapped him hard on the sternum.

“And I though you were done with showing me your surprises.”

“What happened?” His voice was dry and it cracked as he spoke.

“Well, for lack of a proper medical term, your heart started beating for a minute.” It took a moment for the gravity of her words to take effect.

“What time is it?”

“It’s six in the morning. Why?”

“I have someone I need to find.” Jakob vaulted out of bed, pushing aside the protesting doctor. He slipped on the clothes he had been wearing last night and snapped up the DB9’s keys next to his computer.

“Jakob you are in no condition to be doing anything at the moment!”

“Sarah,” Jakob turned on the woman and hugged her tight, “I’m not your son. Besides,” he chuckled “I’m already dead. Worry about yourself. Something weird is going on. Stay safe.” Tears welled up in the doctors eyes and she squeezed Jakob tighter.





The wind spiraled through the window and ruffled Jakob’s hair. He gripped the steering wheel and couldn’t help but nod his head in time with the pounding tune of “Seven Nation Army” by The White Stripes that rippled through the car. He thought back to the would-be assassin at the restaurant. His taste in music had been good. Too bad his taste in earrings sucked. From the man at the restaurant his thoughts passed on to the girl he was supposed to kill. There was no doubt in his mind, her eyes had moved. They had looked right through him and somehow caused his heart to start beating again after sitting dormant behind his ribs for twenty years. Jakob had an uneasy feeling that the assassin and his prophesy of doom were connected to the girl and what had happened last night. He reached the address written in the dossier within and hour of leaving the bank and parked in the tiny driveway. Jakob stepped down from the door and went to the rear of the car. He lifted the trunk and opened a hard plastic suitcase. He let his glance slide over the two Uzis and his Smith and Wesson for a moment. With a sharp breath out his mouth, he shut the case with a decisive click and walked to the door unarmed.

The front door was clad in faded, peeling white paint. The knob was huge, brass, and covered in an ornate design that resembled a thorn bush. Jakob braced himself to smash it in with his shoulder, paused, and rang the bell instead. There was no answer. Looking around for any nosy neighbors, Jakob tried the knob and smirked as it rolled in place and the door creaked open. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Directly in front of him was a stair case that led up to a musty second floor.

“Hello?” he called. The only answer he received was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. Lightly he treaded past the stair and into an old living room. Heavy curtains muted the colors and gave the air a navy haze. Standing in the middle of the room, Jakob steeped himself into the memories of the house. Several people had died here. He could feel their presence in the wood work and in the cushions of the overstuffed chairs. Some had not died that long ago, maybe three or four years.

“What the…?” he muttered. A sharp chill dropped from the ceiling, hit his shoulders and made him gasp.

“No!” Jakob made a dash for the stair. He took them three at a time. His toe caught the top step and he fell into a hallway with doors lining the walls. Scrabbling back to his feet he yelled incoherently and bolted down the hall. The cold was growing stronger. He felt it attack his senses as he reached the third door on the left. Without so much as a seconds pause he crashed into the ancient wood and crushed it to splinters. Catching his footing, Jakob stumbled into a master bedroom with a large four-poster bed in one corner. A floor length mirror that stood in a wooden cradle reflected the image of a wide eyed Jakob. Lying in the center of the room was the girl.

Blood flowed freely from long, straight incisions that were carved from her wrist to the inside of her elbow. The chill wafted away as the last of her lifeblood soaked into the carpet. Jakob roared and shook with fury. He kicked what remained of the door into oblivion and took several deep breaths. Clenching his fists, he forced himself to calm down and step up to the body. Shivering, he let his sight slide out of focus. Slowly the color drained from the room. The contrast between black and white sharpened until it hurt his eyes and felt like it would cut his skin. Everything took on the appearance of a bad charcoal drawing. The chill returned and enveloped Jakob’s body.

“Who are you?” sighed a voice. Jakob turned his head and a small, distorted copy of the girl lying on the carpet swung into his line of sight. She hadn’t traveled far.

“I am Jakob. I am here to bring you back.” The spirit hung its head.

“There is nothing for me there. You can’t possibly understand. It’s better this way.” It shook its head and its hair swayed as if under water.

“I need you. You cannot leave yet. I need you to live. Won’t you come and dance with me?” Jakob was surprised at his own choice of words, but they felt proper. The faded shape did not move for a while but finally answered.

“Perhaps…one last dance.” Jakob smiled. The cold of death retreated from his face and the spirit reached out its hand. He took it lightly and pulled it down to the body on the floor. Color returned in a rush from the corners of his vision. The hand he was holding became solid and real. He ran his hands along the crimson cuts and they sealed. The girl’s lips parted.

“Music…” she croaked. Jakob found a stereo on a desk against one of the walls and hit play on the first song in the queue. When he came back she was sitting up and her eyes played across his face and body. He lifted her like a porcelain doll and cradled her in his arms. Slowly soft music began to play and Jakob recognized “Worry About You” by Ivy. As he held her he focused on pouring energy into her bone marrow and boosting her red blood cell output. They swayed back and forth and the science of his actions faded into the back of his mind to be replaced only by the music and the feel of her body against his. Her heart beat stronger against his chest and she was beginning to hold her own weight.

“I heard that you could kill me. Do you think you can?” whispered Jakob, bowing his head to reach her ear.

“I don’t want to think right now. Shut up and dance or I’ll kill me.”





Her thin frame shook while she heaved out her guts into the toilet. She had been like this for almost ten minutes now.

“You should have left me dead.” she moaned.

“Sorry,” grumbled Jakob, “I’ve never brought anyone back before. Usually I just put them there.”

“Glad to know I was the guinea pig.” She beckoned for her glass of water and Jakob handed it over. She sipped at it and leaned against the basin. She eyed Jakob over the rim of her glass and he felt as though she were seeing into his soul. He didn’t let it get to him. He knew he could put her back where she had been with no trouble if he felt it necessary.

“So…Jakob is it?”

“That would be me.” said Jakob, offering his best “pleased to meet you” smile.

“Well Jakob, my name is Haley.”

“Pleased to meet you Miss Haley.” She raised an eyebrow at the “miss” but seemed too tired to say anything. She waved him closer and let him support her.

“My room.” she said, pointing. He helped her across the hall and into the room where he had found her. She groaned audibly at the blood stains in the carpet and let Jakob lower her onto her bed. The time they had spent in death had seemed to be only a few minutes but moonlight was already filtering in through the drapes.

“You should get some sleep.” admonished Jakob.

“Please,” she laughed, “I haven’t slept in weeks. You up for some video games?” Jakob smiled. He dragged over the little television and worked Haley eight times consecutively in Sonic Riders. The ninth time her character didn’t even make it off the start line. Jakob turned to see that she had dropped off into her pillows. He pulled her legs up onto the bed, removed her shoes and socks, and covered her with an afghan. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he snagged a pillow from the other side of the mattress and lied down on the floor. Things were happening quickly, but not quickly enough. His mind raced with the possibility that he might be able to at last rest in peace. This girl, once she regained her strength, was his ticket out. All he needed was patience. She was in no condition to help him yet. Springs creaked and two pale feet dropped to the floor in front of his face.

“I sleep better with something warm next to me.” she muttered. She sounded embarrassed. Jakob nodded his head and she dropped down next to him. Jakob was dozing when he felt her pull his hand across her side, hold it against her belly, and snuggle under his arm. He fell asleep thinking,

Humans really are funny things.





Jakob woke early the next morning. Haley was missing from beside him but he could smell coffee being made downstairs. He rose to a crouch and stretched with feline grace. The effect of poise and posture was ruined, though, when he stood and shook himself vigorously like a dog. He grabbed a brush from a bedside table and ran it through his hair a few times. For the thousandth time he wished it were long enough to pull back into a pony tail, but once it reached a length just long enough to get in his eyes, it stopped growing. He guessed it was because that was how long it had been before he died. His clothes were wrinkled from sleeping in them, but there was nothing he could do about that. He made his way lightly down the stairs and jumped the last three steps.

“Good morning, Jakob.” called Haley. “Want some coffee?”

“No, thank you, I don’t drink coffee.” He stepped through the door into the kitchen and froze. Open on the breakfast table was his black plastic case and his revolver was resting beside it. Haley was holding one of the Uzis. She slammed in a fresh magazine, set it on the table, and turned to face Jakob.

“These were meant for me?” she asked, her eyebrow was arced in a question and her mouth was curved into a little smile.

“Yes. I don’t need them now though. I’m not going to kill you.” Haley nodded her head as if everything made sense.

“I knew that was why you were coming. I knew it two days ago when I saw you in a dream. You were sitting at a desk and you were looking very closely at me.”

“Curiouser and curiouser.” chuckled Jakob.

“Tell me about it.” growled Haley. “These…visions have been keeping me up for the past month. Things don’t stop there either. Some days I can’t get out of bed because the whole world seems to be tilting to the east.”

“There isn’t anything to the east except the garbage dump.” The memory of the days spent there surfaced in Jakob’s mind and he shuddered. Haley could tell he was nervous.

“You’re not fond of those dumps are you?”

“Not very much.” mumbled Jakob.

“Care to talk about it?” asked Haley. The way she spoke, Jakob could tell she wasn’t giving him an option.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not if you want me to trust you.” Haley took at seat at the table with a mug of coffee. It unnerved Jakob that with a glance this girl had convinced him to share his entire life story. Something he had never shared with anyone. He sighed and thought of how to start.

“I lived there for a while. A long while I guess. I wasn’t myself, you see, and I did some things I’m not proud of.”

“How long ago was this?” asked Haley.

“Maybe…nineteen or twenty years ago was when I first started living there. I moved to the city about five years ago.”

“You don’t look twenty.”

“I’m not. I’m thirty seven. You have to understand, I’m not like most normal people. I’m…”

“Dead?” her voice was flat and Jakob was a little impressed at the nonchalance with which she was handling the situation.

“Yeah. Some guy was stealing parts from the machinery they use to recycle the scrap and he saw me. He thought I would tell the police, so he shot me. His name was Thomas. How could you tell? Is it that obvious?”

“The fangs are a small giveaway even though it’s a fashion statement in some circles. I remember hearing stories of junkyard dogs and homeless people being killed around the dump about the time you would have been living there. They were drained of blood and had bite marks on their necks. Also, when you came to get me in death, you looked the same as you do now while I looked pale and small. Easy guess. Elementary, my dear Watson. The only part I don’t understand is how you’re walking around in the daylight and didn’t need my permission to cross the threshold of my home.” It took Jakob a moment to see what she was talking about.

“Oh, I’m not a vampire. I have no idea what I am.”

“So you didn’t kill those people and dogs?” Jakob’s face darkened and he grew sullen.

“Yeah, that was me. I told you. I did some things I’m not proud of. Something was wrong with me back then. I…I just wasn’t myself. I was something base…something vile, corrupt and very, very strong.”

“Any chance that Vile Jakob might pop up and surprise me sometime?” her voice was light but Jakob could tell she was frightened.

“I don’t know. Not if I can help it.” he said. His voice was laced with a vehemence that made Haley shiver.

“Good. That’s enough for me. I trust you.”

“Then will you give me back my case and arms?” asked Jakob. Haley threw the revolver into the plastic case and pushed it across the table to him.

“What about the Uzis?” asked Jakob.

“Is that what these are called?” Haley hefted the miniature SMG in her palm and smiled. “I like these. I think I might need them. Do you mind if I keep them?” Jakob waved his hand in assent.

“You can keep them and the revolver too if you like. I just want one small favor.”

“What’s that?”

“I need you to kill me.” Haley looked him up and down slowly.

“I knew you would ask me that.”

“Another vision?” Jakob asked.

“Yeah. I think I know what to do, but I can’t.” she said, her voice heavy as if she knew how much this let Jakob down.

“Why not?”

“I need you and your…abilities. I think you’ve probably felt it too but something big is happening. Something that you might be able to stop considering your…position.”

“What, the end of the world?” Jakob scoffed.

“Oddly enough…” Haley said. Jakob groaned loudly.





The morning sun had heated the DB9’s leather interior just enough to make holding the wheel uncomfortable. Jakob tried to offer the driver’s seat to Haley, but she backed down immediately. Jakob couldn’t help but smile at a girl who would share coffee with a suspected vampire but was afraid to drive a car.

“Where are we going?” asked Haley.

“My room. I have to tell my employer about my assignment.”

“And…that’s me?”

“Yes.” said Jakob. “So it might be best if you wait in the car.”

“No way. I want to meet the man who thinks he can just order me dead.” She cranked up the radio.





A sheet of cold, inhospitable air attacked Jakob’s senses as he stepped through the front doors of the bank. Everything was as he had left it. The same faceless bank tellers stood in the exact same position as when he left. He lengthened his stride and Haley half ran to keep up. He punched the button on the elevator and, when the doors did not open immediately, he mashed it again and again. It took him a moment to feel Haley’s hand on his arm.

“What’s the rush, Jakob?” she asked. He was scaring her and he knew it.

“Something isn’t right.” The doors opened slowly and Jakob fairly threw himself into the tiny suspended room. He pulled a key from out of his pocket and opened a little door under which was hidden a button to a private floor. Next to it was a smaller red button marked “Rush”. He punched them both and the elevator launched into the upper levels of the bank.

He left the elevator without looking to see if Haley was following and marched off down the hall. He reached the door to Mr. Corbin’s office and stopped, his hand fluttering above the knob. Haley stood next to him, panting with the effort of matching his pace. With a look at her flushed face, Jakob opened the door and walked into a dimly lit room. Behind the desk sat Mr. Corbin, his face veiled in shadow.

“Hello Jakob. Finally returned from the field, I see.” Something in the way he slurred the “s” in “see” made Jakob’s spine tingle. Suddenly the shape of the man behind the desk went rigid.

“She is still alive!?” he hissed like a frenzied teapot. “Your orders were specifically to kill her! Do you know what you have done!?”

“She has decided not to kill me. She is no longer a threat. The mission has been compromised.” The dark mass that was Mr. Corbin seemed to double in size.

“You fool! It was not your life I feared for! No one can kill you! She can, however, destroy you! And if she is still alive and here with you now then she has already succeeded!” Mr. Corbin writhed in his chair, cursing loudly. Jakob backed up a few steps and bumped into Haley. She was standing perfectly still and her pupils were dilated to an extreme.

“That isn’t a man, Jakob.” she whispered.

“What…?” asked Jakob. His eyes shifted back to the dark, concealed shape of the mock Mr. Corbin.

“Oh, he will be so displeased.” whimpered the thing. “What shall I do? I’ll have to kill her myself. That will please him. Yesss. Kill her…mysself.” Jakob pulled Haley back against the door and tried the knob. Locked. He scanned the room for another exit and knocked his head against a light switch on the wall. Ceiling lights bathed the area in fluorescent light. The creature in the Hugo Boss suit covered its face with its hands. Its skin was mottled and grey. Its throat had been ripped out and the gaping wound revealed an exposed esophagus. Scars and assorted lacerations marred its rotting flesh. In front of Jakob sat the remains of a once living Mr. Corbin. The monster raised its arms from its face and glared at Jakob through yellow eyes.

“So you see the price of my immortality. It was gifted to me before I knew what the side effects would be. I envied you and so I blindly accepted it. It is because of you I am like this!” Dead joints squealed in protest as the corpse leaped at Jakob from behind the desk. In life, Mr. Corbin had been a heavy man and the decayed, bloated creature that flew towards Jakob now was even larger. They collided with a thud like a two by four smashing an overripe melon. Jakob gasped as he felt his rips snap and his vertebral column break in several places. No doubt his femur was fractured as well. His body was grabbed in putrid hands and tossed like a rag doll across the room to collide with a large filing cabinet. The ominous sound of more broken bones filled his head. The beast clapped its dead hands together and laughed. The noise was like an electric engine filled with sand. It turned its cadaverous face to Haley and executed a sick and twisted copy of a smile.

“Well, my dear,” it gloated, “Don’t you look delicious today.” It licked its chops with a long black tongue in anticipation. Haley did not move. She remained perfectly still with her eyes wide and her face blank of any emotion. Mr. Corbin’s body sidled up to the girl and, with a shriek of bone on bone, unhinged its jaw. The maw inched closer and closer to Haley’s pale face when suddenly a silver letter opener ripped through the back of its throat and protruded from its mouth, the tip of the blade merely centimeters from Haley’s nose. The monstrosity screamed and tried to rip the blade from its head only to have its decayed flesh sizzle and burn when it touched the metal. Greasy smoke drifted to the ceiling as the tiny knife burned its way through the creature to the floor. All that remained after two minutes was a smoking pile of ash. Leaning against the desk, another letter opener in his hand, stood Jakob. His back was radically bent at a wrong angle and his chest was nearly flat. Slowly he stood erect and grimaced as a peal of snaps, crackles and pops emanated from his back so loud, it would have shamed Rice Krispies.

“I guess he wasn’t completely immortal.” said Haley in a monotone voice.