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Post by Skeleton Key on Jul 20, 2006 8:15:04 GMT -5
I'm sorry for not commenting! It's just, my head grew legs and ran away. Yeah, that's it.
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Post by remina16 on Jul 20, 2006 10:15:55 GMT -5
That was a very exiting chapter. And i just loved how you wrote the ending of it. You wrote it in the way so people just wanna now the rest of it. I`m looking forward to read more
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Post by Dismay on Jul 20, 2006 10:50:32 GMT -5
That was good as always PJ. I hope you post more soon.
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Post by PJ on Jul 20, 2006 18:31:59 GMT -5
It should have eight chapters, Dante. I've already done seven, so...
Yeah, thanks for the comments, guys.
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Post by Linda Rhaldeen on Jul 20, 2006 23:56:01 GMT -5
Sorry about not commenting earlier, PJ. I really liked the multiple senses that J. has.
And this is to make this post unique and hopefully get an answer to a question I've been wondering. Who keeps smiting PJ? He's gone down nearly 10 karma in the past couple of weeks, and that's even with me exalting him. He's not that bad is he?
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Post by PJ on Jul 30, 2006 5:58:00 GMT -5
Sorry for being so late. I'm just overworked and all. I'm going on a classtrip till next Friday, so don't expect anything till at least then.
Chapter Six – The Meeting
“Oh.” Said Jenna, falling into a seat. “Yes, it appears to be the same guy as last time. He was taken by surprise, and killed from behind. The murderer also left some…traces.” Said Libitina curtly. She looked tired. “Traces? Like, blood?” “Well, yes. Blood. And a lock of his hair.”
Jenna sighed loudly. “Both belong to PJ.” Jenna nodded. She had been expecting this. “The samples could have been taken from PJ when he was abducted, but the blood was fresh, so the murderer would have had to have kept it that way somehow. But why? Why try and frame someone who could not have committed the crime?”
“Well, it’s probably the clone trying to prove PJ’s innocence. Nothing else makes sense. Although, as I understand it, PJ rejected his clone, the clone must still feel some affection for him, to have done this.” Jenna said, after a moment of thought. “My thoughts exactly. Now, what’s this about evidence?” Jenna handed over the file.
“There was blood on Poe’s pants that didn’t belong to him. I got Gretchen to run some tests…it’s PJ’s blood.” “I thought all of the blood was Poe’s? And how does that prove that it wasn’t PJ?” “Well, for your first question, I’d blame lazy policemen. As for the second one, my evidence is this: This much blood could only come from a descent sized wound. And I’m willing to bet that PJ didn’t have one, when you checked him, a few hours after the murder.” Libitina nodded. “He was unmarked.” She was silent for a moment. “It’s possible that his wound healed, but it IS improbable. This, in combination with the other evidence might be enough to release PJ. At the very least, it will post-pone the trial until we find some more evidence.” Jenna nodded “Oh, and by the way, we checked out that abandoned warehouse that PJ was abducted to. We found traces of someone living there, but not anymore. He must have left the instant PJ did.” She was silent for a moment.
Libitina’s face turned serious. “Your help in this investigation has been invaluable, J. But you’ve done all you can. There is a murderer out there, and we have to catch him. This doesn’t require detective work, it requires police. So I suggest you go home, and start spending that money PJ owes you. If anything happens, anything at all, I’ll give you a call.” Jenna nodded, and stood. She could think of a lot of things she could do with PJ’s money. As she left, a grin appeared on her face.
She didn’t awake till twelve. Normally, she’d go right on sleeping, especially since her head felt several sizes too large (PJ’s money had circulated through quite a few of 667’s pubs last night). But not today. Today, she had large quantities of money. And it, like her head, was far to big for her liking. Money was there for the spending, and if Jenna’s wallet was anything but empty, something was wrong.
She rolled off bed, landing with a dull thud on the floor, and passed out for another twenty minutes, her alcohol-logged brain not being able to cope. When she came to, she crawled into a shirt, and some pants, and then went back to bed. She woke up half an hour later, after remembering that she had money to spend. And then she was off. She was going to have breakfast in town; it goes without saying.
Today, she thought, was decidedly not one of those days. And she was determined that it would be so. Determination is a nice thing to have, but when fate rears its ugly, misshapen head, not even something as nice as determination helps. It is because of fate that I am sitting here, writing this for a bunch of teenaged pseudo-intellectuals, instead of lording it over the pygmy creatures in the equatorial rainforests of central Africa. It is entirely fate’s fault, I’m sure, that you are reading this text at the moment, instead of, say, bullying small children for their lunch money, or playing hopscotch with a gang of 90-year old war veterans. The other!PJ, of course, was also a product of fate, instead of some kind of darker, absolute, core evil-creature archetype which the High Fantasy Genre is so fond of. And so it was that Jenna arrived at her favorite café that afternoon, and found PJ sitting at her favorite spot, and had just had lunch. Removing her hat, she warily approached, and sat down. He was reading the paper, and looked up at her, a surprised look on his face. This look quickly changed into one of alarm, and then faded into a neutral, expressionless look. Jenna realized that she had not, as she previously thought, 12 (or 13, if you include the toast/theft one) senses, but 14. And it was this newly discovered 14th sense that told her that this was not PJ, but his clone.
He tensed, and her 12th sense tingled (the one that notified her if she was about to be attacked). She pulled Walter from her fedora, and held him lazily in her hand. “Hello.” She said, but the imposter’s eyes were fixed upon the knife. He pulled his own out of his sleeve, and smiled. “This,” He said, “Is the knife that Mr. Poe tried to stab me with when I was in the act of strangling him.” He said, calmly. “I rather like it. I used it to slit Snicket’s throat, and kill those five policemen.”
Jenna tensed. She was good, but this guy was a murderer. In her line of work, such people were common, but she herself had never got around to killing anybody. “Oh, I’m not going to hurt you, Jenna. You’re my friend.” “Friend? I prefer not to associate with psychopathic murderers.” Other!PJ’s grin widened. He put the knife down on the table. Jenna, however, kept Walter in her hand.
“Come now, J. You rub shoulders with most, if not all of the mafia bosses in this town. They’re murderers, too. And would you like something?” He asked, graciously signaling to a waiter. Jenna was somewhat surprised, but nodded. “I’ll have a coffee and a croissant, thanks.” She said, before turning back to other!PJ.
“They all have good reasons for what they do.” Jenna said, in an undertone. “As do I.” Said PJ’s clone, and grabbed the last bread roll from the basket. “Such as?” Other!PJ picked up his knife, and Jenna stiffened, but he only used it to spread butter on his bread. “That can’t be hygienic.” Jenna pointed out.
“I washed this after using it.” Other!PJ said, and took a bite out of his bread. “And my reasons are simple: I didn’t like Snicket, and I liked Poe even less. And I killed those guards because I wanted to save PJ, because I felt bad that he should suffer because of my crimes.” He said, after he had finished chewing. “Well, in our society, that makes you a psychopathic murderer, I’m afraid to say.” “I guess it does. Your police, no doubt, will try and capture me, and I will do my best to escape. That’s how it works. I am what I am.” “And what, exactly, are you?” Jenna asked, hungrily staring at his bread roll. She needed food. And coffee.
“As far as I can ascertain, I am a glitch. Proboards screwed up again, I suppose. Somehow, something happened, and now there are two PJ’s. I dunno how it happened, but happen it did.” “But you aren’t like PJ. PJ doesn’t kill people for no reason.” “No, he doesn’t. I had this discussion with him, actually. It ended with him calling me a monster. Have you got any idea what it’s like to have what is essentially you a called you a monster?”
“So, what is different?” “I’m not sure. If we are born with certain rules, certain guidelines, then I was born without them. You could say I was born without a soul. If we are formed by our experiences, then it is those I lack. I was just formed in this society, without being brought up at all. I’m like a baby, see. Albeit a highly intelligent and knowledgeable one.”
“So…does that mean there is potential for change?” Jenna asked, as her lunch (or breakfast) arrived. “I doubt it. I’ve already killed seven people…the chance of me learning morals at this point is highly unlikely. It’s more comfortable for me to just do whatever I want.” “But you can’t just do whatever you want! Society won’t allow it!” Jenna argued, as the caffeine from the coffee entered her veins. It was good coffee, too. She resolved to come here more often.
“It probably won’t. But, as I’ve already said, I’m willing to fight society for what I want.” “And what is it that you want?” Other!PJ laughed. “Precisely being able to do whatever I want. That, and power.” “And how will you achieve these goals?” “I can kill two birds with one stone simply by taking over 667.” “What, with some kind of harebrained replace-PJ-scheme?” Jenna asked, incredulously. “Ha. No. I’m old school. I’ll be using an army.” “An army! And where exactly will you be getting one?”
“Ah, I can’t tell you that. I’m sorry, but, really, I’ve already told you plenty.” “Why have you told me so much anyway? Is it one of those gloating things before you kill me?” “Nope. I always criticize the bad guys in movies for that. No, like I said, I won’t hurt you. I’m just telling you because you’re here, and it won’t do you any good, anyway. I mean, I’m already a mass murderer. It’s not like they can search for me any more than they already are.”
“But you aren’t exactly like PJ, then. He’s not power hungry.” Jenna countered, starting on the croissant. “Isn’t he? That’s why he became Police Chief, after all. He just has morals, so he’s doing it the normal way. Climbing the social ladder, all that.” “So you’re exactly like him?” “Well, physically, yes. I have all of his memories, and knowledge, as well as personality. The only thing I lack is, as I’ve said, morals, as well as his Detriment Deleter powers.” “Ah. So that’s how you knew who I was. When I sat down just now.” “And how I was able to break into the police station without being stopped. Yes.”
“So…what happens now?” Jenna asked. “Now,” PJ said, standing up. “I return to my lair – don’t try following me, by the way – and plot. You, on the other hand, will probably run to the nearest police station.” Jenna nodded. “Well, until we meet again. Although you are my friend - or, better said, PJ’s, and thereby mine as well - I regret that that won’t stop me from harming you if you get into my way. Goodbye.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving Jenna to contemplate the conversation she had just had. Her musings were interrupted by a waitress, who arrived with the bill for the entire meal. “Bastard.” Said Jenna, and fished out her wallet. For, that, she decided, other!PJ would pay. He had underestimated her, by telling her his plans. And it would cost him. She set off to the nearest police station.
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Post by Dismay on Aug 3, 2006 7:36:17 GMT -5
Oooh, another great chapter. This is quite cool. The new sense is awesome too. And this ominous army sounds interesting. Keep up the good work!
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Post by Dante on Aug 5, 2006 12:31:32 GMT -5
[generic comment]
I think you already told me about some of this. Or I read it somewhere. But I like how you're doing things, and I'm enjoying this story.
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