Jack M. Hatchet's Story

let his hand down in disappointment. A brief chuckle slipped out, as he arched his brow, and a slightly wry smile curled about his face. Hatchet took a moment of his own and crossed his hands behind his back; he flexed his arms and stretched, still in the same position. "Just a friend... That's not important though."

The snow fell silently about. One could hear a pin drop. but Hatchet was completely fixated on Marcus.

Dastardly claws

Dastardly claws began to grow from the tips of his fingers. The time was ripe. The seconds slowing with each meter of tension in the air.

"I beg to differ about who is and is not important." Scott began to tilt his head to the side and look upon Jack only to smirk. "You know you could almost be called a murderer if you butcher a good story but then again one can get away with a lot in this town so tell me who it was."

Jack M. Hatchet Hatchet was a decisive being. There was no doubt in his mind for half the decision he made. However... Why not reveal Fedelia? This thoguth was not disclosed upon his face, but as a single second passsed, he decided she was worth concealing if he wanted to gain future leads.

Hatchet leaned forward just a touch, so that Scott could hear the forthcoming response. He merely whispered. "How significant do you think you are, Scott?" Hatchet's big colorful eyeballs smiled with anticipation.

This is what Scott had always wanted, conflict, and it was this man who was about to deliver when he leaned in and whispered that rhetorical question. "You know you just cannot kill off the main character of any story and I am tired of your rhetoric." The air around Scott began to heat up as a small patch of black fire would just begin to come to life upon his shoulder while he took a single step back.

Immediately, Hatchet's smile disappeared; it was replaced with a pensive, and profound glare. "There is a time for everything, Scott. Now... It's time for you to die."

Hatchet let gravity take over; his knees buckled under him, subsequently squatting. Sparing no second, he un-crossed his arms from behind his back, and would spring himself forward at Scott; like a cat pouncing a mouse. The force from the tackle would likely mke Scott crash onto the ground, and Hatchet's foul claws would clasp themselves onto Scott's right thigh, and inner left rib; the claws would easily tear through the flesh.

"Wrong move!" Scott was no longer bound to the seals that he had been preveusly from the Council and so when Jack made his immediate move the small black flame from hell would grow into a rather large torrent of black hellfire that seemed to fill the entire walkway and would push the man back if not incinerate him if he could not get out of the way. Scott was no fool and he was lucky that he had more control of his ability as he could have been killed within that instant if he had to release one or two of his seals. "I will tell you something rather interesting just for shits and giggles!" Scott shouted over the loud flames he had conjured. "This is only a fraction of my power!"

Hatchet's acute eye lenses took heed of the fire on Scott's shoulder at the first distinguished flicker. He didn't survive his vitality training against super-human Vampires because of anything. One had to have speed when taking part in combat. Hatchet's feet touched the ground, and he swiftly bounded of the side-walk and toward the front side of a building next to them; his leap was only three feet tall, but that was enough to get a single foot on the structure's wall. With premise he instantly leapt higher upward through the upper licks of the scorching flames; only to have the corner of his left shoulder singed. It wasn't a small burn, but it only lasted a second, thus scorching off the shoulder of his suit. The skin appeared as melted rubber, and blood oozed from the minor wound.

Hatchet landed only a couple yards away from Scott; he was positioned diagnally on Scott's right side, and on the edge of the street. Hatchet didn't even eye the wound. He took no time to stand around, and stare into his offender's eyes. He began to sprint toward Scott, his eyes dashing about over his adversary. They were zooming in and out on Scott's figure, consecutively. He would suddenly dash to his left, making his behind Scott, and subsequently performing a somersault. Whatever this man blasted at him, he would escape it. It was how he was trained.

For his next attack, Hatchet would need more sufficient claws. It would take a few minutes for them to creep up is skin fully. "You got me, but let's seeif you can try that again. Hm?" A vile smirk was revealed.

"Don't need to." Scott simply replied as he went down to one knee only to slam his right fist into the ground and smirk as the entire street would begin to rumble. "Mother always said if you cannot kill something with ease then take out an entire city block!" Several torrents of black flames would shoot out from the ground while Scott began to mutter a few words to himself while more and more of the dark flames would begin to surround him eventually protecting him in a large black flaming sphere.

The quake startled Hatchet, before he quickly raced across the street, bouncing over the cracks. It was a consistent 'stop and run' maneuver when avoiding the flames. He was counting the seconds until the creeping substance on his arms would be applicable to go against the fire. "Still can't touch me!" Hatchet laughed before he would dynamically flip, leap six feet into the air, and dive to the ground to sprint toward another building.

It was far to late for jack now as the flames would dissipate around Scott leaving him smiling like a maniac who had just found the most enjoyable thing in the world. Slowly Scott would raise his right hand and pointer up to were jack was moving about only to allow his wicked grin to grow even more. "System restraints lv 4, release." Scott muttered as his body would glow for just a second before sending a burst of the dark flames in every direction shattering windows and killing animals large and small that were nearby and if Jack were to survive he would see Scott change drastically before his very eyes; growing a tail, horns, and even a pair of ethereal like wings. Scott was in his true form now and laughing like the mad man he was. "Perfect summon your powers, call upon your familiars, I wish to see bloodshed tonight!"

Hatchet's claws were fully formed now. Not invulnerable, but willing to shield from, or eviscerate most substances. His eyes glanced over at Scott. Hatchet noted how his finger was pointed at the building, and his drastic transformation. His eyes narrowed in on the duely noted 'half-demon' with disgust. He hopped back from the building as the flames crashed in al directions. A slight anxiety took over, and his erratic lense scanned for a way to escape. "There!" he exclaimed under his breath. Suddenly, he dashed into a side alley. His figure was shaded, as he began to slink away. He waited for the other monster to pursue. "What filth." Hatchet huffed as he laid in wait.

Jack M. Hatchet slipped his slender frame through the entrance of Gambit's. He cleared his throat slightly, as to expect the other patrons to note his presence; however, it was more out of preparation for what ever foul thing might appear in this place. He straightened his tie, and made a lethargic trot over to the bar-counter. He patted his ivory pal on the top of the counter. "Tender, my drink." His tone was somewhat sharp.

Hatchet responded with an arched brow at the presently abrupt discussion. His eyes scrutinized the protruding broad sword the woman held, and dragged around aimlessly. He tried to take a sip of his drink, but another loud set of words from the same woman interrputed him. "Keep your issues to yourself." This was to all the person in the bar. He needed his quiet time.

A light, yet sarcastic chuckle escaped his lips. He peered at Zane. "How is that little girl going to corrupt whatever plans you have?"

Jack M. Hatchet tilted his head at the individuals. Another curious, yet concerned expression creeped about his face. Illustirous eyes carried spiteful claims at the apparent blind man. "Disgusting, but interesting." he said. How odd these people were; he sighted the slender girl's hand pop up.

Hatchet chuckled at the girl. "Who are you people?" he asked Gina. Sarcasm littered his voice, and he wasn't expecting a reply, due to how tense their current business seemed to be.

"The-..." Hatchet wasn't allowed to finish, as a considerably loud laugh echoed about the bar. He lifted his hand to his face, and covered his face. "You'll have to work on that." Hatchet scoffed.

Hatchet raised his eyebrows as he turned away from the group, and slipped in a first sip of his drink. He suddenly scowled and jolted his head back, as he glared down at the flat liquid in the glass. Hatchet pushed it away with the back of his hand. His eyes narrowed in on the tender, Dom. "This is disgusting." he protested, and motioned his hand at the glass. He leaned in over the bar-conter, to whipser. "Give me some perspective on what type business those people are in, and you won't even have to serve me another drink." He wasn't looking forward to drinking anymore, as is.

"Special Cases...? What does that specify? They send people with special cases..." Hatchet lifted his hand and cuffed his fingers over an eye; he was referring to the blind man. "... out to do what?"