At last, she spoke.  "Mike, will you stop staring at me?"

"Oh.  Sorry Jenny.  I was just thinking," he spoke as he slowly lowered his eyes to his book.

"Yeah, well next time you think, try using less drool," she deadpanned in reply.  It occurred to her that this was probably the first time he had seen her in daylight.  They were both such creatures of habit, and their various duties allowed them only to be together in the evening.  So sitting there in a café on a sunny Sunday afternoon was paradise to her.

"That French guy you've done work for... umm... Amrande?"

"Amiel," she said correcting him.

"Yeah, ok.  You haven't say anything about him in quite a while.  Are you still working on that contract?"

A sort of hollow sadness came over her face for a moment.  "Things are a little slow right now.  I'm enjoying the break while I can."

From beyond the wrought-iron fence and flowerbeds, two cars collided in the intersection.  Two men jumped from the old Dodge, brandishing guns.  One of them shot the driver of the other car, while the other took pot shots at pedestrians and a few who had started to approach the intersection.

Wake up, Jenny.

People screamed and began to panic.  Some jumped the fence to try to escape into the shelter of the tables and umbrellas of the café, while others fled indoors  Mike grabbed Jenny's arm and started to drag her away as she stared at the carnage.

Wake up, Jenny.

Two more came out of the Dodge, joining their comrades.  They had looks of determination on their faces; hard, angry faces that gave no indication of care, no sign of humanity.  They killed as if it was their destiny to steal the lives away from those they chose.

Wake up, Jenny.

The world around her slowed, draining itself of color.  The blood of the innocents bleached, becoming glistening pools of mercury, reflecting the for men in the street.  The bullets raced from the guns and changed to streams of hollow light, each collapsing upon itself in the void of the colorless backdrop.

"I cannot condone this.  I cannot allow this to happen."  The words came from the air itself.

The four gunmen moved in slow motion, turning towards a point they could not see.  The void of this light they found themselves in faded from grey into black with the only light emanating form the pools of the deceased.

"Your lives are forfeit."

A brilliant flash of blue-white light caused the four to cringe, shielding their eyes as the guns melted form their hands.  Jenny stood before them, unmoving and rigid, not even breathing.  The four grinned and approached her, their malice giving forth an energy of lust and a dull red light from their eyes.  They reached for her, only to find empty space.

Jenny raised her hands as she appeared behind them, directing the pools of mercury to rise up and take shape, slowly morphing into bodies.  The men watched in awe.  Though unseen, they felt their car crackle and blow away like a pile of silt in a strong breeze.  The apparent leader of the men turned to face Jenny, raising his hands, reaching towards her.

"You're mine, bitch," he boldly announced.

Jenny smiled.  "You're a fool."

He felt his blood freeze as his bones ripped themselves apart from within the confines of his skin.  Pain careened over every inch of his form as he felt his body ripped away, leaving him cold and naked in ways he had never felt.

"Hell is too good for you.  Your repayment comes now."

The other three watched as the first man transformed and burst forth in brilliant light, showering the mercury people with droplets that changed from red to blue as they rained down.

Jenny peered at the others, looking into their souls, witnessing the many they had killed, raped, beaten, and stolen from.  Their lives were without color, without warmth - life without life.  They felt fear suddenly, the fear they had caused so many others to feel.  And with that fear came pain.  The three became one, for they could not see each other, and knew all that each had held.  Just as quickly as that happened, they were ripped apart, swirling and scattering, their memories stripped and destroyed, leaving only the energy that drove them.  Conducting the vortex of color, Jenny caused the light to reform, the colors of anger draining away, being renewed and funneled into those who had been slain.

"Wake up, Jenny."

Slowly, Jenny opened her eyes, the sunlight blinding her.  An open book lay on her chest and her nose felt uncomfortably warm.  Mike set his book down and leaned over, kissing her.

"Looks like your nose got sunburned," he chided her.  He smiled wryly at her.  "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired, that's all," she said as she stretched.  She reached for Mike to help her stand up.  "Let's go to the park?"

"You sure, Jen?"