Jace & Rosa

         For a moment, Jace felt the world fall away and he found a lost sense of peace in his brief non-existence. Although, he guiltily realized it wasn't deserved mere moments from nearly murdering his now presumed ex-girlfriend. He decided to let himself enjoy it before the other shoe dropped. He morbidly wondered what Hell would be like and how many of his friends and family he'd meet. A curl of dread traveled where he felt his spine should be at the thought of re-meeting Uncle Tony.

He shook that thought and forced his mind silent to bask in the nothingness. If he had a face, it'd be the picture of pure elation. The welcomed calm frayed as his mind wandered. Faythe's adrenalin-sweetened blood still lingered on the memory of his lips, and he couldn't help but to recall drinking in her memory of cheating on him.

Jace remembered only bits and pieces of what followed and only then from watching helplessly outside his body. He tore into her neck as she cried for him to slow down, to stop. Jace remembered eagerly swallowing copious amounts of blood, electrified by the adrenalin and other nice chemicals the brain creates when it's about to die violently.

Each red cell absorbed by the back of his tongue fueled her memory of fucking her soon-to-be -ex-husband in vivid, multisensory detail. It enraged him to the point that it became the only thing that was real. It encapsulated his entire world and somehow made everything right and horribly wrong at the same time. Then black.

Jace began to fall, his limbs slowly returning to him as if he were only anesthetized and not caught between ethers. His torso and head soon followed and he gazed down to see a quiet darkened street racing to meet him. Before he found his voice to scream, a red minivan drove serendipitously beneath him and broke his fall.

The van moved unabashed long enough for Jace to take inventory of probable and definite broken bones. Before he could draw a breath through his shattered ribs, the van laid on the brakes. Jace ragdolled past the cracked windshield and met the pavement in a broken heap.

Through his blackening sight, he watched the woman nonchalantly step out talking incredulously on her cellphone. Jace furrowed his eyebrows as the girl smiled excitedly at him.

"Rosa, he came OUT. OF. THE. SKY!" She covered her mouth and stared up, giggling. The song 'It's Raining Men' drifted from the open door. After a few uh-huhs and OKs, the girl adopted a practiced professional tone and kicked him onto his back. She studied his face in the blaring headlights. Jace opened his mouth to talk and could only whimper vowels through his broken jaw. She shook her head dismissively and turned back to the phone.

"He's turning, and it's not far along. You want him?"

He watched her nod slightly and hurried into the van. She reemerged with a syringe and a large black bag with a giant zipper on its side. As she placed her hand on his chest to hold him in place, she sighed disappointedly and raised the syringe above her head.

"It'll all be over soon." She nodded sorrowfully. "I promise."

The needle buried into Jace's impossibly still beating heart and he returned to his peaceful place in the ether where he dreamed of caskets, blood, and Uncle Tony's bright red van.