Her hair was grey, her face was as wrinkled as a prune and her voice was raspy.
It was hard to believe that Agnes was only fifteen years old.
"Revenge!" she yelled, as she hovered five feet off the floor. "REVENGE!!!"
Potato-chips bags, cans with beans, frozen waffles and cans with beer was some of the things that flew around the grocery store Doose's Market like mad comets. And in the center of the chaos was Agnes who kept yelling Revenge.
"And you have no idea what a class 6 ghost is doing in your supermarket?"
Police Sargent Karen Mack and her young partner Matt Smith had found shelter behind a shelf with Dean Taylor, the terrified owner of Doose's Market.
"No, I swear!" Taylor wimped as a bag of potatoes hit the shelf so hard that he thought it would tilt it. "Agnes works here as a bagger and have done so for a week. And then she goes all ghost and wrecks everything apar-"
A water melon had just shattered the glass door.
"Can't you do something!?" Taylor was getting desperate and all the chaos was not good for his health. After all, he was not a young man anymore. "You!" Taylor pointed at Mack. "Can't YOU do something?! You are a zombie!"
If Mack had eyes in her skull's empty sockets, she would have rolled them. "I prefer the term undead, and I'm sorry to disappoint you sir, but beside not having any meat on my bones, I'm about as magical as a crow."
"But you are the police! You are supposed to help me!"
“We want to help you, sir.” Smith said. “We called for backup who are more experienced with paranormal problems, but we have no idea when they will arrive. So, unless you can tell us more-”
“Oh, he can tell you PLENTY! Am I right, Deany?”
Taylor was even closer to getting that before mentioned stroke as someone grabbed him by the shoulder from behind.
“Hey, Cat.” If Mack had a face, she would look slightly relieved.
The vigilante of Twilight giggled. “Long time no see, Mack!”
Jill tried her best to run a more or less respectable bar.
But it was rather difficult sometimes. Like when seven pricks insisted to barge in when she was about to close shop and demanded to be served. They were a rather unlikable bunch these men. They were noisy, rude to her and her employees, and even made a big mess when they got so drunk that they began to knock each other around, causing a havoc. The wises thing to do when idiots like these made a habit of coming to your bar would normally be to call the police.
Unfortunately, these jerks WERE the police.
“And then…” One of the cops, an Asian guy, held his gun and pointed it at some imaginary fella who had dared to leave the men’s room. “And then… I will say: I don’t care what they do in Globe T or Los Angeles. In this city, we don’t do sooperheroes, cat-clown! So, STICK EM UP!”
Jill jumped, as the bullet hit a glass on the desk, bursting it to pieces.
“Yosh, if you met that guy, you would crap your pants.” One of his friends, the one with a broken nose, snickered as he clapped him on the back.
“I’ll crap YOUR pants!” Yosh pushed his buddy so hard that his chair tripped and he went down with it. The other three laughed. “Hey, Jill! Five more cold beers!”
Hans, the new guy she had hired, gave Jill an asking look.
“Do as they say, kid.” Jill sighed, as Hans went to the five jerks with refreshments.
… and then noticed that a new customer had arrived. She leaned over the bar desk with short, purple hair and a tired face.
“Hey.” She smiled so hat Jill could see that she was missing one of her teeth. “Can I have a whisky?”
“Actually, we closed half an… Ah, forget it.” Jill pored her a glass. The new customer paid and drank half of the fluid in the glass.
“Heh.” The woman scratched her messy hair. “Watered down.”
“If you got a problem, you can go somewhere-”
“Na, I don’t judge.” The stranger snickered. “In fact, I don’t mind at all. Makes it feel like coming home.”
“Been away from Twilight?”
“Yep, been out of town for a while now. But now I’m back.”
Jill didn’t get why anyone would return to her hometown.
The purple haired girl finished her drink, and then said: "Give me twenty-five bottles of beer."
"Twenty-five?" Jill raised an eyebrow. "I heard about drowning you sorrows, but-"
"Give me twenty-five bottles of beer to go," the woman said with her voice so low that only Jill could hear her. "and I will take care of those guys for ya."
If Jill's jaw had been long enough, it would have dropped to the floor. The stranger smiled to her in a I'm-not-kidding kind of way.
Jill too a look at the cops. They were harassing Hans.
"How..." Jill turned her attention toward the purple haired woman once more. "What about twenty bottles?"
"Tss! Cheapskate. Twenty-five or no deal."
Jill looked at the coppers again. One of them had grabbed Hans by the shoulder and held his chin. Hans looked terrified. The copper looked like he had gotten a dirty idea.
"Alright..." Jill gulped. She couldn't believe what she was about to agree to. "Twenty-five bottle."
The purple haired woman grinned, stood up and kicked her stool away. "Yo! Cop bastards!"
The police officers left Hans alone and turned their attention toward the lady at the bar desk.
"Apparently, your lives aren't worth squad!" From her bag, she drew out two daggers with odd symbols carved into them. "The nice lady here just paid me in beer to kill ya all!"
And then, she got shot in the face. Right between the eyes.