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JackCain · (05-11-2017)

**Jack Cain walks down a street in one of the seedier parts of New York. Both sidewalks are full of people - despite the fact it's around 3am. Neon lights provide the only illumination, throwing gaudy colours against chipped brickwork and cheap frontages of strip clubs, nude bars and sex shops. Women in short skirts, revealing tops and suspender belts strut along the concrete, offering their services to desperate and eager men with money to spend on pleasures of the flesh. Homeless people cower in the shadows, afraid to move into the fluorescent light for fear of being conned by one of the women - and men - who stalk the sidewalks. One man though, walks determinedly through them, with a purpose. Cain is dressed all in black - t-shirt, jeans and black combat boots, with a heavy black combat jacket over the top. He wears black fingerless combat gloves, with heavy pieces of metal stitched over the knuckles. He flexes his fists as he wades deeper into the muck of the perverted scene. A tall blonde woman wearing virtually nothing offers him "the night of his life". He returns her offer with an angry growl**

This place makes me fuckin' sick. Look at it. Prostitutes, junkies, hobos, perverts, scum who will sell you a dirty movies for 80 dollars that kids in high school are downloadin' for free. They all fuckin' thrive here, like no one can touch 'em, and even if they could they'd just run away like rats and pitch up somewhere else with their depraved shit.

Nothin' about this place is worth savin'.

You know what the worst part of this is? It ain't that it exists - it's the fact it's allowed to exist. No fucker gives a damn. Nobody cares that this is goin' on right under their noses. They just let it happen - cos deep down, all of 'em - all of you too - want a little piece of this. You want a little tug on your cock for a night's entertainment when your girl got a headache. You want a hand on your pussy when boyfriend can't be bothered to take you out on fuckin' "date night" or whatever it is you bunch's pussies call it these days.

You all want a piece of this. You're all quite happy to let it happen because you're all fuckin's sick at the end of the day. That's why this scum can get away with it, because of your indulgence. You don't wanna get rid of it because it's a part of you, the part you all like to lock the fuck away and pretend don't exist, but really, it's what you let out when you wanna just let off a little steam.

**Cain walks into a strip club on his right. He barges past the queue outside, not responding to the angry expletives being hurled his way from the frustrated patrons he's bypassed. The bouncer - a huge, bald headed man with a thick bushy beard in a white t-shirt and leather pants, steps in front of him and tells him to get to the back of the line. Cain drives his fist into the man's gut, his ribs cracking with a wet popping noise. He grabs the man's wrist and twists it, snapping it and he lets out a cry of agony. Finally, he backhands him across the top of his head, sending him face down into the gutter behind him. He tells the people in the line to leave before entering the club**

Places like this breed scum. Places like this breed people like Jenny Myst. Sure, she'll tell you she's the product of a broken home, and her foster father made her dance to pay the bills.

Boo fuckin' hoo.

Sluts like this enjoy the fuckin' life. You could'a gone and worked in a 7/11 couldn't ya? Could'a gone and got an education, could'a got out while you could, but no, it was just easy to take your fuckin' clothes off and let guys rub their cocks on you. It's fuckin' too easy cos you like it.

**Cain walks to the bar, shoving past topless waitresses and men transfixed by the nude dancers on podiums in the centre of the room. The twirling lights create a kaleidoscope of colour on his face, now fixed in an expression of pure hate. He turns to the bartender**

"Bottle of Jack," Cain says to the bartender.

**She places the bottle on the bar. Cain regards the scene in front of him**

There's at least five guys in here on six figure salaries. Three priests, six teachers and those four in the corner are off duty cops. Any one of them could take a stand against places like this - against people like Jenny Myst, but they just sit here and fuckin' play with themselves.

Which brings me to the bitch in question. Bein' as none of these other fuckin' losers could string two words together and answer me, I gotta turn to you, and here on your turf seems as good'a place as any.

Yeah I complimented ya on having a brain, but maybe I was fuckin' wrong. After all that "you're ugly" shit? Jesus Christ, I thought you could'a come up with something at least a little more inventive. I was expectin somethin' like I'm secretly sexually frustrated and that's why I can't handle a woman like you, but ugly? Fuckin' Hell, I've had that since I was five, so it ain't gonna make a difference now.

No man has ever taken you out? You ain't in the ring with a man darlin'. you're in there with a fuckin' monster, and I don't give a shit if you're man, woman, animal, mineral of vegetable, if you're a fuckin piece of shit, then I will hurt you. I will beat your plastic ass so fuckin' badly they'll need a fuckin' construction engineer to put your face back together. I will put you down Myst, and pretty much like that pussy you stroked just for me - it ain't gonna be pretty.

**Cain reaches into his coat and pulls out a lighter. A doorman, having found his colleague outside, has made his way to Cain**

No smokin' in here, fucker, and no punchin' the staff, now fuck off.

**Cain fakes a smile and jabs the man across his jaw. He grabs the back of his head and drives his knee into his nose, sending blood cascading over several nearby strippers and their clientele. Cain opens the bottle of whiskey and pours it over the bar, before tipping the remainder over the man he's just incapacitated. He leaps over the bar as the bartender gets out of the way. He picks up liquour bottles and throws them at the stage, sending the strippers running in all directions. A couple of the watchers start to make their way to him, before seeing Cain, then swiftly back off. The room now stinks of alcohol. Cain uses the lighter to set fire to the man on the floor, who quickly regains consciousness and starts to scream. He then lights the bar and the floor tiles, watching for a second as the room begins to burn. Finally at some semblance of peace, he walks back out of the front door as panic ensues in the street. Cain's expression dissolves form anger to blank as the club is engulfed in flames behind him**

[Image: tumblr_o4duu56WjT1uewdrio2_500.gif]

[Image: tumblr_o4duu56WjT1uewdrio2_500.gif]

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