I have a confession to make.

I just wrote this. Just now. Completely on a whim. No editing, no reviewing, no letting it sit and age in my documents folder. Just posted like a newbie putting up their first feeble attempts at a fic. It's way too short, a bit weird, and, on top of all of that, I already have plans for chapter two.

So PLEASE, tell me the truth. If it's awful, tell me, so I don't waste time writing more. If it could be improved, please, I welcome all suggestions. If you like it, of course, your review would be equally honored. Just please, please, tell me if I'm an idiot so I don't do it again. Thanks a lot. I love you all.


Lisa didn't think she could take much more of it.

It had started at Cynthia's house. One of Cynthia's many friends, a slightly more gothic girl, had insisted that they all watch a wonderful thriller movie called From Hell. Of course, she had to add that it was about Jack the Ripper.

That in itself would have given her nightmares that night, no doubt. But it hadn't helped that, when she moved to another room, she'd found the younger children watching Nightmare Before Christmas. And then the older ones right at the part of Pirates of the Caribbean where Jack turns into a skeleton.

Then there was the TV: Shoulin Showdown featured a villain named Jack Spicer; the Batman special showed Jack Napier becoming a homicidal maniac; the commercial featuring Jack Bruce albums; and, of course, the ad featuring "AOS's flagship product, JACK, provides the tools required to develop autonomous software systems that are both goal-directed and reactive."

At that point she vaguely remembered dissolving into tears.

She was already over the edge of sanity – already too far lost to care. But she had left the car radio on.

She shouldn't have been surprised.

She was.

She lay where the impact had thrown her, unable to reach for the seatbelt-cutter or her cellphone or even attempting to wriggle out of the ruins of her car. All she could do was lay there, crooked, pain flaring through her body but not registering in her crazed mind, head thrown back, laughing and crying and screaming –

"Jackson!"

"Jackson, you son of a bitch! Why are you doing this to me? Why are you following me? Why won't you go away? Why won't you leave me alone?"

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Why?"

Her body numbed. Her mind began to shut down. Tiny fringes of darkness appeared on the edges of her vision and grew quickly, surrounding the glass and the steel and the blood and the night sky and consuming them, disintegrating everything to black.

But she could still see his face.

TBC . . .