Prologue

...March 9th, 1996 (10 years before—2 ½ years before the sisterly reunion)...

...10:52pm—outside the Stardust night club of Boston...

Walking out of the nightclub with two friends (BFF's), laughing—enjoying themselves, having a great time. Walked together in a strong group as they waited on the sidewalk, hailing for a cab to be taken home, safely as they were alittle too intoxicated by alcohol and not permitted to drive—taking a cab was the most sensible and appropriate decision. Holding the door as her friends, climbed in the back then leaned out the window and said. "Aren't you coming?" Julie asked.

"Nah, I'll ride home." Rachella answered, leaning over—softly glanced her friends, softly smiled. "You can't! Get in, you drank too." Serena protested. "That would be true if I did drink, alcohol but luckily for tonight, I didn't. I have to work in the morning." Rachella added.

"Alright—burp! Oh, pardon me. Let's just ho—hope that I don't—I think, I'm gonna—" Julie pulled back in and then quickly opened the other door, emptied all contents on the road—luckily it were very busy as the nightclub is established away from the main street. "Ugh! Gross. Now you make me wanna to puke, Jules." Serena disgustedly glanced.

"I better let you girls go or the meter will go sky rocket." Rachella insisted. "Call us when you get home." Julie pleaded. "Don't worry so much, Jules—you'll get wrinkles." Rachella joked.

"I will not—do you look I have one right now?" Julie quickly searched through her bag and looked the pocket mirror. "Goodnight, girls." Rachella farewelled, walking away. Both young women, poked their heads out and replied. "Night—don't let the night bugs bite!"

Rachella stopped, turned and smiled, giggling then continued on to the alleyway where her motorcycle waited in the dark. Unknowingly that she was followed by three male strangers that sought for trouble or something—to satisfy their urge.

Walking down the alley, searching through her little handbag for the key to her motorcycle—when she noticed other footsteps than her own, quickly looked over her shoulder. Showed complete no interest and assumed they were also passing through—watching above, in the winding shadows.

Crouching on the rooftop's ledge, vigilantly watched as the unaware young woman is targeted for unwanted violence that is planned by three vile men—whom wished to satisfy their certain—needs.

Continued searching through her bag, then as she finally found what was needed—not noticeably vigilant, taken from behind. Dropped her keys and bag as she tried to break free but wasn't strong enough—dragged to the nearest, what appears to be covered by a large dumpster. Viciously thrown down to the ground, upon a large filthy torn and laid down cardboard box—tried to get back up only to be violently slugged, on conscious.

The three men argued, whom will be first as their tempers worsen. Meanwhile, up above and behind them—Neesa watched, grew angry, taking out of her pocket three darts and dart thrower. Preparing to shoot the first in the vile men.

The leader of the group had finally decided whom will be first while two watched on and waited their turn. As the first stepped forward and unzipped his denim, he quickly turned when a loud yelp filled the air.

"What the hell?" one exclaimed

"Brent!" another shouted, kneeling to his friend's side. Gasping, choking upon his own blood as the darts pierced his jugular. Quickly re-dressed himself and went to his friend's side—leaving the young woman be.

"What happened? Brent—hang on." Anthony pleaded. Leaned his head back and took his last breath then died. The two friends, lowered their heads and lowly sobbed—unknowing they were hunted and will be punished for their vile intentions.

Leaped down from the rooftop, hid in the shadows and watched on as the two men—looked about, whom had murdered their friend. Took another dart from her belt and targeted the second man—targeting his throat.

Received the dart in his jugular also, instead of enduring a slow agonizing death—he died instantly as the dart had pierced deeply and met with the main artery. "David!" Anthony cried.

"No one can save you—vile fiend." She lowly growled, viled with disgust as she unsheathed her sword quickly.

"Who are you—come out!" Anthony demanded. Neesa stepped out from the shadows, partly. Anthony glared with erotic smirk but felt angry as his friends laid on the ground, their blood split. "Pretty lil thing, you are—aren't you? Let's not play with dangerous toys."

"That is quite far enough—don't move any closer." Neesa demanded, lowly—pointing her sword towards his throat. "Let's not play this game, c'mon—put it down."

"Let's not."

"I'm afraid I'll have to hurt you then." He replied. "Not if I hurt you first." She told him, lowly. "We'll see, girly." He mused, smugly

"Shouldn't said that, lil man." Neesa warned. He smirked, tried to disarm her—scuffled alittle then, blood poured. Covering the pavement beneath their feet, glaring into eachother's eyes—then he looked down and saw the sword—Neesa pulled the sword out from his gullet, stepped back as he fell to the ground whilst placing an open palm upon the wound.

Sheathing her sword in its cover then turned, knelt down and brushed the back of her fingers upon her cheek. The young woman opened her eyes, finally then blinked as she saw the men—lying on the ground, dead. "What happened?" she said, just above whisper.

"They will not harm no one—ever again. You're safe now." Neesa told the young woman, holding her hand openly. They young woman glared Neesa's hand, at first—thought to defend then realised that she were not in any danger. Accepting her hand and were aided to her feet.

"What is your name, love?" Neesa asked. "Rachella—Rachella Jolie." She stammered answered.

"Pleasure to meet you, dear—I must take my leave."

"You can't! You must—"

"I must what? Maybe I should had allowed these villains to do what they wished instead of rescuing you from eternal scarring." Neesa lowly scowled. "Then maybe you should had—you don't even know me. Why did you save me, anyway?" Rachella barked lowly.

"It is my nature to save those—don't deserve or should never be taken in such way." Neesa answered. "Who are you?" Rachelle asked, curiously wondered.

"Someone that is sent to be your guardian—that is all you need to know, for now."

"Thankyou—how can I ever repay you?" Rachella thanked, curiously added. "Go home for now." Neesa replied. "Are you sure there is nothing that I can do to repay you?" Rachella asked, following after Neesa. "Not right—when the time comes, I'll send for you." Neesa answered, finally.

"When?" Rachella asked once again. "You'll know." Neesa answering over her shoulder then stepped in the shadows and disappeared but weren't far away as she watches, above. Rachella followed, raised her hand—hoping to find if her rescuer maybe still about.

Finding nothing hiding within the shadows, then turned on her heel and returned back to the waiting motorcycle—scratched her head, confusedly thought to herself. 'What just happened?'

Looking to each murdered man, lying on the pavement—half impishly grinned then she placed her helmet on and rode out of the alleyway before spotted—accused to be the murderer. On the rooftops, Neesa watched on as her future-to-be favor repave rides off.

Quickly improvised, some twine and metal—bending it to be created as a bow with three arrows that will carry fire to burn the dead bodies below in the alley—hopefully to cremate them before discovered, basically ridding any evidence that could be traced back to her.

Once that task was accomplished, she too—turned and disappeared, resuming her mission.

...

...to be continued in chapter one...

What to expect in the next chapter? I wonder what is going to happen?

Rachella Jolie, another character is introduced in the series. Who is this Rachelle Jolie? We soon find out, wont we? I know what ya'll thinking, Neesa really gets around. Well, her destiny is greater than most can comprehend, let alone—could possibly know what she must do.

Read and review until next time...tootles