(I'd really like to do a rewrite. ^^ I've changed Jonathan a little, and I really dislike how I was writing before...^^' So, a rewrite would be great.)

(Alrighty then! A rewrite it is. When shall we start?)

(Right now would be good for me. Do you want to start or should I?)

(Okay...let's see...)


/Jonathan\


I hate murders. Why? Because I'm a damned superhero, and can't give the murderers the punishment they deserve without "becoming one of them". Deep down, I might know that that's probably the wrong thing to want to do, but the part of me that thinks that is barely clinging to life. One of these days, I'm not going to be able to take it any more. One of these days...

Anyway, here I was. Standing in front of another dead body, a few of my teammates standing next to me. The others were back at the tower, unable to deal with dead bodies. I half-listened as a shaky young patrolman, given the task of filling in the "freaks who nearly put us out of a job every day", gave us the details.

"W-well, w-we've yet to identify the body. She's p-probably early to m-mid-twenties. She was st-stabbed. No w-weapon, n-no witnesses."

This is why they called us. When they don't have any evidence, any suspects, any leads, any ANYTHING, they call us. Why? Because, somehow, we always seemed to be able to find something, even though they couldn't. The truth is, they were a bunch of lazy bastards who knew that we weren't going to just tell them "no". Nonetheless, we were going to catch whoever did this. We always did.


(Jeez, that was long! Anyway, I don't know, was that good?)