"Snapped"
An MHI Fanfic
"Urg." I said as I walked through the door and tossed my gymbag down onto the cheap linoleum tile of my foyer. My body aches after that practice, Brian and I really went at it tonight, but that's the way things go at 'Facepunch Friday' at one of the most legit MMA gyms in the area. Still, I know I'm getting way too old for that kind of thing. I'm actually looking forward to stepping back and just doing some jiu jitsu or judo for a while.
I stretch my arms over my head and crack my shoulders as kick the door shut behind me with a foot. I can hear my wife watching television in the living room. I walk through the family room and take off my jacket to put in the closet. On nights like this I wish my house was smaller than the five bedroom McMansion that I got such a great steal on after the real estate bubble burst back in 07.
"Hey babe." My wife calls to me as I shuffle into the living room and take a look at what she's watching. Some stupid forensic investigation show that is completely unrealistic, but at least she isn't watching a reality show tonight. I then turn my head to regard my wife somewhat cooly, as she has clearly not done anything to clean up the mess our daughter made while I was at the gym. There are just toys everywhere. I can't blame her, though, as I'm not about to clean them up either; just too tired.
"Hey." I reply to her. She'd changed in the years we've been married, but then having a baby will do that to you. She's probably twice her weight from when we met ten years ago, but that doesn't really matter to me. I still love her, I just wish she'd try to live healthier. It's hard though when you work full time at a shitty customer service job, she's just spent when she gets home.
It's different for me, I don't really have a high stress job since I work in IT. The only stress I have to deal with, usually, is how to get that server that seemingly went down for no reason back up, which is why I built in redundancy. Also I just like working out. No, scratch that, I like punching people in the face. What can I say? It's fun. Also choking them and twisting their limbs ways they shouldn't go is fun too.
I gave her a kiss, then turned to head upstairs to take a shower. We don't really talk that much anymore, but then we don't need to. We know we love each other and that's enough for the both of us. Heading up the stairs I first go to my daughter's room to check on my sweet princess. I always do when I get home. I see her in the mornings when I drop her off for day care, get her dressed and ready, but I love looking at her sweet little tiny baby face with its little bow shaped mouth and precious little turned up nose. Those chunky little baby fingers like tiny little sausages and those chunky sweet cheeks that are so heavy they droop and make her face looks like it's frowning adorably.
What can I say? She's got me wrapped around her tiny little baby pinky finger, and she knows it to. Looking at her laying in her crib always reminds me of how my life changed so much when she was born. I had been in the Army then, and was on deployment to Afghanistan when she came. Oh, I made it home in plenty of time what with the Army giving ten full days of paternity leave and having been an E7 I was able to pull the strings necessary to get the time approved. I guess that makes me luckier than most, but I still made the decision to not reenlist that day. Nothing would keep me from her any more than absolutely necessary.
My buddies all called me a fool since I had thirteen years in and had made rank. I was even up for First Sergeant, hell I might be First Sergeant if I'd stayed in. Still, I know I made the right decision when I look at her laying there so innocent and asleep. It was the best decision I ever made. It's always hard to turn away and leave the room when I feel myself getting all mushy inside, but I have to so I do. I quietly shut the door so as to not wake my sweet princess and head off to shower.
All in all I can't really complain, I have a pretty good life. Decent job, decent pay, a family who loves me, a hobby that keeps me interested. Plus, showers after a really good workout are always absolutely fantastic. I mean, talk about awesome; and the water pressure here is just to die for.
An hour or so later my wife are lying in bed, not really saying anything, just lying there. The baby monitor suddenly goes off with its loud screech. That always sends me through the roof. I am a pretty alert person and a very light sleeper, but I know it's probably nothing, that thing can go off if the baby farts.
My wife though, "Honey, will you check on the baby?" I nod and get up and pull on my plaid Steelers pajama pants. Oddly as I move to the door I hear her getting out of bed too. Usually she just asks me to do it then goes back to sleep. The woman sleeps like a rock, I swear she does.
Padding across the carpet to my daughters door I find it slightly ajar, which is pretty odd. I distinctly remember shutting the door. I push it open and step inside, my eyes fortunately adjusted to the dark since I never turned on the lights in the first place, though my night vision isn't the best since I had PRK surgery a few years back to correct my nearsightedness.
I stop dead in my tracks, but only for a second, there is someone else in the room. I don't know who it is, but they just invaded the wrong house. I spring forward at the form standing over my baby's bed. Now, I'm a six foot tall, 200 pound man who's been through the military and spends his free time pummeling other fully grown men. I've been thrown through the air a few times, and hit damn hard a few more times than that, but I have never been hit as hard as I got hit at that moment. Nor have I have flown through the air so far or so fast.
It felt like I'd been hit by a bus, and I never even saw what hit me. Flying back through the door to my daughter's room I smash into and through the railing above the stairs leading to the first floor. Groaning I try to pick myself up off the floor but something is very clearly broken and I begin hacking as I can't breathe. All I can do is look up as my assailant approaches.
It's a woman dressed in what looks like some kind of dark bathrobe or something, I can't tell. Her skin is pale, so pale it almost glows and her eyes those are glowing. Red. Her eyes are glowing red. I stare transfixed not even aware that my daughter has started crying, or that my wife is in the doorway to our bedroom and yelling.
I probably would have kept staring like that if it hadn't been for my wife raising my gun and opening fire. Now, I'm not a huge gun nut like some of my friends, but I know enough. So when I picked a weapon to protect my family I picked one my wife would have an easy time using too, and of course I looked to get a deal on it. I had picked it up from the gun store in the PX before I got out, and it isn't a bad weapon. A Taurus Millennium PT145 subcompact, which is a little small for my hand but fits my wife perfectly.
Add to that we went to a concealed carry class together, and have spent some time on the range, she knows how to use the weapon well enough. Is it the greatest gun? Nope, not by a long shot. But it works for a family on a budget, and it's still a .45. I'm all about overwhelming force.
I watched the first shot strike the woman in the chest, then the second, both impacts from forcing her to stumble back. Then my wife walked past me a put the third bullet into the woman's face. Good girl. Sticks and stones might break my bones, but hollow points expand on impact. It's the last time I saw my wife alive.
"Hmm.. fat and juicy." The woman didn't go down. Instead she moved forward in a blur and my wife's head hit the floor next to me. I looked at it, dead eyes staring right up at me. I still couldn't move, I think my neck had been broken when I hit the railing, I couldn't even feel my body. But I did feel sick then.
I could hear my daughter crying, and could look up just enough to see her standing in her crib yelling "DADDY, DADDY, DADDY!" The next thing I know the woman has her and my poor sweet innocent baby is screaming for me to save her. I can't. I can't move, I can't even speak. Tears start falling down my face as I stare up at this monster as she bites off my tiny princess's throat.
The blood fountains from her tiny body for just a second, and then the woman drops the lifeless body at her feet. And then I just…. *SNAPPED!*
My eyes flutter open. I could hear a couple voices in the room. Men talking in hushed whispers, but I could still hear it. "Ripped it into pieces." "How?" "Bare hands looks like. Like you'd rip a piece of paper." "Damn. A Master?" "Yeah, an old one too."
I find I'm able to move, but my body feels different, I open my eyes and force myself to sit up. The world looks, different, sharper, and clearer. The lights are off and the room is dark, but I can make out every detail, every nuance. I'm in a hospital, that much is clear, and I'm hooked up to some monitoring devices.
I pull the sensors off me and the machines start to go nuts, that's when the guys who were talking notice me. One of them moves over.. "Mr. Coolane.. Please lay back down." I look the guy over. He looks like some kind of movie star. All tall and chisel featured. "I'm Special Agent Jefferson. You just had a very traumatic experience."
That's putting it lightly, asshole.
End of Part 1.
