Chapter 10

Several days later John finds himself staring at the closed case file of Miss. Helen Bates. He sighs softly, as he stands from his desk, and places the case file with all the other ones.

"Case closed! Well done John!" John glances up to see Ray standing in the doorway with a smug grin on his face. John sighs while closing his desk drawer, and walks towards his coat rack. John keeps a neutral expression, yet he can't help but feel worried. "Oh, Merry Christmas by the way!" John looks over at Ray while placing his Fedora on his head.

"Is it seriously Christmas?" John asks, with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, tomorrow is," Ray replies. John steps into the hall and gestures to Ray, offering him to do the same. As Ray stands beside him in the hall John closes his office door, and locks it. He turns and strolls down the hallway, leaving Ray in bewilderment. John doesn't look back when he hears Ray pursuing him. "Aren't you going to say, 'Merry Christmas to you as well.' What's wrong John?" John's gaze is slightly distant as he descends the stairs to the lower level. He flicks his eyes towards Ray, who looks at him with narrowed eyes.

"I don't celebrate Christmas."

"Ok, what about New Years."

"Everyone knows there's no such thing as new beginnings. That's a load of crap!"

"Ok, what do you celebrate?" John pauses at the bottom of the stairs, and looks over at his partner.

"Truthfully, nothing." Ray raises his eyebrows, slightly surprised.

"You are inhuman, John," John simply grins as he steps out of the warm, police department, and into the cold, snowy air.

"That's right Ray, and proud of it!" John walks across the parking lot towards his car, and opens the door. He turns feeling a hand rest on his shoulder. To his surprise, Henry Ross is standing there, with a huge grin on his face.

"I wanted to say that ya sir, for getting me out of jail. That's the best Christmas present anyone can give me!" John smiles warmly, having not expected Henry to thank him.

"You're welcome Mr. Ross. Now go home, and see your family. I'm sure they'll be happy to have you back for Christmas," Henry simply nods, and walks off.

̉•••

Russet whines softly and paws at the door. John simply lifts his gaze from his book, to see Russet look at him pleadingly with those dark brown eyes.

"What? You need to go out?" Russet whines softly, and shuffles his paws. John chuckles while laying his book on the sofa. He strolls over to the coat rack, and puts a heavy-duty jacket on while grabbing a red leash. He bends down, clipping the leash onto Russet's collar, and then pats his coat pocket, making sure he has his revolver. Russet turns about anxious to get outside. "Hehe, alright, alright. Calm down Russet!" John laughs while opening the door to his apartment. Russet instantly lurches ahead of him, dragging him into the hallway. Luckily, John had the door knob in his hand, and as he was being dragged he managed to close the door behind him. He notices that Russet seems a bit more anxious than usual, but he figures it's because he really needs to go.

The air is frigid outside, and the snow is falling at a steady pace. New York is still awake, despite the fact that it's Christmas Eve. John struggles to keep his footing on the slippery sidewalks as Russet drags him into an alley. John wonders why Russet took the alley, for it is unusual for him. He watches as the dog sniffs every nook and cranny, as if searching for something. Suddenly, Russet stops, staring at a dark, shadowed corner. He lowers his torso, placing his tail between his legs, and whines softly. John doesn't understand what's going on, but he realizes that the alley is strangely quiet. No late-night drunks, no scampering rat, nothing… John pops his coat collar as a chill runs up and down his spine. He figures it's from the cold, winter air. Russet moves behind John, and tugs on his pants leg. Johns smirks slightly and looks down at him.

"What in the world are you doing Russet?"

"Smart dog you have there," a voice colder than the icy breeze pierces the air like an arrow. John's hand looses around the leash as he looks towards the source of the voice. A dark figure emerges from the dark corner, and John's heart instantly sinks. He is so frightened that he doesn't even realize that Russet had freed himself and run off. The figure grins slightly, "Hello John, fancy meeting you here."

"What do you want Virgil!" John's hand moves to his coat pocket, and his fingers wrap around the butt of his revolver. Virgil steps a bit closer, and stares down at his fingers, as if examining a tin particle of dirt.

"I just wanted to talk. You see I'm a little angry that you put my loyal servant behind bars." John narrows his eyes, scowling at Virgil.

"He shouldn't have been so messy in his job. He made it too easy for me," Virgil simply shrugs.

"He did what I asked him to do, for I only wanted to see you…" A creepy smile creeps across Virgil's face.

"So, you have a young girl killed, just to see me? I feel so… Appreciated," John replies. He knows Virgil's tactics, and he knows that he will not hesitate to kill someone to get what he wants. Virgil simply laughs maniacally, and removes a Colt revolver from his pocket. John is stunned to see it is an exact replica of his own.

"I only wanted to eliminate the only one that could get in my way," he says, while pointing the gun at John's head. John can't help but roll his eyes.

"You sure know how to get to the point Virgil. Well, go on, shoot me," John taunts, while raising both of his hands in the air.

"With pleasure… You know, I haven't had this much fun since your daughter. She was a beautiful young lady, but too skittish for my liking," John's heart plummets a thousand feet, and his eyes suddenly sadden. Virgil simply smiles while pulling back the hammer, seeing he had hit a soft spot. "Too bad you couldn't save her-"

"Th-That's true, but I wasn't too late to leave that scar across your face. You are the only person I would find pleasure in killing right now," John's voice sounds foreign to him as he speaks. Virgil keeps his weapon aimed, as he takes one final step closer, being only a couple of feet away from his target. His free hand seems to stroke the scar on his face.

"Yes, I've been meaning to thank you for that. This scar has enhanced my image. Yet, enough small talk, any last words before I blow your brains out?" John's eyes shift down to his shoes for a moment, and then a smile creeps across his visage.

"Burn in hell," a crack of thunder pierces the air, and John stealthily rolls forward. Virgil curses under his breath, as he pulls the hammer back once more. John balls up his fist, and punches Virgil in the jaw. As he is stunned, John braces his hands on Virgil's shoulders, and knees him in the gut. A satisfying thud sounds, as Virgil drops the live revolver in the snow. John tries to pull his own weapon out of his pocket, but Virgil punches him in the eye, causing him to propel backward. John looks up to see the revolver back in Virgil's hand, and he rolls to the side just as Virgil fires the weapon. John leaps to his feet and grabs Virgil's shirt collar. He punches him in the face several times, and then throws him against a brick wall. Virgil struggles, trying to keep his footing, while John raises his own weapon.

"You've improved, I'm surprised," Virgil manages to say while turning back towards John. A click sounds as John pulls back the hammer. "But, still pathetic," John begins to squeeze the trigger, but a searing pain erupts in his wrist, as Virgil snaps back his hand, causing his weapon to fall. John staggers backward, clutching his wrist. During John's stupor Virgil picks up John's revolver, and tosses it towards the opening of the alley. Time suddenly began to slow, as thunder pierces the air once more, and a bullet cuts through the icy air, only stopping in warm flesh. John feels himself fall into the snow, and hears himself cry out in agony. Completely forgetting his broken wrist, he rolls onto his belly, and tries to push himself back up, but he arms simply shake in protest, and falls back onto the ground. Virgil stands over him aiming his weapon once more. "It's been nice knowing you." John shudders as a gunshot sounds, but he quickly realizes he's not dead. Seconds later, Virgil Gray's body falls lifeless on the ground. John can hear footsteps clang against the alley floor. He can feel himself being turned onto his back, but his vision is too blurred to make out the figure above him. He hears words, but he can't decipher what they are saying. He can taste blood in his mouth, and his breathing is shallow. John can't seem to grab a full breath to satisfy his lungs. He stares, vacantly, past the figure above him, staring at a warm, bright light. Then… Everything goes dark…