A/N: Muwhahahahhahahahahaha!
Disclaimer: I Don't Own it, Won't Ever Own it, So Get Over it.
Sydney and Vaughn were happy for once in their lives. They were at a park enjoying a relaxing lunch together when a man in a black suit walked up and shot Sydney in the forehead, before calmly walking off again. Vaughn was too shocked to do anything other than stare in disbelief. Before long, however, he got over his shock and checked for signs of life from his beloved. She was still alive, albeit barely. Struggling with his cell, he managed to call 911 and give them their location. Within minutes, emergency vehicles with blaring sirens flew around a corner and drove into the park. The ambulance crew jumped out and tended to Sydney, rushing her to the back of the ambulance, as the cops approached Vaughn.
"What happened sir?" a pi.. err.. cop asked.
"A man in a black suit with green hair and dark sunglasses walked up to us and shot my girlfriend in the head," Vaughn replied in a strangely calm and distant voice. The cops nodded and motioned Vaughn to get into their car, which he promptly did and they drove off to the hospital where they would further interrogate him.
Watching from behind a tree, a tear running down his face, was Sark. He witnessed Sydney's killing and, like Vaughn, was too shocked to go after the killer. However, unlike Vaughn, he was Mr. Sark, so he knew where he could find the killer. Flicking aside the stray tear shed for his beloved, Sark walked to his car. He checked his watch, nodded, and proceeded after the killer.
It wasn't long before Jack heard the news about his daughter's death. She had lived only long enough to say "I Love S.." before dying at the hospital. Like everyone else, he was bewildered as to what that final message was. Of course, the message wasn't the important part. The important part was that Sydney was dead. His only daughter, gone.
Jack slammed his fists on the desk in front of him in anger. If only he was a better father, if only he was there for her, if only he showed her his love. Maybe she'd still be alive. Maybe her smile wouldn't be a mere memory of the daughter he'd give anything for.
"Quit beating the table and get to work," Kendall said, as he walked by Jack. Overwhelmed by his emotions as he was, Jack would take none of Kendall's BS today. Grabbing the nearest item, a pen, Jack walked up to Kendall and stabbed him in the chest. Repeatedly. Kendall's look of surprise was etched forever on his face as Jack's stabbing became yet more aggressive and determined. When he was done, there was nothing left of Kendall save a mass of holey flesh. Marshall, who had the misfortune to witness this killing, hid underneath his desk, fearing that his fate would be the same.
Jack, however, fixed his suit, now stained with blood, and calmly left the building. Terrified, Marshall managed to gather the courage to peek out from his desk. He looked around, saw nothing, and breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned back. His hand pressed a detonator that he had been working on, however, and the building, much like Marshall, blew to pieces.
Elsewhere, Will and Francie (the real one), climbed out of their bed, in search of a late morning breakfast. Stretching contentedly, Will pondered about how his life was perfect. He was with someone he loved, his best friend was happy, and he had a good job again. Nothing else could go wrong, he thought as he followed Francie into the kitchen.
Francie was cooking something at the stove when Will walked in. He stepped behind her and hugged her, distracting her from her cooking. While she was distracted, a bottle of lighter fluid fell into the fire and exploded, setting Will and Francie on fire. They ran out of the apartment, screaming in terror and pain as the flames engulfed their bodies and their home.
They collapsed somewhere down the street from their home, naught but piles of burning flesh. A crowed gathered, both disgusted and fascinated by the charred bodies, when Sloane happened to walk by. He glanced briefly at what was left of Will and Francie, before crossing the street. He was, however, distracted by the flaming bodies and didn't see the semi flying down the road. A horn blast and loud thump later, Sloane, both halves of him, were lying on either side of the street, attracting a crowd of their own.
Vaughn was unaware of all this as he waited in the lobby of the hospital, despite the wide coverage of it on the news that was shown on the hospital television. He was so lost in his own agony-filled world that he didn't notice when Weiss sat down across from him.
"WHY SYD?" Vaughn yelled, gaining several weird looks and glares from the others in the lobby.
Weiss shook his head, trying to come up with a way to console his agony-filled friend. "It'll be okay, Vaughn. It'll be.." Weiss started.
"Okay? How the hell will it be okay? Sydney was shot in the head RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! AND I WAS TOO SHOCKED TO DO ANYTHING!" Vaughn interrupted angrily. Weiss shut his mouth and shook his head. There was nothing that he could say.
As Vaughn fumed in the chair, a doctor walked up, sadness written on his face.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Vaughn?" The doctor asked. Vaughn nodded, his throat tight because he knew what was coming. "I'm… sorry, Mr. Vaughn. Ms. Bristow has passed away." Vaughn closed his eyes, grief overwhelming him as the doctor walked away. Weiss looked at his friend with concern, knowing that there was nothing that he could do to help.
A door suddenly flew open, and Jack ran in. His clothes were covered with blood and his face was an unhealthy red. He ran over to the nearest doctor, grabbed his coat and turned him around. "Help m…" Jack managed to say just before he exploded, leaving everyone in the lobby, especially the doctor, covered with his entrails. Children screamed in terror, Weiss jumped to his feet, and Vaughn ignored it all. People ran outside the hospital, screaming in terror, running over anyone who got in their way during their mad rush to the door. Once at the door, however, there was a sudden explosion from outside that sent glass from the windows flying into the hospital. Many people who were in the lobby were hit by flying shards of glass – some were cut in half, some lost a limb, and others, like Weiss, lost their heads.
With blood literally dripping off his body, Vaughn glanced up, irritated, until he saw the scene before him. Blood, bodies and glass were everywhere. And he was the only survivor. Those who weren't killed by the glass exploded like Jack had. It must be a virus. Vaughn thought. He ran out of the hospital and onto the street, where the literal river of blood rushing by at his feet confirmed his fear. Scared, he ran down the street, trying to find someone who was still alive. He turned a corner, and saw an old couple trying to cross the bloody river. Approaching them, Vaughn started to call out, but they turned to him, empty sockets where their eyes were supposed to be, blood flowing like tears from them, before they exploded, knocked Vaughn into the rushing river of blood in the blast.
Struggling to keep his head above the blood, he was surprised when someone grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the river. Looking up to thank his rescuer, Vaughn saw that it was none other than Sark. Sark glared at him with steel blue eyes and dragged him into a building. Bodies and blood litered the inside, so much that in some places they had to crawl over piles of flesh. They got to the elevator and Sark pushed Vaughn in, then stepped in behind him.
"What's going on?" Vaughn demanded.
"It's a virus." Sark said calmly as he pushed the button for the top floor.
"But how can a virus…. Why hasn't it affected us?"
"We are not its targets."
"Are you telling me that it's artificial?"
Sark nodded as the elevator reached the roof and the doors opened. "Come."
Sark ran to a helicopter that sat on the roof, Vaughn not far behind. Vaughn didn't trust Sark, but he had to know what was going on. Sark started the helicopter and Vaughn jumped in after him. The helicopter took off, and Vaughn turned to ask Sark something when a blunt object hit him on the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.
Vaughn woke up later in a dark place with a throbbing headache. He still wore his blood stained clothing, he noticed, as he sat up on the cold hard floor. He looked around, eyes adjusting to the darkness, when floodlights came on, blinding him. A dark figure moved toward him, but Vaughn couldn't tell who it was.
"You failed her." Came a familiar blood chilling voice. He knew that voice. It had haunted his dreams since he met his father's killer.
"There was nothing I could do" Vaughn replied, only half believing his own words.
"You can always do something."
"Just kill me, will you?"
Irina laughed. "The silent solitude of death is to good for you. I have something… better… in mind. Something thats worse than death." Vaughn heard her turn to leave. Aware that any protest would do nothing for his situation, he had to at least satisfy his curiosity.
"What killed all thoes people in L.A.?"
"A virus. The eX Virus. One specifically designed to kill humans. One that could be used to kill one person, or a billion people."
"Then why am I still alive?"
"Because your DNA wasn't programmed into the virus." Sark said from Vaughns immediate right, making him jump.
"Sark, would you be so kind as to take care of Michael?" Irina asked, walking away. Sark turned hate filled blue eyes to Vaughn.
"With pleasure." Grabbing Vaughn roughly, Sark pulled him into another room. Sark shoved Vaughn into a chair and strapped down his arms and legs. He then turned on a television built into the wall of the room.
"What are you going to do, entertain me?" Vaughn inquired, confused.
"In a way" Sark replied with a smirk as he taped Vaughn's eyes open. "Enjoy" Sark said as he left the room. "You'll be here for six months. By then, you'll be begging us to kill you."
The door closed behind Sark and the room went dark. The blue screen directly in front of Vaughn turned black as something started playing. Once he figured out what it was, he started screaming.
"You're too cruel, Sark. Making him watch "Tellitubbies for six months. I don't believe I would even torture someone in that way." Irina said, joining Sark on a balcony in the house above the torture room where Vaughn was held.
"He deserves it." Sark said coldly.
"If only my dear Sydney would have lived… perhaps you would have gotten your wish to be with her… and I would have gotten my wish for you to be my son-in-law."
Sark turned to Irina. "I'm pleased that you would wish that."
"I already view you as my son, Adam." Irina said as she walked back into the house. Sark remained on the balcony, contemplating. After a while, he turned to enter the house, but he slipped on a loose tile. He fell backwards, over the railing, and landed on the sword of a statue below, staining it with his blood.
When Irina found him, she was overcome with grief. The only person left that she cared for died in a tragic accident. She buried Sark in a cemetery next to Sydney, the only two people that she had cared for other than her late husband, Jack. As she stared at the tombstone that she had engraved, a single tear fell down her face, betraying emotions that she tried to deny she still had.
Shaking her head, Irina turned to return to her home. While she still had time left on Earth, she was going to torture Vaughn for the death of Sydney. And she hoped that a Wraith of her daughter would haunt him for the duration of his life. He would never again find happiness. She made sure of that. That was why she used the eX Virus. To wipe out the human population. So if he survived the torture and outlived her, there would be no one left for him to love. Irina threw her head back and laughed.
Vengeance was sweet.