I know i should really be updating my other story, Hiding From The Truth, but this is a random one shot that wouldn't leave me alone :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or any of its characters, unfortunately.
*****
He deserved it.
That's what he kept telling himself as he waited in the shadows for his next victim. He didn't enjoy doing this to people; he had to do it, to keep himself and his family safe. Normally he didn't care, the victims had deserved what they had got, nobody threatened to harm his family and got away with it. People should have known by now; he'd lost count of the amount of people he'd killed. You didn't tell an ex-criminal, well he wasn't an ex anymore but that's what the FBI thought – what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, that you were going to kill/harm his family unless you had a death wish.
That's exactly what his next victim must have, a death wish. He knew firsthand what he was capable of and what he would do to protect his family. But he had still drunkenly bragged about it in a crowded pub. He should have known that the news would travel to him sooner or later, even if he was intoxicated. Possibly he thought that he'd have succeeded before he found out, possible he had a death wish.
He quickly glanced at his watch. Another ten minutes of lurking in the shadows before his prey would stumble out of the pub, the very same pub that they had met in, and be killed. That's what was hard about this kill. This man was supposed to be his friend; they'd ran from the cops together, avoided jail together, worried over their wives and children together. That was another downside. The man had a family; a wife, whom he was also friends with, and four beautiful children, ranging from ten to twenty three years old. They'd be devastated. But it would be his own fault. He deserved it. He'd threatened his family; his son and his daughter. Sure, he hadn't spoken to them since his trial and he was sure that they didn't want to speak to their criminal father. But they were still is children. No one threatened them. He took another quick glance at his watch.
It was time.
He watched as the family man walked out of the pub. Tonight he'd only had a few beers. He would be sober enough to feel the pain that he had brought upon himself. Perfect. The excruciating pain of being killed. Murdered. This brought a slight smile to his lips. Pain. Justice, for the man who had threatened his family.
He waited for the man to get to the end of the street before following in his footsteps, staying far enough back so that the man in front didn't notice or recognise him but close enough to see where it went. As he walked he considered numerous ways of how to get closer to him, how to start the murder. The killing part was easy; he'd use the same technique he had used for every murder for the last 25 years. He's been thinking and without realising he was within five meters of his victim. He silently cursed under his breath. The man turned to look behind him but saw nothing as he had darted back into the shadows. He gave it a few minutes to let the man get further ahead before re-emerging from the shadows. He'd have to be more careful this time; the man in front surely had to be suspicious by now. He was also an ex-criminal after all.
And indeed he was. Every couple of minutes he would look behind making him dart back into the shadows. No one else was around. They were at the industrial side of town, surrounded by warehouse, in the middle of the night. Where is he going? He thought to himself as the man in front swiftly turned the corner at the end of the street. He didn't live around here. No one he knew lived around here. He had no reason to be round here, unless he was meeting someone in one of the warehouses. And then it finally dawned on him as he too rounded the corner.
His daughter lived nearby.
Just a few blocks away, his daughter was sleeping peacefully in the safety of her own home. Unaware of the danger, who wanted to take away her precious life.
He was suddenly overwhelmed with anger. He didn't care anymore, he wanted this man dead. He needed this man dead, for the safety of his daughter. Planning ahead went straight out of the window as the realisation had hit him. All of a sudden he found himself running forward and lunging himself at the man. A man who deserved to die.
As he ran he'd pulled out a small pointed piece of pipe. He wanted the man to suffer first so he stabbed him in a less fatal place; the bottom of the back, avoiding his spine. He didn't want the man to be paralysed. He wanted him to fight back or beg for forgiveness. He wanted pain. He wanted suffering. He wanted vengeance.
The man fell to the floor in agony; looking up to face his attacker. He was smiling back down at him.
"Long time, no see Adrian, or do you prefer Jack?" He had found out, with the help of a few friends, that Jack had gotten a new identity for himself and his family a few years ago after an old friend had found him. Now he was known as Adrian Burton, a mechanic form New Jersey who had recently relocated his family to somewhere with more business.
"What do you want?"he begged, his voice strained under the pain. "Who are you?"
"Don't you remember me, Jack? How disappointing," he said, still smiling, jabbing the pipe into him once again; this time into his stomach – again avoiding anything that would be fatal.
"Obviously."
"Sarcasm? Really Jack, you know that doesn't get you anywhere with me, Jack." He bent down to stab him once again but pulled back at the last moment. He flinched back causing more pain to himself. The smile on his face grew, exactly what he wanted; pain and suffering.
"You won't get away with this!"
"And who's going to stop me?" He chuckled. "I don't see anyone coming to rescue you, do you?" Jack glared back up at him in silence. It hurt too much to talk, it hurt too much to move but he couldn't let the pain show. He couldn't let him win. "You see, nobody cares about you. Nobody gives a rat's ass about you mate." He leant forward and thrust the pipe into his chest opposite his heart. Jack screamed in distress then fell back against the floor, his breathing becoming ragged and short. He'd probably punctured one of the lungs. Oh well, he had another one. He still had time to punish him.
He stood over him looking down, blood pouring rapidly out of all of the wounds. He pulled him up and stood him against one of the nearby street lamps. As he tied him to it, using the ropes he had brought along with him especially for the job, he started to make small talk; acting as though they were catching up over coffee. He was playing mind games with him – but that's what made it more fun. Something he'd learned off of one of his friends.
"So how's your wife, Jane, doing these days?" he asked innocently but looking up at Jack and evil smirk spread across his face.
"You stay the hell away from her," he yelled as sternly as he could, struggling against the ropes to get free. It was no use anyway; even if he did get free he still had three stab wounds. There was no way he'd be able to get away.
"Oh don't worry, I'm not the type of guy to go after someone's family if I have a problem with them, I go straight to them to sort it out."
Jacks eyes widened in horror as he finally realised who his attacker was.
"Oh my god, M....M..." he stuttered but before he could get the name out he was dead. He'd been stabbed in the side of the neck with the same copper instrument as before; an instantaneous death. The signature kill. He quickly doused the dead body in gasoline and threw a match towards his former friend.
He watched momentarily as the flames violently ate away at the body. Smoke rising above into the night's sky; so black that it prevented the stars from shining through. He'd always liked the stars he used to look at them with his daughter and then his wife would tell them about each of the different constellations. He turned and walked away but not before throwing a coin onto the growing pile of ashes. A Columbus coin. Another signature of his.
He briefly felt remorse for Jacks family, he had met them a few years back; Jane, his wife, and he four children, Andrew, Becky, Louise and Emily. But he felt even sorrier for the poor soul who had the task of investigating what had happened. By tomorrow he would be in an entirely different state, maybe Florida or New York; somewhere warm and sunny. Not like here, the weather was terrible, in rainy Washington DC.
*****
Dr. Temperance Brennan was woken from her peaceful sleep by the sound of her phone ringing. She sat up lazily and answered her ringing phone.
"Brennan," she answered groggily.
"Get up Bones, we've got a case!" said the overly cheerful voice from the other end.
*****END*****
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-LittleMiss x