A/N: Warning! This is a really sad and graphic story. If you can't handle what happens don't read and don't hate on me! If you do, stick with it I promise there will be a really amazingly good ending. 3 If you are brave enough to read this then, please leave feedback and support! Thank You!
Hell is empty and all the devils are here.
-William Shakespeare
Nothing felt familiar anymore, it was cold, dark, and uncomfortable. Something hurt...no, everything hurt. The room smelt like a hospital, but one that smelt like it had been dead for years, old, dusty, and the smell of rotted corpses. It filled the brunette's nostrils and drove itself to the pits of her stomach. She heaved. All her muscles contracted and her eyes flew open. It was like waking up from a twisted nightmare. Blinking to life again, she hit her head on the wall as she lulled it back. Everything was spinning slowly around her, she kept blinking to stay awake, to stay alive.
Pain tore through her body. It felt like wounds left open only to become infected. When her eyes failed her, her sense of hearing heightened. She could hear emptiness and clicking, like high heels tapping on tile floors coming down a long hall.
The sound of heels clacking against hard floor sounded familiar, "...M-Maura..." When her voice left no echo and no response she realized that nothing would probably ever feel familiar to her again.
The heels got closer, and when they stopped, the sound was replaced by another small swift click and then buzzing of half broken fluorescent lights.
"Good to see you are waking up, Jane." A cold female voice spoke.
Jane was fading into life again; the lights that worked blinded her. "Where...Where am I?" She tried to move her hands to her neck where she had been injected with whatever knocked her out, but she found herself unable to bring her arms up.
Confused, she shook herself to wake up and looked down at where her hands were. What she saw made her fear level increase, but she had to remember to stay calm. She was in a white straitjacket with red stains that looked like it was fresh blood that came from within the jacket, as if her own. With as much force as she could conjure up from her weak body, she tried to struggle her arms free.
"There's no point in trying to wiggle your way free." The female laughed. "Besides, I thought you wanted all the...bad...horrible...killers locked up, yes?"
Jane was trying to make sense of everything, but was finding it very difficult. She stopped struggling, because as much as she hated to admit it, the female was right. There wasn't any use in wasting her energy to try and attempt to get out of a straitjacket. Jane groaned, closed her eyes, and tried to form words but she could only mouth out one. "Killer..?"
"That is what you are, is it not?" The words cut like a knife through Jane's thoughts.
Jane never thought herself to be a killer. Sure, she shot a few people when it came down to the final draw but it was her job, what she had been trained to do. It was always for the right reasons with good intentions.
Not answering the woman back, she was finally able to manage keeping her eyes open for more then a few seconds. Jane took the opportunity to assess the situation around her, however, when she got a glimpse of what she could it only made her stomach heave and muscles contract once more.
Jane noticed that the room she was in was an old psychiatric hospital room, with light green shredded wallpaper, and broken tile floor. The florescent lights that were working were snug in the fixtures, while the ones not working were swinging down from them. To her right she could feel eyes watching her through a giant tinted window, it was like the windows that you would find in an interrogation room. The room smelt like rotting corpse, and Jane made a mental note to quickly try and find the source of it. When she did she closed her eyes and swallowed the knot in her throat. The culprit of the smell had been from about 4 or 5 dead bodies piled at the foot of the bed that Jane was in.
"You're a natural born killer, and it's almost time for dinner." The female said while revealing herself to Jane with a needle filled with an unknown liquid.
The woman was petite with high heels, a tight small black dress, and a white over coat. She resembled Maura in many ways, which slightly shocked Jane, it was like she had stocked the honey blonde and made it a point to have all her same features. She wore her hair with loose curls that laid elegantly around her face and shoulders. It was a honey blonde tone accompanied by hazel eyes that held no warmth within them.
"I-I'm not hungry." Jane managed to get out.
The woman tilted her head and smiled while nearing her with the needle. "Oh, darling, you need to eat."
Jane felt fear shoot up her body, she tried to get to her feet to run to the other side of the room. Anything to not get stabbed with another needle with God knows what substance. As Jane lifted to her feet a sharp pain through her neck pulled her back down to the bed like a linebacker taking out it's prey. She could feel it now, a metal collar was clamped around her neck and kept her chained to the wall. Tears filled her eyes as the female pulled closer.
"Now don't struggle, Jane, you don't want the needle breaking off in your neck do you?" The female warned with a serious face. She was so emotionless that it killed Jane to watch her.
Jane knew that she couldn't fight whatever was about to happen, all she could do was grit and bear. She bit down hard and tensed up as tears started to flow out of her eyes. The woman injected the anonymous fluid into the brunette.
"What is this stuff?" Jane asked with an angered raspy voice.
"A strong dosage of liquid bath salts..."
Jane didn't let the woman finish, she started laughing out loud hysterically with tears filling her eyes.
"Great...I'm so fucked." She grunted slamming her body into the metal framed headboard. "So what, am I going to be addicted to this shit now?"
"Watch your language." The female mouthed as if quoting Maura, Jane gave her a strange look. "With a few more doses, yes you will become addicted, but don't worry I have a way to rid you of that addiction."
The feelings of the drug were starting to take place in Jane's body.
"Now, don't try anything stupid." She loosened the straps on the straitjacket, enough to when the Maura look alike walked away she could free herself from it.
"Smart.." Jane laughed to herself while undoing the jacket. "Free me physically but you chain me up mentally. Fuck you, Bitch, Fuck you..." The drugs were starting to talk for her. She looked down at her body once the straitjacket was off, and looked down at her arms. They had deep long gashes that followed from her wrist to her elbows.
"You see, I tried to rid you of all your evil by cutting it out of you, but you're so evil it didn't work. Now, there is a gun in that case, use it wisely. The doors are locked and they are bullet proof along with the window that separates you from me. "
Jane started to feel paranoid, she clasped her hands around her neck and felt the metal collar. At the same moment, the woman pressed a button, that gave Jane the knowledge that the chain had more slack for her to move about the room in almost free range.
Jane got out of the bed and felt extremely dizzy, she shook what she could of it off, and tried to go into cop mode. Fail.
"Come on, Rizzoli, think." She whispered to herself, everything was fading, she felt like her body was filled with extra strength, but her mind was anchored down with fear and panic. "Fucking drugs!" She screamed.
"Yes, you are a killer, Jane Rizzoli. You kill people and shoot people like your best friend's father, you shot to kill, not to cripple. You're lucky, Jane, cause I shoot to cripple.
Her mind started to turn on her, she collapsed to the ground and started crying hysterically, the mention of Maura's father made whatever held Jane together snap.
"One of the drugs side effects is fighting your inner demons, now fight!" She pressed a button that opened a door from across the room. A well-built man stepped out with a scalpel and started to laugh, he was a murder, a killer, and Jane knew it.
"You're a murder, Jane. Take the gun." The female was using everything against Jane to condition her into a murderer.
Jane was now sitting in a corner crying and rocking back and forth. "I'm not a killer. I'm not a killer. I won't kill. I won't kill. But you have to kill, Jane. You have to it's your job, it's what you were trained to do." She shook her head. " You're not a killer."
The man approached her and with a deep voice. "I always finish what I start, Jane." He mimicked Jane's worst enemy, Hoyt. The man reached out and cuffed his hand tightly around Jane's throat and slammed her against the wall. She felt the pain radiate through her spine as she fell back to the floor.
"Get up." The man cooed.
"I'm not a killer..." She continued.
"Oh, your not?" He took the scalpel and cut along her cheek.
Her face was now covered in blood and tears. She started to fear what would happen next and she felt the drugs take her over. She pushed the man back and got to her feet and ran to the bed. He got up and chased her, she turned over and tried to flip the bed on him but she couldn't realizing the bed was bolted down.
"Leave me alone!" She yelled now gripping her head. All that it felt like was a slow, torturous nightmare that would never end.
"Kill him, Jane." The woman darted. She was intently watching and butting in through the low volumed intercom.
"I'm not a killer, I'm not a killer!" She tried with all her strength to hold on to that. She tried to hang on to all the justice she had fought for, all the lives she saved because a murderer was gone or locked up. She tried to hang on to the last piece of humanity she felt she had left, but it was slowly slipping from her.
She ran to the case where the gun was, and opened it only to fumble the gun around in her hands. The man came after her, and her paranoia snapped causing her to react immediately without hesitation. She pistol whipped him in the face, and scrambled far enough to get good aim at the man. "Stay away from me!" She yelled.
The man laughed and came toward her once more wielding the scalpel between his fingers. She was filled with to much paranoia and anxiety. BANG! The gun went off, and the man fell to the ground with a bullet between his eyes.
When she realized what she did she started shaking and threw the gun across the room and cradled into herself. "I am not a killer."
The woman pressed the button once more, and the chains slack tightened making it impossible for Jane to move about the room.
"See, you are a killer, Jane. Why won't you admit it?" The voice echoed through the room.
"I'm not a killer!" Jane screamed as tears ran down her face, she was now pulling at her hair and scratching at herself to get the filth of killing the man off. The drugs had won, and she was starting to fight her inner turmoil, she was struggling and losing will to carry on, but the drugs made her restless and kept making her face what was in front of her. It was like someone stapled her eyes open so she could watch her self slowly be killed and tortured.
"You're a killer, Jane. Go to sleep, get some rest, breakfast awaits you." The lights went out and the heels clacked away.
Jane felt alone, hurt, and at lowest she had ever felt. She prayed as much as she could when the drugs wore off that Frost and Korsak would find her, but the second she started praying, she started to feel less hope. What she experienced that night, wasn't the end of it.
