There is a shock. Long, loud. It's like the ringing in her ears will never stop. It feels like her body is a rock, the weight growing as it seems to fall. Curls brush against her neck even though she can't move. Slowly, she begins to open her eyes; she's trying so hard, so desperately, but they only peek open. There is a shadow above her. The remainder of her body still refuses to move, and suddenly, a sinister voice permeates the dull ringing in her ears.
"I'm going to enjoy watching you die, Dr. Isles."
Maura can see everything. The woman that's standing over her, scalpel pressed to her neck. The room, that of a basement somewhere, the lights somewhat dim, but bright enough to see clearly. She rubs her neck, a pain starting to throb as she sees the woman cut a nick over her carotid artery. Small, unlikely to bleed out. It's a surface cut, only barely cutting the flesh. It's as if she's a ghost, watching herself die, at least that's how she sees it. Is there any other way to describe this third person view of herself? The woman is smiling, looking down on Maura as she holds the steel over her face, admiring the little bit of blood on it. It has to be another of Hoyt's apprentices. That's the only logical explanation.
"Why… me?" she whispers, voice dragging.
The blonde looks at herself, touching her fingers to her lips. She can feel the sensation of talking, but she hadn't done it. The real her did. She is both a victim and a spectator, and that in itself is odd. Where's Jane? The last time this happened, the day Hoyt died, he had had them both, but she only sees herself.
"Because, the death of you will make the little detective writhe in anger and fear. It will make killing her that much more enjoyable for my master to watch," the woman's gravelly voice is an indicator of sleepless nights.
How long has this woman gone without sleep, watching, waiting for her then? And for that matter, how did she manage to take Maura away? It is still a blur. The Taser had caused that. Maura watches as the woman presses the steel to her cheek, and the chill causes her to stir.
"Hush now, no whimpering. You have a beautiful face. I'm thinking what would a cut across your cheek do to that beauty? Would it ruin it? We could always see." The woman presses the tip of the blade to her cheek, a miniscule cut forming as a droplet of blood pools in the spot. "Scars are beautiful things, too, you know. See?" Her attacker reveals scars down her arms and neck, years of abuse, both by herself and by someone else.
Where is Jane? She looks around the room, seeing no sign of help, hearing nothing to indicate any is outside about to save her. It terrifies her. Jane is always there, and now she isn't. Maura hates that she depends on her friend so much, but… It's all she has at this point. That sliver of hope.
"Scars make us who we are, and oh, how Master enjoyed scars. Especially ones left by Detective Rizzoli. That one across his eye was his favorite. He always said it reminded him of her and his unfinished business." The woman sounds almost delusional. Maura doubts she can reason her way out of this, but it's worth trying. At least to buy time.
"And you enjoyed him hurting you?" Maura is genuinely curious, but that doesn't mean ulterior motives aren't in play.
"Oh yes. He was always so gentle. That is until he decided to hurt me, or punish me. Then it brought a whole new side of him out." A smile forms on her face. "I hope to bring that side of our little detective out. Anger. Such an interesting emotion, wouldn't you say, Doctor Isles?"
She isn't sure how to respond. The look in this woman's eyes is very shifty, as if one trigger could set her off. Then there would be no time to buy. She looks to the door, goes to it, presses her body against it, but nothing. She thinks maybe she can faze through it, as if a ghost, if such things are real, but no. Her mind is stuck in this room, her tangible body, so here her out of body presence is too.
"Yes. It is. Every person's anger is different and shows in different ways." She pauses, watching her captor carefully. The other's eyes are intense on Maura's. Her eyes don't dart away as they normally would under such fear.
"Not very submissive for someone who's about to die, are you? Did you know that's how dogs decide their pecking order with others, as well as humans? Of course you did, Doc. You know oh so much. Your loss will be a shame to the BPD."
She opens her mouth to scream for help, but there is no voice. Her eyes strike her tangible counterpart. She still doesn't understand what's going on, but she is only a spectator without a voice, without anything to help herself. And she knows that screaming while under that psychopath's grip means certain death.
"Oh, look at the time," she says as she looks to her wrist, no watch there or any wall clock in sight, "It's time to say goodbye, Doctor Isles." The cold steel meets her neck again, the pain surging through as the woman takes careful measure for a perfect cut.
She rubs her neck, the pain's intensity growing exponentially. Her carotid artery is right there. If it gets cut too much, she's sure to bleed out in a matter of minutes, half that time if the blade transects her whole neck, both carotids. There is a loud sound against the door. The blade is quickly retracted and the captor's eyes shift from Maura to the origin of the noise.
Her hands are bound, and she can feel the sticky warm liquid against her neck, spilling down. The smell of copper fills the air, and she tries to control her breathing, knowing full well that panic would only making her bleed out faster. The woman looks to her again. "We best finish the job now." She presses the blade to her neck again, cutting further as Maura closes her eyes and grits her teeth. She's going to die. She knows it, and finally, the fear is setting in. Her blood starts to pump faster as the door swings open and shots are fired. She woman falls off over her, as she tries to stop the accelerating of her heart in her chest.
"Maura!" Jane yells out, running to her side. She sees the blood and frantically holds her hand to the wound, worried for her friend's life. Korsak is calling for an ambulance, Frost unbinding her after pulling the woman off of her. "Maura, how long do we have?" Rizzoli knows full well the doctor knows how long it will take for her to bleed out, to die. She doesn't want to think about it, but she knows the odds are against them.
She looks to her friend, feeling herself growing stronger as her tangible counterpart begins to fade. Fingers press to her lips as she feels the coppery substance in her throat now. The detective's eyes are filling with tears.
"Maura.. Maura…" She would never tell her that everything would be okay, especially when she knows it won't be.
"G-Goodb- Ja-" Maura whispers as the blood fills her throat, the copper taste settling in her mouth. Jane's eyes close tightly as she starts to cry. Korsak and Frost aren't sure what to do. They all know the medical examiner is gone. The detective moves her hand, her best friend's blood coating her fingers as she leans over her body, sobbing, screaming Maura's name.
She holds her mouth as she watches her friend cry over her, sobbing uncontrollably. Maura wraps her translucent arms around Jane, holding her close though neither of the two can feel it. There is nothing she can do for her friend, and nothing the raven can do to bring her back. The sobs of her friend fill the air as she watches. A silence settles over Maura after a few minutes of hearing her name being yelled in the basement; the sobs die down to nothing. The room starts to fade away. She closes her eyes as the tears start to drip down her cheeks. She opens her mouth to repeat her goodbye, but no words permeate the air, and she is gone.