All rights go to DreamWorks and Wes Craven. I own nothing.
Fuck. It hurts.
Blown down by her father and lying flat in a pile of rumble and broken glass, he's bleeding out, utterly helpless.
Lisa's eyes flutter in surprise and relief as she looks to her father, then back down at him. Does she pity him?
He's the one who gulps in air and glances aside. He can't stand losing, and well, definitely not like this. This outcome was...in simple three words: humiliating and infuriating.
We'll talk again. I never lie. We'll talk again. We'll talk again. We'll talk again.
In an endless loop, his own words ring in his ears, echoing beneath the red sirens.
.
.
.
He spends a long time in medical ward healing from his injuries, and he's unable to talk much without getting a flaming sore throat. Besides that, his room is guarded by security uniforms at all times so that he can't get out and no one else can get in.
.
.
.
Jackson's not too sure if Lisa will even spare one glimpse in his general direction during the first trial hearing.
She does.
In truth, even when she only chooses to speak in a short range of yes or no answers while she sits there up on the witness stand, her familiar stubborn gaze has hardly left his face since the moment his officers had guided him into court, bound by handcuffs.
.
.
.
These days, Jackson's been wondering if Lisa will possibly come visit him behind bars in order to gain a final sense of closure, or a taste victory of some sort.
He can't really think of any real motive she'll actually have to seek him out again now that everything's said and done (or not done).
But every day, he still waits. Waits for something he can't explain. Waits for another chapter to begin.
.
.
.
Sometimes, he'll lounge back in the small wreck room of the prison in his preferred corner, coolly minding his own business, idly watching the one-channel-option television the cell guards might leave on for them overnight.
It's typically just boring news reports or weather predictions. However, today, there's a story that actually snags his deeper interest. He immediately lifts in head from the wall and refocuses his eyes and ears towards the screen. A local woman...Katie Janette or whatever, has been driven to the hospital after being violently sexually assaulted. Her hooded attacker has even left a deep bleeding cut just below her collarbone with the knife he had used against her the whole time. Her rapist has not been located or fully identified, but according to the police, it's not the first incident. Upon further investigation within the department, there has been a small number of private old files that share parallel details to Katie's. The scar, red or auburn hair, Caucasian female, in their twenties. There's been at least four other young women in total who have been recognized by physicians because of the noticeable marks sliced into their chests. Therefore, it's been concluded that this is a branding behavior, that it's a sign that it may become something much more serious for women living in the tri-state area to be aware of, that he's a serial case.
"That's rather interesting." Jack sighs to himself, his thoughts drifting back to Lisa, to the Red Eye flight, to his obsession about her past, to her confession, to what happened to her in the parking lot.
Despite everything, he's rooting for the public now. Hopefully the man will be caught red-handed and one day, yes, land in here amongst these fellow assessed criminals and psychopaths. Then, that way, Jackson could meet him.
They should have a chat...one on one.
This story is COMPLETE. I purposely left it open-ended like this. I do have my own interpretation of Jack's character, sure, but here it's up to (you) the reader to decide as to why he'd ever want to meet Lisa's other "demon" from the past.