Dear Jack Meadows
Rated: M for Mature Audience
Warning: May contain the following
• Violence
• Mature Language
• Torture
• Non-Consensual Sex
• Gory
• Graphic
Prologue
It had been like many nights before and this night had not been any different. Mickey woke up with a start. His body was drenched in sweat under the cover yet he shivered from how cold how cold he felt. Martin Delaney had crept up into his dreams ruining, once again, a good night sleep. It had been the same dream as before. The same nightmare repeated over and over again ever since that incident in the warehouse. He rubbed at his eyes in attempt to push the sleep away but in frustration, he pushed the covers aside. With nothing better than to wash the sweat and dread away, he got up to jumped into the shower. The night was still young and he had more time than he would have possible want for a good wash so he let the water run over his naked body after he had made sure he had given a good reddening scrub over all of his skin. He made no sound but if there were somebody watching, it would have left them wondering if some of those drops running down his face were his own.
Afterwards, he knew it was still too early for coffee but regardless he started a pot and left for the living room to watch some midnight television. He sat in front of the tele on his favorite couch, as he had many restless nights before, with his mug of coffee at hand to help him survive through much needed sleep. But yet this night seems strange. He felt uncomfortable in his skin and he couldn't understand why. He looked around his dark living room with only the tele's light to illuminate the room. Nothing was out of place, nothing was different but he felt something wasn't right. Chills ran down his spine at the thought of someone being there with him, hidden within the shadows, watching him and froze when he heard a noise coming from upstairs. Within his chest, his heart began to rush then felt irrational for thinking such chilling thoughts. He gulped ones and sat his coffee on the coffee table before him and stood up.
At the hallway, he looked up the stairway. Brave, he felt sure there was no one else there with him so he walked up till he reached the top. Everything was peaceful, yet there was something troubling about the atmosphere but he didn't stop. He continued to the first door to the left that led into his office. He was not surprised to have found no one there. Non-the-less he reached for the empty beer bottle he had left on his desk. He took a deep breath and peaked out from his office and scanned the hall. He was more shaken up then he thought he would have been. His hand shook as he held the beer bottle up but he needed to verify there was no one there.
Shocked, he reached for his upper arm where the pain had been inflicted. "No" he gasped starring down at a thin needle he held before him. Panic rose but it was too late, before he knew it, his knees had come crashing down on to the floor followed by the rest of his body as the darkness consumed him.