Teresa willed herself to not let fear take over. Her cop instincts began to kick in as she took in her surroundings. The room was the size of a small classroom, and bare save for the two chairs she and Jane were forced to occupy. The floors were cement and the light coming through the two small windows near the ceiling was dimmed by the fog that covered them. The room was cold and she came to the conclusion they were underground. The room was filled with the musty stench of mold and vomit. She could not see a door and so assumed it was behind her out of her line of sight. She then forced herself to look at Jane more closely.
He'd opened his eyes but was looking away, staring off into space. His eyes which usually spoke of some mischief or reflected his pain now seemed devoid of emotion. A large gash above his right eye was dried with blood, which had split onto his shirt. His chosen uniform of vest and jacket were no where to be seen. Both his hands were tied tightly to the chair with wire, blood covering his wrist as if he'd braced against the wire with force. His entire demeanor spoke of defeat. Teresa shuddered to think what sort of torture and mind games Red John had administered over the last 72 hours.
"I've brought Teresa here, Patrick, to give you a choice." Red John began. From the floor he picked up a pair of wire cutters and cut the wire from Jane's right hand. He barely winced as the wire fell to the floor. His hand remained where it was. "This choice will be yours alone to make, and I want you to truly consider your options." With a gloved hand Red John produced a revolver from inside his jacket.
"I'm going to give you this gun. There is but one bullet. You may shoot me if you'd like, but if you do my friend Ron will immediately put a bullet in dear Teresa's skull." Teresa felt the cold of a metal barrel press against her temple and she struggled to control her breathing.
"You could shoot Ron, but I would be very displeased at the loss of one of my friends, and would then be forced to demonstrate what I did to your wife on dear sweet Teresa."
"If you choose to shoot Teresa you will be free to go, and I will vanish without a trace and retire from my teachings. You would save countless numbers of lives."
"Or, You may shoot yourself and Teresa will be free to go, but I will have to continue my teachings."
He placed the gun in Jane's hand and whispered "The choice is your Patrick" and stepped off to the side.
Jane felt the gun in his hand only for a second before he slid his finger over the trigger. He looked Teresa in the eyes as he quickly raised the gun to his temple.
Teresa found her voice and screamed, "Jane, NO!" as he pulled the trigger.
Instead of the loud bang Teresa expected to hear when she slammed her eyes shut all she heard was a click. She opened her eyes to see a very shocked and confused Jane, still alive.
Red John smiled and took the gun from Patrick's hand before his confusion could wane.
"You're a liar." croaked Patrick.
"Oh Patrick, now now. I'm afraid your lack of sleep has affected your abilities. I'm not the liar here remember? It is not my business to tell untruths for my own gain as it once was yours." Red John turned the cylinder on the revolver and removed the lone bullet, turned it in his hand and reinserted it. "There was a bullet in this gun, had you fired a second shot the bullet would have met it's target. But that was not my intention. My intention was to see where your loyalties were, what you valued most. After all the quality time we've spent together the past few days I had an inkling as to what that choice may be. But really Patrick, what fun would it have been here without you? I've so enjoyed our games."
Tears began to spill down Teresa's face. The shock of almost witnessing her friend die at his hand, manipulated as it were, and the sheer hopelessness of their predicament was beginning to overwhelm her.
Jane stared at the floor at his feet, breathing heavily his teeth clenched as emotion returned to his eyes. They were filled with anger, hatred and most of all vengeance. The last three days had been nothing but manipulation, mind games and physical torture. The crack in the veneer was beginning to show.
Red John smiled again "You're ready." He seethed through clenched teeth. Red John turned to his disciple, "That will be all Ron." He said simply, lifted the revolver and shot Ron directly between the eyes.
Teresa startled as Ron's tall figured slumped to the floor. Confusion filled her mind and dread filled her heart. Red John walked to her and crouched before her. She cursed herself for the trembling she could not control. Red John thrived on the fear he could create, especially in women. It fueled him. He cocked his head and held a hand under her chin. She tried to turn away but he grabbed her lower jaw and turned her forcibly to look into his eyes.
"In all my dances with Patrick you have been our music. Without you continuing to play, this dance would have ended long ago. I'm afraid Patrick being the cowardly worm he is would have broken well before this point. But now my dear I'm afraid this symphony has come to the final measure."
Red John stood slowly and pulled his knife from his belt. He turned and walked slowly behind Patrick.
"I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow."
He held the knife to Patrick's throat.
"And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles."
He turned slowly in front of Patrick, knife still at his throat. Then stepped back, removed the knife and turn to Teresa.
"And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine."
He crouched and held the knife close to Teresa's throat. A wicked grin grew on his face and her eyes were wide and spilling with tears.
"And into my garden stole.
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see,
My foe outstretched beneath the tree."
Red John flexed to deliver his famous slash when he was suddenly hit with such force the knife flew from his hand, grazing Teresa's jaw enough to break the surface of her skin. Jane in a last desperate attempt had managed to undo the wire holding him captive with his freed hand. He'd been weak and disoriented but the threat to Teresa had filled him with such fear and rage it was all that fueled him now.
"Jane!" Teresa screamed as the two enemies fell to the ground sliding in the blood pooling from Ron's lifeless body. Red John delivered a swift elbow back into Jane's ribs, knowing he was still fragile from their earlier games. Jane cried out in agony but did not release his hold around the killer's torso. Red John scrambled and slid grabbing for the knife on the ground. Jane released his grip in reaching for the knife as well but he wasn't fast enough. Red John picked up the knife and slashed Jane's arm with a skill and swiftness only a killer with years of practice could posses. Blinded by the pain Jane rolled onto his back and held his arm against his body.
"Must you always rewrite my endings?" Red John huffed as he stood over Jane. He grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him to his feet. Jane was bent over in pain, blood dripping from the slash on his arm. "Very well Patrick. For you I will bestow the gift of killing you before I carve up your lovely friend."
He bent so his face was beside Jane's and whispered, "Tyger Tyger…"
With lightening speed Jane head butted Red John in the mouth, grabbed Red John's wrist, and with renewed energy swiftly pushed the crazed man against the wall.
"Burning bright…" Jane whispered back through clenched teeth as he wrestled the knife away. The two men struggled as Teresa looked on in horror, struggling against her shackles.
Jane's pupils dilated, his eyes wide he drove the knife deep into Red John's stomach as he stared into his eyes.
His voice calm and even Jane spoke, "Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?" and he twisted the knife.
Red John, his mouth and teeth filled with blood, smiled a crimson smile and replied weakly, "What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?" as he slid to the floor, Jane still holding the twisted knife in his abdomen.
Jane sharply pulled out the blade and held it to his nemesis throat.
"Jane…" Teresa's shaking voice gently called out, but Jane was deaf to the world. Time slowed in his mind as he slid the sharp blade deeply across Red John's throat and his blood spilled to the floor.
More to come.
All poetry obviously by William Blake.