Part 2
Chapter 4 - Living a Nightmare
"Fred!"
Fred blinked and rubbed her eyes, sitting up. She looked around and blinked again, wondering where she was. It looked slightly familiar.
"Fred! Get up!" Gunn ran into the room, tossing clothes into a bag. He also threw in a few frame-less photographs and a cigar box full of what appeared to be jewelry.
Fred got out of bed and pulled on a nearby shirt, which appeared to be a two or three-year-old amusement park promotional tee. She also found a pair of jeans, which looked way too big for her, and slipped them on. They were too tight. She took a look in the mirror. She was herself...only twenty pounds heavier. Her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days, and she was generally unclean looking.
"What's going on, Charles?"
"The Police, that's what's going on! The fucking police. Get your fat ass ready to go! And grab Jana!" Gunn screamed, turning to yell at her.
Tears welled up in Fred's eyes. "I don't appreciate that kind of talk, Charles Gunn."
He stepped forward and smacked her, throwing her to the ground in the process.
"Now get up and go! Don't forget the baby!" He picked her up again and practically shoved her though a doorway. The room was dark and quiet, but then she heard a tiny cough.
There was a crib in the corner, one with white bars and a broken mobile above it. It turned slowly in the cold wind that came from a nearby broken window. Fred looked inside to see a tiny baby girl. She was shivering in the cold and her eyes were shut. She must have been asleep. Fred reached over the bars and picked her up, cuddling her against her chest. The baby suddenly began a strangled-sounding cry.
Fred looked into her chocolate brown eyes. They were full of tears, of sadness.
"I'm sorry, Jana. You shouldn't have this life." She laid the baby in the bed and looked down at her a second time. The baby cried louder, coughing in between cries. Fred shut the window gently, then left the room.
"Would you shut that baby up?"
"No."
Gunn stopped, his eyes wild. He stared at her for what seemed like a whole minute. "Do you remember what happened the last time you told me no?"
She shook her head and backed up against the wall. "I'm not going with you this time, Gunn."
He looked out the door, then back at her. "Come on baby...I love you. Please...I need you to help me. You're the best brain I got." He took a step forward, but then police sirens were heard in the background.
"Shit!" He grabbed the bag and ran out the door, slamming it behind him. She listened to his feet running down the stairs. Minutes later, the sirens were louder, and feet were charging up the stairs. The door burst open to find Fred, cowering on the floor. She was crying right along with the baby in the next room.
A woman ran into the baby's room and shushed her, walking out with a blanket wrapped around her. The baby's tiny hand reached out for something to hold onto, as if she were reaching for her mother. She coughed again.
"I don't think she'll make it, James." Said the young woman with the baby to the cop who held a gun steady at Fred.
"These damn people have kids and don't know how to take care of them." He shook his head and stared at Fred. "Why would you do that to a little baby girl? She's half-beaten-to-death, half-starved, and half-dying of pneumonia. God...people these days." He shook his head. "Come on, Mrs. Gunn...you're under the arrest for the murder of Cordelia Chase, Anna Harbor, Rachel Granger, Daniel Westfall, and Wesley Wyndham-Price. You have the right to remain silent..."
Another cop picked her up off the floor, cuffing her immediately. Fred didn't want to hear anymore. She killed Cordy and Wesley. Her two best friends.
* * *
"Now, Mrs. Gunn...we're going to ask you one more time...where were you on the night of January 24th, 2004?"
Fred shook her head and continued to cry. "I've told you," she sobbed, "I am Winifred Anne Burkle. I live in the Hyperion Hotel. I live there with Cordelia Chase, Wesley Wyndham-Price, Charles Gunn, Angel, and his son. We run Angel Investigations together. That's all. That's all I know. Angel's son was born last night and Wesley put me to bed in my room last night. I woke up and I was in this hell living with Charles. Now you've arrested me...please...I don't know anything and I would never kill anyone." She put her head in her hands and sobbed some more.
"Look up this Angel character. And a kid. Check birth records with the last name Angel in LA during the year before she and Gunn went on the killing spree." The cop ordered to his assistant.
* * *
"Gunn, Winifred Anne."
Fred looked up, her eyes red and swolen from tears.
"You're cleared and you're out. Take your things at the desk."
Fred walked slowly towards the desk, taking her clothes. "Why are they letting me out? Did they find out what happened to me?"
The lady shook her head. "All we know is that LACSI cleared you and says you weren't present at any of the murders. Sign here."
Fred signed her name, forcing the last part of it, and walked out of the jail. She rubbed her arms, fighting the skin-crawling cold that bothered her. She walked slowly down the streets of LA, taking in the sights of the year in which she was supposedly living. Everything looked the same, all of the same buildings, except for a few. Businesses had come and gone, but the streets were as crowded as usual. A line was formed outside of a club where she recalled once partying with the gang, save for Wesley. She found a church, lit up slightly. The door was open, so she entered.
A man knelt at the foot of the statue of Mary at the end of the sanctuary. He appeared to be crying. His cries were soft, but audible. She walked over towards him slowly.
"Hello?"
The man jumped, turning around to face her. His eyes softened in recognition and he wiped the tears away. "Fred." He sighed her name, as if happy to see her.
"Angel?"
Chapter 4 - Living a Nightmare
"Fred!"
Fred blinked and rubbed her eyes, sitting up. She looked around and blinked again, wondering where she was. It looked slightly familiar.
"Fred! Get up!" Gunn ran into the room, tossing clothes into a bag. He also threw in a few frame-less photographs and a cigar box full of what appeared to be jewelry.
Fred got out of bed and pulled on a nearby shirt, which appeared to be a two or three-year-old amusement park promotional tee. She also found a pair of jeans, which looked way too big for her, and slipped them on. They were too tight. She took a look in the mirror. She was herself...only twenty pounds heavier. Her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days, and she was generally unclean looking.
"What's going on, Charles?"
"The Police, that's what's going on! The fucking police. Get your fat ass ready to go! And grab Jana!" Gunn screamed, turning to yell at her.
Tears welled up in Fred's eyes. "I don't appreciate that kind of talk, Charles Gunn."
He stepped forward and smacked her, throwing her to the ground in the process.
"Now get up and go! Don't forget the baby!" He picked her up again and practically shoved her though a doorway. The room was dark and quiet, but then she heard a tiny cough.
There was a crib in the corner, one with white bars and a broken mobile above it. It turned slowly in the cold wind that came from a nearby broken window. Fred looked inside to see a tiny baby girl. She was shivering in the cold and her eyes were shut. She must have been asleep. Fred reached over the bars and picked her up, cuddling her against her chest. The baby suddenly began a strangled-sounding cry.
Fred looked into her chocolate brown eyes. They were full of tears, of sadness.
"I'm sorry, Jana. You shouldn't have this life." She laid the baby in the bed and looked down at her a second time. The baby cried louder, coughing in between cries. Fred shut the window gently, then left the room.
"Would you shut that baby up?"
"No."
Gunn stopped, his eyes wild. He stared at her for what seemed like a whole minute. "Do you remember what happened the last time you told me no?"
She shook her head and backed up against the wall. "I'm not going with you this time, Gunn."
He looked out the door, then back at her. "Come on baby...I love you. Please...I need you to help me. You're the best brain I got." He took a step forward, but then police sirens were heard in the background.
"Shit!" He grabbed the bag and ran out the door, slamming it behind him. She listened to his feet running down the stairs. Minutes later, the sirens were louder, and feet were charging up the stairs. The door burst open to find Fred, cowering on the floor. She was crying right along with the baby in the next room.
A woman ran into the baby's room and shushed her, walking out with a blanket wrapped around her. The baby's tiny hand reached out for something to hold onto, as if she were reaching for her mother. She coughed again.
"I don't think she'll make it, James." Said the young woman with the baby to the cop who held a gun steady at Fred.
"These damn people have kids and don't know how to take care of them." He shook his head and stared at Fred. "Why would you do that to a little baby girl? She's half-beaten-to-death, half-starved, and half-dying of pneumonia. God...people these days." He shook his head. "Come on, Mrs. Gunn...you're under the arrest for the murder of Cordelia Chase, Anna Harbor, Rachel Granger, Daniel Westfall, and Wesley Wyndham-Price. You have the right to remain silent..."
Another cop picked her up off the floor, cuffing her immediately. Fred didn't want to hear anymore. She killed Cordy and Wesley. Her two best friends.
* * *
"Now, Mrs. Gunn...we're going to ask you one more time...where were you on the night of January 24th, 2004?"
Fred shook her head and continued to cry. "I've told you," she sobbed, "I am Winifred Anne Burkle. I live in the Hyperion Hotel. I live there with Cordelia Chase, Wesley Wyndham-Price, Charles Gunn, Angel, and his son. We run Angel Investigations together. That's all. That's all I know. Angel's son was born last night and Wesley put me to bed in my room last night. I woke up and I was in this hell living with Charles. Now you've arrested me...please...I don't know anything and I would never kill anyone." She put her head in her hands and sobbed some more.
"Look up this Angel character. And a kid. Check birth records with the last name Angel in LA during the year before she and Gunn went on the killing spree." The cop ordered to his assistant.
* * *
"Gunn, Winifred Anne."
Fred looked up, her eyes red and swolen from tears.
"You're cleared and you're out. Take your things at the desk."
Fred walked slowly towards the desk, taking her clothes. "Why are they letting me out? Did they find out what happened to me?"
The lady shook her head. "All we know is that LACSI cleared you and says you weren't present at any of the murders. Sign here."
Fred signed her name, forcing the last part of it, and walked out of the jail. She rubbed her arms, fighting the skin-crawling cold that bothered her. She walked slowly down the streets of LA, taking in the sights of the year in which she was supposedly living. Everything looked the same, all of the same buildings, except for a few. Businesses had come and gone, but the streets were as crowded as usual. A line was formed outside of a club where she recalled once partying with the gang, save for Wesley. She found a church, lit up slightly. The door was open, so she entered.
A man knelt at the foot of the statue of Mary at the end of the sanctuary. He appeared to be crying. His cries were soft, but audible. She walked over towards him slowly.
"Hello?"
The man jumped, turning around to face her. His eyes softened in recognition and he wiped the tears away. "Fred." He sighed her name, as if happy to see her.
"Angel?"