Freefall

- Homeland Security Agency Central Office, 2030 hours -

Bobby Matthews is in the midst of an extended walk. It's the same long distance he walks twice a day, 5 days a week, for the past 2 months. As if being in the office all day doing paperwork wasn't tragic enough, his bosses giving him the worst shift available requires him to be the last person to get to work, and the last person to leave. This naturally leaves him the last pick of the available parking spots, usually at the farthest corner of the entire lot. This area of the parking lot is so far away from the main building that he doesn't even think the security cameras reach it.

Bobby no longer works as a field agent. The official records show that he was demoted as a consequence of firing a weapon on an unarmed suspect without provocation. Not exactly a record to be proud of, but if given the choice between that and the real reason why he's here, he'll take the lie. Now he fights against dangers to the country in a shirt and tie in a cramped office at headquarters. While certainly without the glamour and excitement of catching bad guys with his bare hands, he finds this new post calming, and appreciates the fact he can go through a workday without the sound of gunfire ringing in his ears.

As he approaches the familiar barely lit region of the parking lot, he notices something strange today. His car is usually by its lonesome self by this time. Today, there's a gray van parked right beside him, on the driver's side. He wonders what unfortunate bloke is still working at this time, and a part of him feels a bit better that he might not have the worst hours in the department after all. A small smile creeps on his face, as he continues to stroll over to the driver side door of his Toyota Matrix, the keys dangling in his hand.

As he is about to open the door, the sliding door of the van suddenly jolts open, and several large black-clothed men with masks and gloves grab him. One covers his mouth with a towel soaked with an inhaled sedative, knocking him out cold after only a few seconds of struggle. They drag him inside the gray vehicle and shut the door, while another man steps out of the passenger side of the van. This man is dressed like Bobby is, with a pressed shirt and tie, and dark pants. He walks casually to the Toyota, and picks up the keys from the ground. He briefly checks the surroundings to check of any unusual activity, then opens the lock, steps in, and proceeds to drive the car out of the parking lot. The gray van later followed suit.

- Vengeance -

There was only haze when his disoriented mind finally returned to consciousness. Bobby gasped in pain at the dull headache he had. Opening his eyelids slowly, his vision is stung by the shine of a large lamp over his head. He tries to twist away from the bright light, but quickly realizes he could not. He tilts his head downward then opens his dizzy gaze again. He discovers that he was completely locked down on some sort of vertical metal stretcher. His arms, legs and torso clamped tightly with what looked like thick metal clasps. Around him, old and barren concrete walls dominate every side of this room. A small wall-mounted table on his right side was the only decoration he could immediately see.

He turns his head to scan whatever space his bound position would allow him to see. As he gazes over to his left, he's stunned to see a blonde woman sitting on a simple wooden chair close to the wall. Her arms were crossed, and one side of her hair was draped over her face. The first instinct was that this was another prisoner, but he soon realizes this girl had no bindings on her. Upon closer inspection, he also notices a handgun placed neatly on the top of a small table next to her, with what resembled a small controller device next to it.

Bobby's mind was still trying to assess the situation when a voice came from somewhere under the blonde locks, a voice so familiar yet so distant. "Hello Bobby." This voice, once so sweet and kind, now sends an unnerving chill rising quickly up his spine.

Despite recognizing the voice, he didn't really believe it was her until she tilted her head up and allowed the hair to clear her face. Amy Bradshaw. He once called this woman his girlfriend. He remembers being in love with her. He remembers firing a bullet into the back of the woman she fell in love with.

"...Amy?" The name was the only thing his entire bewildered mind could form at this time. Despite strong evidence to the contrary, he was still harboring a hope that she is here to help him in whatever manner. This remnant of hope was dashed when he sees her slowing rising from the chair, slowly and methodically picking up both items on the table. The apprehension in his mind rises when she takes a few short steps toward him.

Amy places an item in each of her hands. Without saying a word, she raises her left hand holding the remote controller to Bobby's direction, and presses a button.

Bobby's body gasps and tightens as a stream of electricity is shot through his entire body. His face and teeth clenches in an unbelievable level of pain as every nerve is jolted at once. After what was only a few seconds, feeling like many minutes for Bobby, the machine is turned off. At once, his entire body sags in appreciation of the relief. His breathing is labored and his heart is pounding.

"That, Bobby, is only a brief demonstration." Amy spoke with a menacing tone in her voice.

Bobby is still gasping for air. "Amy, what's going on? Why are you doing this?"

Amy replied softly, trying not to let her emotions take over. "How could you not know?" She raises her left hand and again presses the button.

A bloody scream echoed through the room as another jolt delivers waves of agony through him. He tries to tighten his body to alleviate the pain, but it seemed to only make it worse. Every fiber of muscle in his body felt like they were each being pulled in opposite directions by rabid dogs.

At last, the torture device takes another pause. Bobby collapses in relief, his body losing all of its strength.

"Why did you kill her, Bobby? ...Why? ...Did you think that would make me love you? ...Or did you just want a way to get back at me for leaving you?" Amy's voice begins to tremble with restrained anguish.

Bobby had no words he could say, and stayed at his current position, still struggling to find his breath.

"TELL ME!" Amy screamed at him for an answer. Her left hand twitches on the controller and reactivates the machine.

Bobby's head is jolted back against the stretcher. A loud clunk can be heard as his skull smashes against the metal. His teeth were clenched and a flat grumble was the only sound he makes. Blood begins to drip down his lips and down his chin as his teeth bites reflexively into the inside of his mouth. Eventually again, the machine stops for another reprieve.

"Because I hated her!" Bobby finally spits out. Droplets of blood spray forward as he speaks breathlessly through his bloodied teeth, "That's right! I hated her! I hated that she was more for you than I was! I fucking hated that you were going to choose her over me!" Bobby gags at the last word as he swallows a mouthful of blood. His jaw was trembling with adrenaline. His eyes were two reddened meshes of dilated capillaries.

Amy steps back briefly. She tried not to show it, but she was astonished by this kind of brash response from Bobby. Amy wanted to break him, make him cry in cowardice and make him shed every tear she has had to shed because of his actions. Amy wanted the satisfaction of seeing him lose himself, before ending his life with a point blank bullet shot into his head.

"Then I hope it was worth it for you." Amy tries to hide the tentativeness in her own words as she spoke, and forces herself to take the plan to the next stage. She raises the controller, and using the barrel of the gun in her other hand, she presses a different button. Suddenly, a metallic clang could be heard as a curved metal bar extends from the stretcher and encircles Bobby's neck. Then it pulls down, and with it, locks Bobby's head firmly against the metal, with not even space for him to turn his neck.

Bobby could only grimace in his current position. He stares right at Amy, and sees the tears she is holding back beneath the promise of executing her revenge. His body tenses completely when Amy raises her gun into view. The barrel now only a half meter away from his head. Amy releases the safety, and this creates a small clicking sound that seemed deafening to both of them.

"Do it," muttered Bobby with clenched teeth and focused glare. "Kill me if it will make you happy."

Amy's eyes are empty, listless. For so long, she wanted him to suffer as she has. Now here he is, defenseless, vulnerable. She can end it with one bullet, snuff out the life that ruined her own. It would be so easy.

"KILL ME!" Bobby defiantly screamed at Amy with all his available strength, his lips were quivering in conviction. "This is what you want, isn't it? Splatter my brains all over the fucking room! You can do it! ...COME ON!"

No matter how hard Amy tried, she could not hold back the tears, and they begin to escape and slide down Amy's cheeks. Amy aims the gun into position, and steadies her finger over the trigger. Everything has changed, Amy Bradshaw, and there's no turning back now.

The enclosed room only served to seal in the thunderous roar from bullet being discharged. The blast from the gun seemed to shake the room at its foundations, as the powerful sound echoed loudly and sharply in Amy's ears.

It was the perfect sunset. Lucy had insisted we make this 2-hour drive to this place just so that we could watch it from this specific spot. I had my doubts, but Lucy made me a believer. I couldn't imagine something so simple as a sunset being more spectacular than this magnificent vertical pool of tangerines, maroons, and coppers sinking into the glistening sea of sapphires. You feel you could almost reach out and dip your hand into it and pull out pure gold. Lucy was sitting on the hood of her car, her hands wrapped protectively around me. Into my ear, she told me a story about how she found out about this place. It was a funny story, I remember laughing out loud.

Eventually, it was over. The view retreats over the horizon and we are soon drenched in the raw crispness of night. Tiny twinkles slowly begin to find their place in the gray skies as if they were vying for position to set the background for us. I turned around towards her and held her close, our foreheads leaning against each other. There wasn't much I could do to stop myself from drowning into those deep auburn eyes.

She whispers quietly, "When I look at you, it's as if... I've been looking for you all my life." I feel her warm breath glide over my lips. It took an unbelievable amount of effort for me not to squeal in delight with her words. "I'd never felt anything like this before. What ever did you do to me, Bradshaw?"

I fake a sardonic look on my face. "How can I be any different from all your other girls, huh?"

She mouth widens to a bright smile. "There are many other girls in this world, but there's only one Amy Bradshaw, the only girl that matters. I love everything about you. ...Don't ever change."

We both let out an adolescent giggle. She leans her lips to me, and I respond by offering the same. In this cool evening air, the intense warmth we share through our kiss might be enough to make our skin shine through the descending darkness.

-to be continued-