Ack! Another long wait! I apologize again…you'll probably be hearing a lot of that from me. I am awfully occupied with my friend, because she is a freaking jerk. So I guess she's not really my friend. ^-^ I'm a whiner! Okay, this chapter is dedicated to Dusty. Thanks for all the nifty encouragement!
Disclaimer: Why, I think I may just not own this!
Speed opened his eyes slowly. His head was throbbing like a second heartbeat, not to mention he had double vision, for some strange reason. (A/N: Ever gotten knocked really hard on the head? It hurts.) He lifted his hand to the back of his head, feeling a large bump, and a place where his skin didn't meet, leaving a gash that reached from his right temple to the left side of his nape. He lay his head back onto the cold stone floor where he had been lain. He sat up, slowly recognizing the place he was in.
A morgue. He was in a bloody morgue.
Several bodies were stretched out over a group of tables. The one closest to him was a young woman with long black hair. At least Speed thought it was a girl. Her skin had been burned horribly, her nose almost disintegrated. Nobody had even tried to freeze, or preserve her body. She had spots on her where the burning gave way to rot. And next to her lay the body of a man. Along with the sight of her body, which was almost enough to make Speed sick anyhow, there was the stench. She had to have been dead for quite some time.
Next to her was the figure of a man. He had been dead even longer than the girl. He had a bullet wound through his forehead. "These people aren't even covered…" Speed whispered to himself. "Gross."
He stood and out of respect, he didn't allow his shoes to clack as he walked down the long rows of bodies, all uncovered. Some were so fresh, their blood was still warm and wet on their clothing. And, most sickeningly of all, he recognized some of them.
Speed turned away, disgusted, only to come face to face with a living, breathing person. With a smirk of sadistic pleasure, the man raised his hand, revealing an iron crowbar, gleaming in the low lighting.
Speed felt his cheekbone crack as the man slammed the crowbar into the side of his face. He dropped to one knee and let out a howl of pain. He felt his own blood fall to the floor, staining it.
"Hello Speed." The man smiled.
"Who… who are you? Why are all these people here?" Speed's voice was unnaturally high and far off.
"Oh, You can call me Mr. Jarrett." Another man and a little boy stepped out of the shadows. "This is George Ortega, and Kevin March. They're mostly responsible for all this." He smiled. "Shall I introduce you to the gang?" He indicated the bodies. He stepped lightly off toward the beginning of the hall. "This is Jeanie."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why kill all these people? What did they ever do to you?" Speed followed, face reddening in anger.
Jarrett laughed. "My dearest Speed, don't you ever wonder?"
"Ever wonder what?"
"Why on the mantle piece at home, there's not one single picture of you under the age of four?" Jarrett smiled.
"What are you saying."
"Oh, my Speed. I certainly thought you'd be much smarter. You're adopted, Speed."
Speed paled. "WHAT?!"
"You're someone else's son. As a matter of fact, you're mine."
Quite a plot twist! I'll explain a lot in the next chapters so don't miss it! R&R!