The hospital was completely silent, except for the few strange electronic devices that were buzzing from time to time in the deserted rooms. The place was reeking with the smell of old drugs and medicine, and, of course, the despair and withering of the dying patients that were left in the sterilized rooms. Kilgrave wrinkled his nose in disgust as the foul stench hit him, now carrying wafts of dirty clothes and dried blood. He had never liked hospitals. Too often they had reminded him of his crazy parents and the horrible experiments he had suffered at their hands. He glanced at a small cart, with dozens of needles lying in in plastic tub. He quickly looked away and continued his way, his father closely following behind him. Together they passed a counter. The nurse behind it looked up at them with surprise, before opening her mouth:
"Excuse me, sir, but you can't"-
"Shut up."
The nurse immediately stopped, watching them with a baffled expression on her face. Kilgrave and his father passed another endless corridor, before stopping in front of a double-wing door. Kilgrave glanced at his father, who nervously returned his gaze, and resolutely pushed the door. It opened on a vast room, with dozens of machines and doctors studying this and that. They looked up at Kilgrave in surprise, with the same face as the nurse did before.
"Sir, you"-
"Shut the hell up and get out of here."
All of the staff and the doctors obediently did as they were told, and soon Kilgrave and his father found themselves alone in the room.
"Dad, go and close the door".
His father turned heels and Kilgrave slowly made his way into the room, his eyes resting on the numerous tables and beeping machines, until finally he found what he was looking for. There, at the very back of the room, carefully hidden by the machines and some curtains hastily drawn, lay a series of high shelves that almost reached the ceiling. A thick transparent door was protecting ten jars, inside of which were resting shapeless forms. The inside of the shelves was extremely cold, surely to maintain the jars' contents. Kilgrave carefully examined each jar. Naked, skinless shapes of human embryos stared back at him, silently floating in their prison of glass. They all were at different stages of development, but Kilgrave could guess that they had been taken pretty soon from their mother's belly. He didn't feel any link to these creatures, as one could have expected, only disgust and repulsion; the embryos were ugly beyond comparison, with their enormous heads, their disproportionate bodies and their tiny hands that seemed even more fragile than glass.
Each embryo was labelled with a small tag, and as Kilgrave bent to examine them, he could distinctly read on the first: "Donation: anonymous. Date ?". He stopped a chuckle as he read the second: "Donation: Mary S. Date: ?" He read each tag, which all presented different names and dates, until at last he came to the tenth embryo: "Hope Schlottman. Date …/…/2015."
His father's eyes, who had been reading the tag as well, widened in shock.
"Kevin, don't tell me that these are"-
Kilgrave finally turned to him, already feeling annoyed at the tone of his father's voice.
"Yes, they are", he sharply cut him, sighing with irritation.
His father stared at him with a renewed hate.
"My God, Kevin, how many women did you abuse ?!"
There was something with these words that irked Kilgrave. An image of Jessica, angry and disgusted with him, flashed before his eyes.
"Hey, I didn't force anyone to abort," he said, a growl rising in his throat.
His father's face twisted with rage.
"I'm not talking about this! Kevin, how many women did you ra"-
"I DIDN'T RAPE ANYONE!" Kilgrave screamed, his anger finally exploding.
His father recoiled, the usual fear coming back into his eyes. Kilgrave's chest ached painfully as he saw Jessica, back in front of him, every one of her words dripping with poison into his mind: "Not only did you physically rape me, but you violated every cell in my body and every thought in my goddamn head!"
"I didn't do anything", he softly breathed, his eyes glazing over the memory.
His father frowned, concerned, but didn't say anything.
"Well, back to business," Kilgrave said, snapping back to reality. "Take all of these and don't damage them."
"Hurry up, we don't want to lose him!"
Another nurse rushed in the corridor, completely ignoring the black-haired woman and the patient lying next to her in the bed. Jessica barely heeded her, deaf to the sounds of the hospital around her. All of her attention was focused on Luke. He was breathing normally, but it had been three days now since he had been unconscious. Jessica couldn't bear to chase Kilgrave while Luke was being left here, alone and vulnerable. Every trip to the hospital was a living hell. Jessica couldn't get the sound the bullet had made when it had hit Luke out of her head. Still, it eased her mind a little bit to be near him. At least, she would be able to protect him (she hoped) if anything went wrong. She didn't know what Kilgrave's next move would be, but she didn't want Luke to be yet another victim. In addition to this, she had to be extremely careful; Luke's "condition" wasn't something easy to hide. Fortunately, Jessica had managed to find a valuable ally, a nurse named Claire who had been taking care of Luke ever since he got to the hospital, and Jessica was thankful for her kindness. She didn't know how long she could keep going on like this, sitting here at Luke's side in this dreadful hospital, but that was all the comfort Jessica could hope for at the moment.
Slowly she got up and stood next to Luke's bedside. He looked almost peaceful. Jessica gently put the pillow back under his head, careful as to not hurt him. The vast hall was almost silent now. Jessica frowned, suddenly startled. She couldn't hear the usual chatter of the hospital, the hushed voices of the nurses and the doctors as they passed by. The atmosphere was almost… heavy. Troubled, she turned and froze dead in her tracks.
Everyone was looking at her. The doctors, the nurses, everyone. Some patients were peering from behind the curtains, stretching their necks to get a good look at her. Her eyes fell on the small TV screen. Pictures of her were flashing across the screen, with a voice she knew all too well:
"This woman is Jessica Jones…"
Jessica felt of rush of panic as the message tirelessly continued.
"She is your enemy. She must be dealt with."
Jessica glanced at Luke, still asleep in the bed.
"Bring her to the broadcasting tower, at the centre of the town. It is Patsy's little TV show, she'll love it."
"Stop it!" Jessica suddenly cried.
"Bring her to me, and I may let you all live your miserable lives in peace. Be careful, she is dangerous."
Jessica slowly backed away as the patients and the nurses began to advance. Their eyes were dull, gone lifeless with the command of Kilgrave. Jessica couldn't fight, not here. Even if she was reluctant to leave Luke, there was nothing she could do at the very instant. She turned and dashed toward the exit, the hospital exploding in a chorus of piercing screams behind her.
Kilgrave stood at the balcony, his hands resting on the handrail. Below him, down in the streets, people left their home, cars came crashing to an abrupt stop as their driver quickly left them upon hearing the message. People were crawling in the streets like ants, their eyes mad, their heads filled with orders. Kilgrave smiled. The serum had worked.
Leaning against the thin trunk of an oak, Jessica watched the menacing silhouettes of the building that were stretching into the dark of the night. She had run madly from the hospital, painfully dodging mind-controlled people, too fast for them to follow her, until she had found shelter into a little corner of greenness, a small little park well-hidden between two skyscrapers. From here, she could see people rummaging their apartments through the windows of the building. Some were even watching the streets with binoculars.
Jessica let out a sigh, thinking about everything that had happened until then. It all went so quickly. Kilgrave's announcement, and the whole town falling under his control. Jessica couldn't understand how this was even possible in the first place. Kilgrave's power always had been limited in distance and time, even with his father's serum. But when he had been controlling a mere nightclub three days ago, now he was controlling an entire section of the city. He still wasn't able to control her, though. That was the only advantage she had for now.
Suddenly, Jessica thought about Trish. She had been so caught up with Luke that she had barely taken the time to call her, and now she hadn't had any news. A horrible feeling in her guts, Jessica reached for her phone.
"What the hell..."
A dozen vocal messages had submerged the small screen. Jessica clicked on one and listened.
"Hello, Jessica, it's Malcom. There's been an accident at the apartment, can you come quickly?"
Jessica gritted her while recognizing the mindless tone of Kilgrave's victims. The message went on and on, begging her to come. She listened to another, Hogarth this time:
"Jessica, I know you're in trouble right now, I can help. Just tell me where you are and"-
Jessica immediately deleted the message, anger rising into her throat. The bastard had really managed to control everyone. Jessica checked the rest of the messages. However, she didn't find any message of Trish. Worry mixing with anger, Jessica quickly dialled the number, anxiously waiting for a response.
"Hello, this is Trish Walker, I'm not here right now, please leave a message"-
"GODDAMMIT!"
Jessica stared at the screen, anger and fear bubbling inside her. Of course Trish wouldn't answer. Growling, she squeezed the phone in her hands, harder and harder. The little machine grated, small cracks running through the shining screen, until finally it broke in a high-pitched scream between Jessica's fingers. She smashed the metallic corpse on the nearby trunk of a tree, watching the pieces of metal fall apart on the ground. Her phone would have been useless anyway. Trish wasn't going to answer, and if she called, Jessica didn't want to hear a mindless robot instead of her adoptive sister. Jessica sighed, anger slowly being replaced by sadness. Once again, she was putting everyone into danger. She even wondered, with a sarcastic laugh, if she wasn't cursed.
Still musing, Jessica startled when she suddenly felt a sharp pull on the sleeve of her black jacket. She looked down and saw a little girl, aged no more than ten, pulling her sleeve, her ruffled blonde hair falling in front of her glassy eyes.
"I have to bring you to Kilgrave", the girl painfully articulated.
Her voice sounded broken, as though she had been repeating that for hours now. Her pink clothes were dirty and torn, her face heavy with weariness. Jessica could only stare in a strange sort of fascinated horror as the little girl weakly pulled her sleeve again, tripped, and fell face first into the muddy soil. There she lay for a few seconds, her arms spreading on the ground just like a dislocated doll, and got up again, her voice husky, mumbling over and over again.
"I have to bring you to Kilgrave. I have to bring you to Kilgrave. I have to bring you to"-
"Hey, hey, stop", Jessica said, bending down and taking the little girl in her arms. "It's okay now."
The girl was shivering against her. Jessica could hear her muffled voice still talking, her little arms gripping her in a weak attempt of dragging her back to Kilgrave.
"I… have… to…"
"My God", Jessica softly whispered, her heart crushed with pity and horror.
She looked beyond the trees and wondered how many children were wandering the streets, separated from their parents, looking for her. Her eyes suddenly hardened with hatred. Kilgrave. "Trust me, when I'll find you, you will regret that we even met". He would pay. Such madness wasn't going to stop. Jessica looked up at the buildings, glittering in the night. She had to move. Find a shelter, food, too, and finally, a plan. How she was going to get to Kilgrave without being caught, she didn't know. She had to think, and she couldn't do that here, in the open.
Jessica stood up, with a new determination. The little girl had fallen asleep into her arms. Jessica decided to take her to Trish's apartment. Here, Jessica would be sure to find food, maybe a wig to disguise herself, and it would be safer for the girl rather than just leave her alone in the streets filled with mind-controlled people. Maybe Trish would be there too, but Jessica doubted it. Slaloming between the trees, Jessica put her hood over her face, careful as to not let any black hair stick out. She pulled her jacket in a way to hide her face, hoping this would be enough for now. She couldn't stay long in the streets; her poor cover would be rapidly discovered, but this had to do until Trish's apartment. Arriving to the outskirts of the park, she stopped, and carefully studied the streets. She thought she could make the outline of Trish's building, not far into the distance. Yellow dots of dirty lights were illuminating the streets and the roads, revealing the blank face of citizens walking, their eyes scanning every direction. This wasn't going to be easy.
Kilgrave sighed with irritation as he walked into the immaculate corridor. This was the second time in a week that he had to walk in an hospital, and that wasn't improving his mood. They were on their way with his father to give a little visit to Jessica's boyfriend. This, too, wasn't really helpful. Frowning, he silently pursued his path, the shadow of his father behind him. At last they came into the great hall, where curtains had been hastily pulled to give the patients some privacy. Kilgrave wrinkled his nose as he made his way to Luke's bed. This hospital smelt even worse than the last, choking with the various odours of sweat, infected wounds and unchanged clothing, and buzzing with the continuous whispers of the hospital's staff.
"This is him?" his father asked as they stopped next to Luke's bedside.
Kilgrave silently nodded, studying the man lying before him. The details of his last confrontation with Jessica fully came back to him. He remembered how Jessica had reluctantly fought Luke, how she had still believed in him, had even encouraged him to break free of his control even though Luke was ready to crush her skull. A wave of hot jealousy overcame him. Sure, Jessica was angry with him for killing off a few unimportant people; she had insulted him, beaten him and spat in his face; but she couldn't bother to be upset with the man who had actually tried to kill her with his bare fists. Scowling, Kilgrave felt a deep hatred burning in his chest as he looked at Luke's peaceful face. He couldn't understand what Jessica could possibly find in this poor excuse of a man. Maybe she had been drawn to his strength. Maybe she had found him weak. Kilgrave bristled with rage at the mere idea that Jessica would have preferred some other man over him just because he didn't fit her idea of what power was. Well, that was over now.
"Jessica?"
Kilgrave snapped back to reality. Luke groaned and passed a hand over his eyes, disoriented.
"Not, not Jessica", Kilgrave whispered as he bent towards Luke's face. "I'm afraid she's left you again."
"What? Who…"?
Luke opened his eyes to see Kilgrave coldly staring at him.
"Get up, Cage. We're going for a walk."
Jessica carefully hugged the walls, her head low. She had been walking for almost an hour now, cautiously making her way in the streets and avoiding people as much as she could. Trish's apartment was further than she thought. Jessica still hadn't had any news from her adoptive sister and she didn't expect one anymore. Hopelessness gripped her heart as she made her way between the abandoned cars, the little girl still swaying in her arms, her head lolling. So far nobody had paid attention to Jessica. People were far too busy looking for her. Everywhere Jessica could see them, watching, searching, sometimes even calling her name. Some had passed out from exhaustion, their faces lying in the dust, while some other, the strongest perhaps, were crawling on their arms, their eyes red with weariness, drool streaming from the corner of their mouths, shaking with effort. It pained Jessica to see how Kilgrave had turned an entire section of the city into a nightmarish hell with one simple order from his voice. Jessica almost felt powerless; she was much, much stronger than him, could snap his neck if she wished so, and yet he was once again the one in control. In a way, she felt that it was almost unfair, and extremely ironic, as if fate didn't want her to have the upper hand. Fortunately, it also helped to fuel Jessica's rage.
Jessica was about yet to pass another car when the scream she dreaded the most stopped her:
"JESSICA JONES!"
A blond woman was watching her, her eyes wide. Every people in the streets turned towards her, their eyes wild.
"JESSICA JONES!"
"SHE'S HERE!"
Jessica stopped, unsure what to do. People were gathering all about her, blocking every way, and there wasn't even a point in trying to reason them. She couldn't make a dash through them, and she didn't really want to fight either. She didn't know what would happen if she didn't control her strength enough.
Before she could react, a human wave fell upon her, and Jessica was thrown to the ground. The little girl disappeared from her view. People were madly grasping her, her hair, her clothes, anything that came to their hands. A man grabbed her jacket, and the fabric tore as several other pulled it. Suffocating, panicking, Jessica protected her face with her arms. She reminded herself that these people were victims as much as she was, and they were only doing as they were told. She felt her hair being savagely pulled, her arms cut open with the nails of her assailants. Suddenly, the pulling stopped, and Jessica glanced through her fingers. The crowd broke as people began to fight, tearing and clawing at each other's faces.
"Get away from her! I have to bring Jessica to Kilgrave!"
"No, I have to! Get out of my way!"
A woman aimed a vicious blow at the man who was still holding Jessica's ripped jacket. He fell to the ground with a groan. People were screaming at each other, growling. Jessica slowly got up. Kilgrave's orders were contradicting themselves. "They're not meant to work together", she realized. "Only one can bring me to him." She slowly backed away. More people were coming at the corner of the street, attracted by the commotion. This was now or never. Jessica blended into the shadows, turning her back to the vicious fight.
Jessica had finally managed to reach Trish's apartment. The TV was switched on, with Kilgrave's message passing over and over. Everything was perfectly in order, just the way Trish had left it. It only increased Jessica's anxiety; it was way too perfect, with everything at its place, like the awful way Kilgrave had furnished Jessica's old house. The apartment almost seemed to mock her, completely untouched by the outside chaos.
Ignoring her strong feeling of discomfort, Jessica quickly rummaged through Trish's full pantry. She packed up some food and went into the bathroom. There she took the time to properly tend to her wounds, dressing and cleaning them. The cuts weren't very deep, but there were so many of them that Jessica felt as if every inch of her skin was on fire. She took some gauze as well, just in case, and checked the rest of the apartment, hoping that Trish hadn't got rid of all her old wigs. Eventually she found one, deeply stacked behind Trish's old clothes. The wig was covered in dust, all the plastic hair stiff and some carelessly falling off of it. The color, once a sparkling blonde, was now dull and yellowish. It barely fitted Jessica's head, but it managed well enough to cover her own black hair. Jessica looked in the mirror, arranging some unruly lock. This would do to hide her in the darkness, but it wouldn't last long in full daylight. Jessica didn't know how long this situation would be going, so she decided to pick another one at the next hairdresser she would meet on the road.
Quickly she packed up her things and headed for the door. Already she could hear hushed whispers above and quiet footsteps in the hallway. She had to be fast. Jessica was glad to leave Trish's apartment. Even sleeping in the street would be better than to stay here and bear this strange sensation of being watched all night, and she had to find a more discreet shelter anyway.
Albert silently stood, almost cowering in the shadow of the wall. His son was angrily pacing in the center of the room. Even though Kilgrave hadn't said anything yet, Albert recognized all the warning signs: his jaw firmly set, his eyes burning with rage constantly scanning the room, looking for something to unleash his rage upon.
"You shouldn't worry about it, son", Albert finally said, feeling he had to break the unnerving silence. "She will come eventually."
Kilgrave sharply turned his head to look at him, and Albert instantly regretted his decision to even speak.
"Will she? I'm starting to doubt it, Dad."
Albert shuddered. Since he had taken his second serum, Kilgrave had grown more and more restless, until he just couldn't bear to wait anymore. Albert had worked day and night to extract the precious liquid from the embryos, secretly hoping that a second dose would definitely kill his son. It did nothing of the sort, if not making Kilgrave a childish god who had turned half of New York into his playground, with thousands of little soldiers to find one lost princess. However, the serum didn't seem to be without consequence either. Albert was still amazed at this peculiar transformation of character, for he had come to learn that his son was usually a very patient man.
Kilgrave walked towards him, his teeth gritted.
"Tell me, Dad. There are at least thousands people in this goddamn city, half or maybe less with what I'm controlling, and you tell me that none of them, absolutely not a single one, has been able to capture Jessica?"
Albert cowered even more, wishing he could just disappear within the wall. Kilgrave's voice had risen to a vicious snarl. Faint purple veins were throbbing on his forehead, and his eyes were shining with a sickly, wordless rage.
"M-maybe she fought them off?"
"Bullshit!" Kilgrave exclaimed. "Jessica wouldn't lift a finger against a poor, innocent human being. So how come SHE'S NOT HERE ALREADY?!"
Finally the outburst that Albert had been dreading the most came. Kilgrave knocked over the table nearby, slamming all the equipment and all the empty test tubes Albert was planning on using to finalize his experiment. All of the computers, the metallic syringes, the fragile glass of the tubes shattered on the floor in an awful cry of agony, as if pleading for mercy. The researchers shuddered, and one even cried in pain as he accidentally stepped onto a broken syringe. Kilgrave watched the entire scene with disdainful, disinterested eyes. His anger had diminished a little, but he still wasn't satisfied. He needed a more rapid solution. Sooner or later, someone was going to notice that something was seriously wrong within this part of the city. For now, he had managed to keep the media at bay, ordering the policemen to build barricades to stop anyone from coming in. There were some vague rumors about an epidemic situation in the city, but that was all. However, more than the media and anything else, Kilgrave feared the coming of the Avengers. He wasn't stupid; despite his mind-controlling power, he wouldn't be able to face on his own a team much powerful than him. If they, sooner or later, heard about the strange situation in the city, Kilgrave would be finished. It was only a question of time until that happened, and then, he could say goodbye to everything; his freedom, Jessica, and even his power. Who knew what those heroes were capable of?
"Dad", he finally said, turning to his trembling father. "Give me another serum."
Albert looked at him with eyes wide with alarm.
"Kevin, no! It was only in case of emergency"-
"It is an emergency, now fetch me the goddamn serum."
His father immediately complied and almost crawled to the table at the complete end of the room, carefully taking the tube in his hand. Albert had managed to make four of them, but Kilgrave wanted more, despite the fact that they weren't much embryos left.
Albert returned and finally gave the cursed tube to his son. Kilgrave studied the purple liquid inside, the very essence of his power, scattered into dead, useless embryos. He wondered if he could have still controlled Jessica had his power been complete, and not circulating into the veins of dead children he had never known.
"Clean up this mess," he said absent-mindedly to the researchers around. "Dad, take a syringe."
This was the part Kilgrave hated the most. He was incapable of driving the needle straight into his arm, a scar he had inherited from his childhood. He silently watched his father fill up the empty little container with the purple liquid, until it was full. Kilgrave stretched out his arm and quickly glanced away as the needle approached his skin, until he felt the cold bite of the metallic instrument in his veins. Then, power. Kilgrave gasped as pure, raw power flooded in his veins, in his blood. His power, which was returned to him after such a long, long time. His whole body violently shook, as if it was being burned from the inside. Fire seemed to course through his veins, in each and every one of his limbs. During a single, brief moment, Kilgrave was completely blind to the world around him, all of his senses being overcome with pain, sending over and over the same message to his brain. Then, slowly, the pain faded away, and Kilgrave let a huge gasp of relief, finally coming back in full possession of his body, still faintly shaking. His father, who had watched the entire scene, stood silent. He didn't want to think how this monster that was gorging itself with the blood of dead children was his son.
Kilgrave slowly stood from the chair he had been sitting in, his vision still a little blurry. When he turned to his father, Albert had to stop himself from retching. Half of his son's face was covered in purple veins, each one of them beating and pulsing and writhing like a mass of ugly worms. The anger from Kilgrave's face was gone, replaced with his usual, confident smile.
"Get the camera, Dad. I have a new message for Jessica."
Jessica was awakened by a peculiar sound. She had fallen asleep after eating a little bit of her food in a little dirty street corner, completely forgotten between two huge buildings, hidden by the safe cloak of darkness. She had slept an uneasy sleep, and what has seemed at first to be a part of her dreams turned out to be quite real. The sound was reverberating on the walls of the buildings, as if thousands and thousands of feet had decided to walk into a similar direction. Jessica slowly stirred and, after packing up the rest of her stuff, got out of her hiding place and peeked into the city that was now bathing in the sun. Her first impression had been right; thousands and thousands of people were walking into the same direction, going into the buildings, climbing up the stairs. Stunned, Jessica took a hesitant step outside of her corner of darkness and slowly advanced into the light, momentarily forgetting the danger. However, nothing happened as people passed her by, completely ignoring her. Nobody threw themselves at her or screamed her name. The streets were emptying as people climbed the emergency stairs or went up in the buildings. Curious, Jessica looked up and froze as she suddenly caught sight of the tiny silhouettes of people gathering on the very top of the buildings. She looked around in growing horror as she saw that every building's roof was slowly filling itself with more and more people. A mother, holding close her baby, passed Jessica as she began to climb the stairs. The baby made a pitiful sound, his tiny blue eyes looking straight at Jessica.
"Hey New York, go off to the highest building and jump!"
Jessica startled as she heard her own voice, distorted in her head, saying that phrase again and again, until it wasn't her voice anymore. Not, it was the Purple Man's, comfortably sitting in a chair, and laughing to death while watching the entire city throwing itself to death. Jessica clenched her fist.
"Not letting that happen, asshole".
It was good to hear her voice, her own voice, ringing in the cold air of New City. Jessica felt strangely relieved and even more determined. Her mind cleared of the last remains of the panic, the horror, the fear, the pity, the burden of bearing thousands of citizens' life on her shoulders. Her thoughts raced with the usual cold, calculating manner of her P.I.'s side. Jessica saw possibilities, and quickly formulated hypotheses. One: She was still free. Two: Kilgrave was upset and growing impatient. Three: He was sending her a message.
Jessica looked up again. She was used to Kilgrave using human beings to send her "messages" by now, but she needed more. She quickly entered the nearest building which was, of course, open. People were gathering in the hall, waiting for others to use the stairs or the elevator. Jessica carefully dogged them. These were the same people roaming the streets barely a day before, looking for her. The city was really changing according to Kilgrave's whims, and Jessica didn't like it at all.
Suddenly she startled as she heard Kilgrave's voice, coming off from one of the rooms lining themselves in the corridor. She couldn't make out his words, but the voice, confident and smug as usual, was definitely his. Cursing herself, Jessica slowly went to the apartment in question and carefully pushed the door left ajar. The voice broke again, shattering the silence. It was coming right from the living room. Jessica slowly made her way there, her body tensing, ready to fight. The living room was completely empty. Jessica had no doubt its real occupant was patiently waiting in the building, if not already on the roof.
She heard Kilgrave's voice again, much clearer, as if he was directly in front of her, but with a metallic tone. Jessica raised her eyes, the shadow of a smile forming on her lips despite the entire situation, mentally beating herself for being so scared of the TV. However, the smile completely fell when she saw what was on the screen.
Through the little glitches and bugs that were occasionally frizzling on the old screen, stood Trish. She was standing right in front of a windows, her pretty blue eyes usually so full of life completely dull and glazed. She looked tired, her cheekbones having grown hollow, her hair messy and half covering her face. Jessica even thought that she could see her shaking on the screen, unless it was the glitches. Next to her stood Kilgrave. Jessica clenched her fist, painfully restraining herself from directly punching the TV screen and send it flying across the street. Right now, at this instant, she didn't want to hear what he had to say, especially with Trish next to him. Of course Jessica had known something was wrong the moment Trish didn't answer her phone, but it wasn't something she could solve at the moment, and there wasn't much she could have done to save her, for it was already too late. Kilgrave had designed a specific maze for her in the streets of New York city, and finding Trish wasn't on the way he had intended for Jessica.
Sighing, Jessica took a hold of herself, put a chair in front of the TV, turned up the volume and listened.
"Jessica."
Jessica bristled. The way he had said her name, the intensity in his voice and in his eyes, was as if he was really speaking to her, right now in that deserted room, and not through some recorded message on a decaying TV screen. So much that she couldn't stop herself from answering:
"I'm listening."
She shivered at the sound of her own voice, thinking that she had just answered a television post. Maybe she was finally going crazy.
"I know that by now you must have noticed the… peculiar state of the city and its inhabitants."
He cocked his head to the side, amused, staring directly at the camera. Jessica thought that that was exactly what he would have done had they had a real conversation. God, she knew his mimics better than her own parents'.
"Since the cattle has been absolutely useless and incapable of executing a simple task, I'm removing them. Change the methods, not the goal, I guess."
He shrugged, in that casual and disinterested way Jessica had grown to hate. She thought about the mother holding her baby, and the thousands of other mother holding their babies standing on a roof, and she saw even more red when she thought about the dispassionate way he had used to call them "cattle".
"Anyway, as you can see, I'm with dear Patsy here." (He shot Trish an amused look, as if she was the most amusing doll he had seen in his life.) "Everybody has to go on the highest roof they can find, and if you do not come quickly, I'm afraid they will all have to jump. Patsy here will be the first."
Trish barely moved next to him, but Jessica swore she had seen a flash of fear in her sister's eyes.
"All I can say is hurry up Jessica Jones, otherwise it will be one hell of a rain in New York city."
He smiled again. Jessica clenched her fists so hard that she felt the bite of her nails through her skin. She was angry, angry at him for playing with the lives of so many people, angry at herself for not stopping him before, angry that she hadn't checked if the bus had killed him, angry that she hadn't had the courage to snap his neck when she had the occasion. But, mostly, she was afraid. She was afraid for Trish, standing in front of an open window. She was afraid for Luke, whom she had left, defenseless, in the hospital. She was afraid for Malcom, who was probably on their building's roof by now, afraid for the little girl she had lost when she got attacked, afraid for the mother and her baby. And Jessica was afraid for herself, too. But this, she would rather die before letting Kilgrave know.
Shaking, pushing the chair apart, Jessica slowly went up to the TV, gently turned off the volume. Then she slammed her feet in the television, breaking the screen, the little glitches and Kilgrave's confident smile. She slammed it again and again, until the poor furniture was no more than an unrecognizable pile of broken circuits and shattered glass. What was left of the TV flew across the room and was smashed again the pavement of the street.
Jessica felt better. She quickly got out of the building, doing her best to avoid the residents' empty stares. Even without Kilgrave's instructions she had recognized the building, an old TV studio where Trish's mother forced her to come when they had to shoot a scene for Patsy's show. Jessica would never forget this poor excuse of a mother, dragging her screaming child behind her, slapping her when she didn't want to get in front of the cameras. This place was nothing but bad memories, for both of the sisters. Kilgrave had chosen well the spot, once again.
When Jessica got to the building, it was barely noon. It had seemed a lifetime to her since this nightmare started, while it had only been two days. Jessica had done as quickly as she could to get to the building, but it had turned out to be quite easy since all the streets were empty. Jessica only had to raise her head to see half of the citizens of New York perched on every building's roofs, like some strange birds that would have invaded the city. The city was completely silent, deserted of its usual polluted sounds. However, from time to time Jessica could still hear echoes of Kilgrave's voice ringing in the street, from some abandoned TV post or a radio station in a car.
She stood outside the building, analyzing the situation. The skyscraper was covered with antennas, which were blossoming like curious metallic flowers on the side of the building. The people who couldn't have reached the roof were standing outside their window, looking straight ahead of them. Despite craning her neck as best as she could, Jessica couldn't glimpse a sight of Trish. No sight of Kilgrave as well.
Jessica finally stepped inside, swallowing back the fear and anger that had been the only two emotions she had felt in the past twenty-four hours. However, the emotions quickly dulled inside of her, cowering before her determination, for Jessica was resolved to put an end to this. Whatever was going to happen up there, this would be the end of all this madness. Or at least she hoped. The hall was completely empty, as expected; Jessica quickly stepped inside the elevator. The door closed and Jessica startled as she heard the cheerless automatic voice of the machine as it asked her which floor she wanted to go. It had been so long since Jessica hadn't heard a voice, a real humane voice, not controlled and lifeless, apart from hers and Kilgrave's, that she had almost forgotten what it was like; no, worse, she had become used to it. The thought shook her with such violence that she almost cried, all the despair rushed over her like a mad tidal-wave, before retreating as quickly as it came. Pulled herself together, she naturally chose the highest floor; of course Kilgrave wouldn't want her to be able to get down. Jessica felt like a prisoner, except that she was willingly going back into her own cell instead of escaping it. She almost laughed. Maybe she was mad. Trish would have said that she was brave. With this thought in mind, Jessica finally pressed the button. The elevator shook, before rising into the metallic corpse of the building.
Jessica watched the little red numbers flash up on the little screen on the elevator, each one bringing her closer and closer to the top; further and further from her freedom. Dread and anguish were rising alongside the ride of the infernal numbers, but Jessica ignored them. She had to. She had to be strong, for Trish, for everyone else, and for herself. However, she couldn't push away this fear, stronger than anything else she could feel at the moment: she was alone.
The elevator shook. The doors opened. Jessica stepped outside, her heart beating loudly in her chest. A long, dark corridor opened in front of her. Jessica could see a faint light at the end of it, barely illuminating what she supposed was a larger room: the stage. She, Jessica Jones, was entering the stage, and the puppeteer was waiting for her.
Sighing, Jessica slowly walked into the corridor, cautiously, listening to her steps echoing on the empty walls. Small light bulbs were faintly flickering in empty offices or studios. She took all her time; she didn't want to give Kilgrave the impression that she was eager to meet him. Or afraid. Jessica slowed down near the door that was hiding the larger room where she had seen the light; now it was shining stronger behind the glass. Nothing could be heard, only silence. Taking a huge, deep breath, she put her hands on the wood and pushed.
Jessica Jones entered the stage.