The Following: Peace, Love and Happiness
Episode 9
Old Friends, New Enemies
Ryan continued to eye Joe from across the table with distrustful uncertainty. Part of him was regretting him coming here, while another part knew it was the best. He had a lot of questions that he hoped Joe would have answers to.
"I can't begin to describe how amazing it feels to see you again," Joe said with a large smile. "I have surely missed you."
"The feelings aren't mutual," Ryan grimly said.
Joe's smile widened. "Spare me the adolescent teen drama," He said with a chuckle. "You and I have a special bond and that is why we keep meeting like this." He paused for a few moments and then continued in a low tone. "It is destiny. Our destiny."
"So how has your stay here been so far?" Ryan asked in a mocking tone.
Joe laughed loudly. "Oh Ryan," He said, "I have missed your sense of humor you know."
"I am glad that I can oblige," Ryan answered sarcastically.
Joe shifted in his spot within the boundaries of the multiple handcuffs. "The same old Ryan," Joe said shaking his head. "So how is Claire doing these days?"
"I don't know," Ryan shrugged. "Haven't seen much of her these days." He didn't know why he just said that.
Joe gave him an odd look. "You mean you guys aren't an item?" He asked noting the brief pained looked Ryan had. "Did she tell you that it will be better off if we don't see each other, even though she loves you with all her heart? That being together would bring up only nightmares and that you will live better without her."
Ryan looked at him surprised. That was indeed the conversation he had with her. After she first told him that they shouldn't be together and that he should start a new life, he didn't want to believe her. He thought that she was just traumatized and would need time to relax. He called her a few days later, but got the same response. Her last words still rang in his mind like a dream you can't forget.
"I will always love you," She said on the phone in the middle of crying. "But it is time to move on. Goodbye Ryan."
"I take it by your silence, that is exactly what she told you," Joe said with a thin smile. "Oh Claire, you have broken so many hearts." His smile faded and he looked at him seriously. "Did you know she said the same thing to me?"
"No I didn't," Ryan said not wanting to talk about Claire. He came here for a reason and it wasn't about Claire.
"She told me the same thing a few months into our relationship," Joe began, "She wanted to end it, but I won her back over with my amazing English charm."
Ryan sighed and ran his hand though his thin hair. "You are one charming person," He said shaking his head annoyed.
"I know I am enjoying this small talk," Joe said cracking his neck loudly. "But that isn't why you came to visit me," He paused for a few moments and leaned slightly forward in his spot bracing against the handcuffs. "Speaking of which. Getting me visitation nights must have been hard." He gave him a playful grin. "You must have some serious connections." He paused and lowered his voice. "Now that you are a celebrity."
"No thanks to you," Ryan said sourly. He folded his hands on the unsteady table and leaned forward. "Anyways, I didn't come here to see you because I wanted to." He said coolly. "I came here out of mere devastation."
"You wound me with your words Ryan," Joe said pretending to feel offended. He gave him a fake sniffle. "If I begin crying, you may have to wipe the tears, because I can't do it."
Ryan ignored Joe's sarcasm. "You know you have a lot of pissed off fans out there," He said thinking of the young guy who lit himself on fire in Times Square the other day.
Joe smiled at Ryan. "I naturally assumed that I would have some angry followers out there. But I bet you can handle them. Especially with me out of the picture."
"You would think that would be the case," Ryan said, "But ever since your arrest, we have a lot more to worry about." He cleared his throat loudly. "Molly is alive and very much in the picture again as well as Mark. He is missing."
"My dear Molly," Joe said happily. "She is definitely a handful." He winked at Ryan. "And you would know a lot about that."
Ryan ignored Joe again. "Molly and Mark, we can handle. At some point though, they will slip up and we will catch them. But there is someone else that came out of hiding after your arrest." He paused for a few moments. "What does the name Amable mean to you?"
Joe felt a rush of excitement when Ryan mentioned that name. A name he hadn't heard for a long time. He couldn't remember how long it had been, but if his memory was correct. It would have to at least have been around ten years or so.
"Never heard of the person," Joe lied. "Who is it?"
Ryan knew that Joe was lying to his face. He could see it clearly. When he mentioned Amable to him, he could see how enthusiastic he got. If he didn't know Joe so well, then maybe he'd believe him. But not after all that they have been through together.
"Are you sure?" Ryan asked, "Maybe your memory is spotty since you have been in prison."
Joe laughed at his comment. "It is nice to know that you haven't changed one bit." He shifted in his spot again. The handcuffs were beginning to cut off some circulation. "And to think I was afraid that you would have changed."
"I have changed," Ryan said narrowing his eyes at him. "And not for the better." He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. "Now you are going to tell me who Amable is, because I know that you know of him."
"What is my incentive Ryan?" Joe asked slyly. "Because so far, I see nothing that will give such an incentive."
Ryan sighed loudly. He knew that Joe was just toying with him. From the moment he met him, Joe always liked to twist things around. Make a game out of everything. If he were in charge, it made everything better. Especially when Joe was smarter than the person he was playing around with. Manipulation was one of his strong points.
"I see how this is," Ryan shook his head annoyed. "What do you want?"
Joe smiled at Ryan playfully. "How is Mike doing these days?" He asked. "Is he still fighting the good fight?"
Ryan thought back to one of his first interviews he had with him when he broke his fingers. He wished he could do the same thing now. Would the guards stop him or would they let it go and actually watch torture Joe? If he did torture him, how would that help? Physical harm would heal. It was the emotion harm that Ryan wanted to inflict on Joe. That would be one that would take a long time to heal if it ever did.
"We are all fighting the good fight," Ryan answered his question indirectly.
"Well someone has to do it," Joe said with chuckle. "Anyways, I have a simple request and if you work on getting it taken care of, I will tell you whatever you want to know."
"What do you want Joe?" Ryan asked not in the mood to go through it. He knew he had to though. If he ever wanted to get some answers from him.
"I am glad you are coming to your senses," Joe said pleased at him. He cracked his neck loudly. "You see, there is this guy that lives in the cell across from and he is just so terribly," He paused and shook his head tiredly. "He is just so irksome."
"So what is your point?" He asked confused.
"I want him transferred to another cell," Joe said with hope. "He is one of the most irritating men that I have ever met."
"You want him moved to a different cell? That's it?" Ryan asked surprised at such an odd request.
"I know it sounds strange," Joe said with a laugh, "The fearsome Joe Carol." He raised his voice loudly when he mentioned his name. "Is simply asking for that annoying fat man to be moved. That is all I ask for."
Ryan wasn't sure if this was a joke or not. Joe always had something hidden up his sleeve. It didn't matter where he was or what situation, he always had a way to get out of it. Most of them involving lies and murder.
"I'll see what I can do," Ryan said after a moment pause. "So what do you know about Amable."
Joe leaned forward in his spot just as far as the handcuffs would allow him. "Amable," He said with an adventurous twinkle in his eyes. He chuckled as a twisted smile grew on his face.
Mark was in his room, laying down on his bed deep in thought. His eyes were closed and he was slowly beginning to fall asleep. Despite not doing anything since he came here, he was exhausted. Yet, as tired as he was, his mind was going a mile a minute. He still didn't know if he could trust Amable or anyone in this house for the matter. They were nice and welcoming, but he was family so it made sense. Even among them and the freedom he had here, he still felt trapped. He still felt alone.
In the beginning everyone, except for Amable, looked at him strangely. They knew who he was and maybe that was the reason for their stares. It bothered him all the time, but he dealt with it. At least he was relatively safe here. Out there, on his own, it would be far more perilous.
"Why are you so gloom?" He heard his brother ask.
Mark opened his eyes and sat up awake. He saw his brother standing by the foot of the bed with a warm smile on his face. His brother always knew how to relax him, more than anyone else he ever met. Even more than their own mother.
"I am feeling trapped here," Mark began sourly. He ran a hand through his hair.
Luke gave him an understanding look. "Of course you are," He said gently. "You aren't following your heart." He sat next to his brother on the bed "You aren't doing what needs to be done."
Mark looked at him confused. "What is that exactly?" He asked.
Luke reached out and touched his brother's shoulder affectionately. "You know what needs to be done," He said with a small smile.
Mark indeed knew what must be done. It would be hard, but it was imperative that he did it. There was so much at stake and he couldn't sit around here in the house anymore. It was causing him to grow stir crazy. He was losing his mind. He needed action and real soon.
"How long has it been since you last killed someone?" Luke asked in a slightly dangerous, yet soft way.
"It has been too long," Mark said thinking back to the owner of the cabin in the woods he was nearly captured in. "A few months at least if my memory is right."
Luke moved in front of his brother and looked him dead in the eye. "You know that's pretty pathetic," He said with a playful tease. "You need to kill someone Mark."
"I know," Mark sighed grimly.
"Hey perk up man," Luke said trying to brighten the mood. "Don't be a pussy. I know you can be a tough ass. I have seen it before."
At that moment, he heard someone clear their throat loudly. Mark felt a pang of fear and embarrassment when he saw Amable standing by his bedroom doorway with a concerned and surprised look on his face. He looked back where Luke was sitting moments ago, but he was gone.
"Are you okay?" Amable asked gently. "Who were you talking to over there?"
Mark wasn't sure what to tell him. He swallowed nervously wondering how crazy Amable thought he was. Was he crazy? Maybe he was crazy. He was talking to his dead brother as if he really were there.
Mark stood up and shrugged his shoulders. "I was just thinking to myself that's all," He said his face feeling hot.
Amable smiled at him. "May I enter?" He asked kindly.
Mark could tell the Amable didn't believe him. "It is your house," Mark simply responded.
Amable's smile widened as he stepped into the room. "That is true," He said gently. "But it is your room and I value privacy."
"Thank you," Mark said uncertain.
Amable looked around the room. It was spotlessly clean and smelled of freshly cleaned laundry. The maid had recently cleaned the room. Yet he also knew that Mark was relatively clean himself, which was also good. He hated messes. Too him, it was considered a form of laziness.
"It is my pleasure," Amable said walking up to a painting that was hung on the wall. It was of Niagara Falls, with the sun setting in the distance. The sky was multicolored and extremely beautiful. "You know this is one of my favorite paintings."
Mark looked at him strangely unsure where he was going with this. "It is nice," Mark said trying to appease him. He did really like it.
"Nice doesn't begin to describe it," Amable said turning toward him. He had a proud look on his face. "I made this for an art convention in Paris and won first prize." He took a few steps away from the picture. "Anyways Mark, how are you enjoying your stay here so far?"
Mark looked at him confused. He wasn't expected this response from him. He sighed and stepped away from the picture. He did kind of enjoy it here. He was well fed, pretty safe, and slept well. Yet, with that, his brother's words lingered in his mind. He had to look out for himself and no one else. His needs came before anyone else's.
"I enjoy it here," Mark simply said with fake enthusiasm.
"I am glad to hear that," Amable said with a smile. He approached him and then continued. "Anyways, I came here to ask you if you wanted to join me."
"Join you?" Mark turned to face him with a weird look on his face.
Amable's smile widened. "Follow me," He said with childlike excitement.
With that Amable left the room. Mark was curious and followed him. "Where are we going?" He asked as they entered the kitchen.
"You'll see," Amable said winking at Annabelle who was making herself a cup of coffee. She eyed her father and then Mark, her expression changing from inquisitiveness to jealousy.
Mark hated to be kept in the dark. It was one of his many pet peeves. Yet he knew that there was nothing he could do but to follow him. They made their way to the basement and to the last room on the far left. Inside the room, there was a woman strapped to the bed. She was in her thirties with creamy white skin and long bright red hair. She had piercing green eyes.
"Her name is Anna," Amable said proudly as he approached her. He trailed a finger along her arm sensually. When he reached her face, he flicked her ear jokingly. "At least that's what she told me, her purse is on the floor there if you want to go ahead and look." Amable pointed to it and shrugged.
Mark stepped into the room and the door shut mechanically. He approached the bed eyeing her with wonder. "What is this?" He asked looking at Amable curiously.
"This is for you my son," Amable said looking at him briefly before returning his gaze to her. "Consider it an early birthday present." He reached out and caressed her cheek. "Mark I want you to have your way with her." She whimpered loudly. "I want you to savage her."
Mark wasn't sure how to take it. He was so surprised with Amable and everything that was set before. He was never expected this. Part of him wanted to go along with it, while another wanted to turn around and leave the room.
Amable was standing waiting for his response. He looked at him and then looked at Anna who was watching him terrified. She was begging him to let her go, but he ignored her. He took a step toward her as he thought of what Luke told him.
"You need to kill someone Mark."
Mark reached out and took her cold hand. She whimpered loudly as he squeezed it as hard as he could for a few moments before letting go He stepped away and began scanning the room for tools. Amable was watching him intently with his arms crossed over his chest. Anna kept looking at the both of them simultaneously with fear.
So far nothing in the room intrigued him. There were plenty of tools, ranging from different types of knives, to hardware tools, but he found nothing interesting. He could use his fists, but that was boring and unoriginal. He was about to give up, when he saw a small blowtorch hanging on the wall. It wasn't what he wanted, but he would use it for fun.
He lit it and then turned to her with a devilish smile on his face. "Hello Anna," He said reaching for her shirt. With a single tug, he tore it off her. "My name is Mark." He tossed the shirt aside. "You probably have heard of me or seen me on the news."
Before Anna could respond, he lowered the flame a few inches from her bare stomach. He began to lightly burn her all over from her waist to her chest. She screamed loudly in pain, but he ignored her.
When her skin was a light red shade, he turned off the blowtorch and then hung it back on the wall. "Did that hurt my dear?" He asked with a tease. He reached out and slowly traced a finger around her belly button. It was hot to the touch. "Toasty," He said before he slapped it as hard as he could.
Anna cried out in pain and then cursed at him. He ignored her again and looked Amable who was watching him silently. He had a proud and excited look on his face. "So far so good," He said to Mark happily.
Mark nodded and then turned back to the tools. He saw a portable tanning lamp in the corner that surprised him. "What is this for?" He looked at Amable with wonder.
"Everything here normal or not can be used for torture," Amable said with a twisted smile. He saw Mark was looking at and chuckled. "You are the artist and this is the masterpiece you are creating." He spread out his arms wide to emphasize the matter.
Mark cleared his throat as he reached for the portable tanning lamp. He plugged it in and then looked at Anna. "I have always thought that I had such pale skin," Mark began. Anna gave him a strange look, but he ignored it and continued. "Then I saw you and man," He began to laugh, "You are the closest thing to Casper that I have ever seen." He shook the lamp tantalizing her. "But I am about to change that."
Mark turned on the lamp setting the heat over her stomach where he just burned her. The lamp's low yet strong heat, burned the skin. It began to harden and blister. She was screaming and crying at the top of her lungs. She was twisting in the restraints trying to break loose, but was unable to move much.
"Don't worry my dear," He said licking his lips. He looked at Amable who had a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses in his hand. "What is that for?"
Amable handed him a shot glass and then poured a shot for the both of them. "It is a time for celebration." He raised the glass high. "To a new chapter," He said clinking glasses with him.
Mark downed the shot and then handed him the empty glass. He coughed at the strength of the whiskey. His eyes began to water, but he wiped them clean and then turned back to the table. He turned off the tanning lamp as and replaced it back in the corner.
When he returned to the table he was surprised to find Ann was gone. Instead he saw Max laying there eyeing him tearfully. She begged him to let her go, but he ignored her. He reached out and slapped her burned stomach again as hard as he could. She screamed in pain and twisted in the restraints.
"I have looked forward to this for so long," Mark said with childlike eagerness. He reached out and grabbed her by the throat. "I am going to torture you. Make you bleed." He paused and lowered his face close to hers. "You killed my brother," He said bitterly. "Now I am going to kill you, then Mike, and then finally Ryan."
Mark slapped her face hard drawing blood. She began to cry watching him intently as he searched the wall for a tool to torture her with. He found a small whip and decided to use that. He grabbed it and then turned back to her, oblivious to Amable and his concerned look.
"Say you're sorry," Mark said whipping her on the stomach.
Max cried out it pain, but didn't apologize.
"Damn it Max," Mark said cracking his neck loudly. He walked around the bed toying with her. "Don't be such a stubborn bitch. Say you are sorry for killing my brother."
Max continued to cry, but didn't say anything. Blood dripped out of her mouth from the slap and there was blood on her stomach from being whipped. Blisters were forming elsewhere on her stomach.
"Don't be stupid Max," Mark continued. "Tell me you are sorry." He began to imitate a girl's voice, "I am sorry Mark for murdering you smart and amazing brother." Mark paused and looked at her with fake embarrassment. "Oh stop it," He gushed back in his normal voice.
Max looked at him horrified and began to beg him in between sobs.
"You are being stupid," Mark said shaking his head.
Mark cursed and began to whip her repeatedly. It took him a few moments to realize he was shouting at her at the top of her lungs. He continued to whip her until he felt Amable grab him by the arm. He looked at him and he told him to stop hitting her.
Mark lowered arm and then looked at the bed. Max was not laying there. She was never laying there. Anna was there the entire time. She was covered in blood. Her stomach ripped open, her face cut up beyond recognition. Blood dripped off the table on to the floor.
"Wow," Mark said breathing heavily. He looked at himself. He was covered in her blood. "That felt good."
Amable knew that Mark had problems. In the bedroom he was talking to Luke as if her were there. But he wasn't there. He was dead. Mark was going crazy, if he wasn't already crazy. Now, he had imagined Max on the table. Something was wrong with him.
Amable smiled at him and opened the whiskey to pour another shot. Mark shook his head not wanting it. "I am not much of a drinker anymore," He said with an excited twinkle in his eyes. He took a step toward him. "But if you have any cake, I would love a piece."
Mike and Max approached the house of Brian's parents. Max knocked on the door and waited patiently in silence for a few moments before his father opened the door. When he saw them standing there he groaned.
"I have nothing left to say to you," He said shaking his head tearfully. He began to close the door.
"Wait, please," Mike said gently. He could smell the alcohol on his breath. "This is important."
Larry Anderson shook his head. "It is always important for you guys," He said sadly. He swallowed loudly. "No you can't come in my house." He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. "I don't want you guys coming back okay."
Mike looked at Max wondering what to do. This wasn't the first time that he had to talk to victims who refused to see him. Sometimes he coerced them enough to ask a few questions, but now and then he had to leave and return later when they calmed down.
"I know how this feels," Max said calmly. "Believe me I do."
"Sure you do," Larry said rolling his eyes at her.
"You don't even know," Max said in a low voice not wanting to get into now.
"If you think I am a wreck," Larry said tearfully. "My wife is even worse." His lowered lip trembled. "She hasn't even left her bed since we came back from the funeral." He took a step toward Max.
"I am sorry for your loss," Max said emotionally. "I really do."
"To hell you do," He said bitterly. "My only child is dead." He shook his head and began to cry. "It took my wife and I nearly ten years into our marriage to have our first kid. A year after Brian was born, my wife had two cysts removed on her fallopian tubes. After the procedure, we realized she couldn't have any more kids." He raised his voice at her. "But we still had Brian and felt blessed. Then he is taken from us." He looked at Mike and Max sourly. "How the hell am I supposed to feel?"
"I…" Mike began.
"Did you think that you could just stroll up here and I would allow you inside as if everything was okay?" Larry asked shaking his head. "You guys are so delusional." He paused for few moments to collect his thoughts and to relax. "Just get out of my face please."
Max decided it was best to leave before things turned ugly. She turned to leave, but stopped when Mike said, "Did you know I lost my dad recently?"
Larry looked at Mike as if he were an idiot. He kept his mouth shut though, unsure what to say.
"He was murdered by Lily Gray. I saw everything clearly and was unable to stop her from killing him." Mike continued sadly. "Did you know that?"
Larry chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "You are pathetic Mike," He shook his head and walked away from him slimming the front door in his face.
Mike stood there shocked for a few moments before he turned and walked away with Max. "Waste of time," He muttered, "Complete waste of time."
Charlene was sitting in the living room watching The Walking Dead. She had a beer in one hand a bowl of popcorn on her lap. Her grandma was fast asleep on the couch snoring loudly. Annoyed that her snoring was louder than the show, she raised the volume knowing that with all the medication she was one, an oncoming train couldn't wake her.
This was one of the best episodes of the walking dead so far. Darryl was one the fan favorite characters but not hers. She liked Rick. He was not only tough, but incredibly crafty and smart. Not to mention she found him extremely sexy. There was something about his long hair, goatee, and eyes that she found attracted. If there was an apocalypse, he would be the person she would love to be by her side.
Charlene emptied the last of the beer and since it was a commercial, she decided to get another. She made her way to the kitchen as quickly as possible not wanting to miss any part of the episode. She opened the fridge and grabbed two beers. One for now and another for later. She closed the fridge and returned to the living room.
She gasped when she saw a man dressed in all black standing in front of her sleeping grandma. He shot her three times in the chest with a silencer before turning toward Charlene. He pointed the gun at her and shot her three times in the chest. She fell to the floor in a bloody heap.
He watched amused as one of the beers landed on floor rolling his way. He smiled and bent down to pick it up. He opened it and then raised the bottle. "Cheers," He said to the both of them. He took a long drink from it. "Refreshing." He turned and saw the walking dead was on. "Oh sweet," He said taking a seat where Charlene was just sitting. He took a handful of popcorn and began to noisily eat it. "Haven't seen this episode yet." He leaned back in the recliner as far back as it could with a smile on his face.
Hey! Hoped you guys that one! Yes! Ryan and Joe met! hope it resembled to their fun and witty conversations in the show.
Hee hee! Anyways more to come!
It is about to get crazier... deadlier..! More to come soon...
shaw18
…