Disclaimer: The following content contains harsh language to show the nature of the characters. This ties into the second chapter, as the first and third are past chapters and this one is another present chapter that continues on after chapter 2, keeping on with the whole Redux theme.

I had to edit and re-upload this chapter due to me being heavily sleepy last night while writing this. The grammatical errors were so many that I just could NOT ignore it and had to do something about it as I don't want people to think I'm that careless a writer. It's already bad enough that I'm an uncontrollable comma splicer. Lol.

Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter, as well as the ones for the previous copy of this one, and I'm glad it didn't take quite that long to get this chapter up. Haha! Let me know how I did, and tell your friends about this story! I appreciate all the feedback, and you guys are awesome! =D

CHAPTER 4 – The Beast of Conflict

Crickets chirping, the sound of grass crunching beneath feet moving too quick to remain constantly beside one another. Her shoes are caught in an indefinite game of peek-a-boo while her eyes and the scenery were also partaking in said game.

She glances back as she keeps her pace. Nothing there, nothing beyond bushes and all which was green. Her heart begins to race, blood still spurting from her injured nose. She was too terrified to let the pain take her over. Her life was at stake, which took precedence over the pain. She didn't know how much longer this game of cat and mouse would last. He was gonna find her. That's what the frightened pessimist inside her reiterated. That was the daunting reality she couldn't shake loose from her mind.

She got as far as she could before sudden sharp stabbing sensations overtook her, shooting through her abdomen, instantly dropping her to her knees in shear agony and fear. It was time, God, it was time. Not now. Not like this.

She broke down into tears realizing her dreary fate. There was no way she could go on, and the inevitable was about to happen. No good could possibly come of this.

She sensed a presence and looked behind her, seeing the shadowy silhouette of an ominous figure sauntering her way. It was him. Her attacker was just moments away from finishing the job he started. There was nothing she could do. She was doomed, and so was the life form that was preparing to slip from its temporary dwelling after the 9 months it was allotted.

She had wished this moment could have been different. She couldn't help but feel it was all her fault for the pain and suffering she had caused her former significant other; the man who could have been there to protect her and comfort her at this hour; the man who could have been the one to provide her with another outcome; a safer, more heartwarming outcome.

She became possessed by sorrow and doom. She was preparing herself for defeat as her attacker got closer and closer, taking his sweet time once he noticed she was out of steam.

She lay in the grass with her back flat, hoping she could try and play dead. That theory became an impossible mission as more pains began shooting through her, causing her to scream out like a wild banshee.

The silhouette finally gained color as it passed through the darkness, into the illumination of the pale orange streetlight shining on his face. His visage was the personification of every evil intention an individual could conjure up as he slowly stalked his prey, his eyes narrowed in sadistic glee, his lips arched upward with a noticeable scar on his left cheek. His cleanly white teeth peered out of his grin, showing slight hints of salivation.

"Well, well, well, looks like time just ran out for you," he quipped with that distinguishably eerie voice that made your skin crawl the moment its piercing sound invaded your mundane sense of hearing.

She continued sobbing as she maintained her defeated poise, sprawled out on the grass, those sharp pains assaulting from all angles. Her attacker suddenly knelt down, removing the butcher knife from his back pocket. The very sight of the shiny sharp blade caused her sobbing to intensify as she had no choice but to brace herself for what she knew was coming her way.

The assailant took the knife and smoothed the side of the blade across her protruding stomach. "Looks like our little guy's getting impatient over having to stay in there, isn't he?"

"If you're gonna kill me, you kill him too," she snarled, attempting to arrest her sobbing, putting on that valiant bravado that was becoming more and more authentic. If this was her time, she figured she might as well get through those final moments and embrace it.

"What?" her attacker questioned, somewhat taken aback.

"You heard me you son of a bitch!"

He shook his head. "I would have taken you to be a better mother than that."

"What kind of mother would I be if I gave birth to my child, only for him to fall into the hands of a sick bastard like you?"

That eerie smile parsed his lips. "A mother without a whole lot of options, baby." He then knelt down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead as she closed her eyes, flinching in disgust. "I promise you though," he began while caressing her innocent face, "your son's gonna grow up to be the same kind of 'honorable man' his father is. Taking lives will be his game."

"If his father were here, he'd blow you off the face of the earth, with the fury of God's own thunder."

A soft cackle disrupted their dialogue. "Sweetheart, here's a bit of reality for you. God himself can't stop me. I've been through so much hell and torment, and agony over the past few months…" His face suddenly grew serious, "…even God had better stay the fuck out of my way, because I'm done fucking around." He then began waving the blade around in her face. "Your little boyfriend, didn't know who he was fucking with when he decided to stick his nose in my business."

"You're a notorious psychopath! Your business WAS his business. Justice was his business!"

"Justice? That mere illusion of society that rarely matches reality. A realist like me wines and dines on the moment, no matter what the cost, no matter what the expense. If the expense befalls me, I make sure I get payback. That brings us to this moment, as I look into your beautiful hazel eyes, sweat dripping from your trembling forehead; you trying your best not to reveal your true state of mind…that you're absolutely terrified right now. That's the moment. That is this moment, and in this moment, I get to be God. Can't beat that right?"

A short pause before that menacing look once again materialized on his face, mood swings appearing to be the norm for him. "You wanna talk about justice? Huh? You hear me, you fucking whore! You wanna talk about fucking justice?" Another scream forced itself out of her as his tirade seemed to have caused more pain to return to her abdominal area. "Where was MY justice?" he roared. "Where was Tyler's justice? Huh? Everybody is so fucking self-righteous, doing whatever the fuck they want to do, because they think it's justified. But when their sins comes back to greet them, guys like me, oh, we need to answer to justice. We need to be brought to justice?"

"Well, that goes both ways, don't it? I said I was God, right? I'm going to find your little boyfriend. And when I do, He shall repent. He shall fall before my feet, screaming my name, begging for mercy, begging me to make the pain stop; to make all the agony and torment I pay him back with, stop….You listening to me bitch?"

His words went virtually unacknowledged as she slowly started to fade from consciousness. "Hey! Wake the fuck up, I'm not finished with you yet!" the man roared as he knelt back down and proceeded to shake her.

"Bitch, I said wake up!"

"Wake up!"

"Wake up!"

"Shawn, wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Ay Dios Mio, wake up!"

"Huh, what…wha…wha…wha…wha?" Shawn's head once again shot off his desk, revealing another cold sweat on his forehead. This time, he was fully aware of his surroundings. "What's up?" He asked, trying to play off his interrupted napping. Sergio gawked at him in disbelief as Shawn's hands instinctively went for his eyes, attempting to rub them back to life.

"Jeez, are you narcoleptic or something? You've been doing this all day, man. At lunch I had to tie a handkerchief around your neck and fish you out of your soup!"

Shawn's reply was forced through a yawn. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"What'd you do, throw a wild party with hookers or something? And you couldn't invite me?" Sergio was smiling; Shawn was not as he searched for the clock to see how much time he had wasted in this class.

"What time is it?"

"Almost time for the last bell," answered Sergio, slipping his worksheet into his folder.

"What day is it?"

Sergio stopped what he was doing, turning around to gawk confusedly at his best friend sitting behind him. "You serious?"

"Are we in March or April?" Shawn's voice had gained quite a bit of aggravated base, catching Sergio off guard.

"What?" Sergio still didn't know what Shawn was talking about.

"This is 2011, right?"

"Dude, this is September…2010…are you sure you're okay?"

Shawn winced as a headache began to set in. "Why does this feel like the new year already?"

"At the rate you're going, vato, you'll have slept way into the new year."

"Mr. Reece?"

"WHAT?" At that moment, Shawn didn't care that it was actually his teacher who had called his name this time, his reaction uncontrollably carrying the full weight of his coarse mood.

Mrs. Anderson was hesitant for a split second, caught off guard by the miffed reaction. "Well, somebody's cranky today," she quipped with a mixture of light-heartedness and offence.

"I just woke him up from his nap," began Sergio. "The same thing happens with my mom." Shawn flashed Sergio a disgruntled look.

"Mr. Reece, do you have the handout I passed around?"

"I think so," replied Shawn, still eying Sergio, both eyes filled with disdain.

"It's for tomorrow's speaker assessment."

"Speaker assessment?" asked Sergio, still entranced in Shawn's melancholy glare.

"Yes, we have guest speakers coming in; agents from the FBI's behavioral Analysis Unit."

"In Quantico?" asked a random student.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Anderson. "Agents David Rossi and Aaron Hotchner."

"FBI," began another student, "that sounds all interesting and stuff, but all they're gonna be doing is talking?"

Mrs. Anderson glanced at the ceiling with a smirk, knowing full well where this conversation had the potential of going. "Yes, Candice," she replied, maintaining her glance.

"For an entire hour?" replied the Hispanic brunette.

"Possibly." Said Mrs. Anderson, eyes on her questioning pupil.

"Are they at least good looking?"

"Oh..que la," interjected Sergio in Spanish, with a soft uncontrollable sigh. He face-palmed hard in embarrassment, although her response really didn't surprise him all that much. Typical Candice to be looking for somebody to fulfill her eye candy needs.

The teacher almost had nothing to say in return, somewhat caught off guard by the random question. "Well… ye… uhh… ye... uhhh… I happen to think so…"

"No," retorted Candice, quickly cutting her off. Mrs. Anderson shot Candice a wide eyed look while smiling at the same time. How did she know what kind of taste her teacher had? Was she judging by her age?

"Orale, Candy, it's not like that Tyler Lutner kid, that's all over your room, is workin for the FBI."

Candice looked over at Sergio, fully prepared to correct him. "First of all, it's Taylor Lautner, and second of all I wouldn't mind if he was the one comin to our class. Mmmmmm." She licked her lips and sat back in the desk, placing her arms behind the back of her head.

Sergio flashed a disappointed look. "This is supposed to be for educational purposes, not an hour of stare and drool, cochina, you horndog!"

"Can we listen to our ipods if we're quiet?" Candice quickly moved from one conversation to another, shooting an innocent smile at the teacher, hoping she'd relent.

A smirk formed on the elder teacher's face. "Well of course," she taunted. "And then you can go teepee the inside of my car after class."

"Really?" asked Candice and Sergio simultaneously.

"Sure…if you wanna get written up..."

"Meanie…" replied Candice with a defeated look on her face as she eased back in her chair, arms folded like a third grader pouting over having to be stuck inside for recess.

"Candice, it shouldn't be that hard to pay attention to something that's not 6 feet tall whose 'butt looks so cute in those jeans.' " Sergio made the latter part of his comment sound as feminine and high school-girl-ish as he possibly could, throwing both hands in the air in a womanly fashion.

Candice couldn't help but smirk at his goofy behavior. "You do that a little too well," she joked.

"I learn by example," retorted Sergio, implying all the instances where he had seen her act in such a manner.

"I can't help it if I spy it and can't deny it." Sergio rolled his eyes as Candice shut hers and rolled her head from side to side with a grin forced through her puckered lips. All of this back and forth bantering became unnoticed by Mrs. Anderson who's attention appeared to be focused on Shawn. A few previous quick glances had sent messages that something was definitely off with her usually focused student.

"Mr. Reece, you're not looking too well," she observed as Shawn's head rested on his forefingers gently easing back and forth.

"I'm fine," he protested, dryly.

"You sure? Would you like to go to the nurse's office and lie down?"

"I'd like for the end of this day to come."

"Easy holmes," interjected Sergio, "the bell's gonna ring in about 15 minutes."

"Day, not school day, Einstein." Shawn's response was cold. It was becoming more and more apparent his mood was not a very good one. Sergio decided not to say anything back as Candice and Mrs. Anderson shot quick worried glances at him. The teacher then decided to just go back to her lecture and leave him be.

"Okay, so as I was saying earlier, Agents Hotchner and Rossi will be speaking to our class tomorrow…." Her voice suddenly tailed off as Sergio decided to turn back around to maybe attempt some sort of explanation regarding his best friend's discontented behavior.

"You sure you're okay?"

Shawn waited a bit before responding. He closed his eyes as his voice crept out. "Keep asking questions and you won't be." He then peered directly into Sergio's eyes as he grimly uttered those words, which somewhat frightened Sergio a bit, although he would never admit to it. Something wasn't right here, but he didn't want to continue to anger his friend when all he really wanted to know was why he was so hostile today.

The bell suddenly rang causing everyone in the classroom to quickly disperse like a gunshot had just rang out. Shawn, Sergio, and Candice were the last to leave, Mrs. Anderson wiping down her white board as they were heading out. Sergio went to put his hand on Shawn's shoulder, but his friend responded by coldly jerking it off. Candice shot a disturbed glance in their direction. Sergio's eyes narrowed in shock. Shawn slipped his backpack on and moodily disappeared from the maple door frame, Sergio and Candice gawking at each other with uneasiness.

The brooding teenager made his way down the emptying long narrow hallway filled with desolate lockers and only a handful of the those typical students who couldn't get theirs open for the life of them. Making it through the entrance way, he quickly descended down the lengthy ramp to the awaiting line of busses, knowing as always he would not be getting on one of them.

As usual he was in no hurry to get home, wanting to prolong it any way he could. He did this by taking a longer route than the usual 5 or 6 blocks it took for him to get from the building to his front door, and vice versa.

He sauntered out into the parking lot and slowly made his way across it, into a small shopping plaza. He stopped and turned around, the Deltmore high school sign still in plain sight. He stared at it for a few more moments, before turning around and making his way down an alley. He felt one foot trip over the other, and sighed as he knew exactly why.

"Just my luck," he stressed, noticing his shoe was untied. Bending over to correct the problem, he decided to remove the straps of his backpack and set it down beside him. Just as he was tightening the knot over the loops, he sensed something out of the corner of his eye. It was within seconds of that feeling that a figure dashed by, swooping up his belongings without a moment's notice.

"HEY!" Shawn cried out, noticing a slim form dashing out in front of him. Instinctively, he began chasing after the guy, both running through street after street, becoming entangled in the various alleyways. Shawn continued on the chase until he came to the realization that the figure had seemingly vanished. He stopped suddenly, looking around in bewilderment. Feeling out of breath, he was forced to double over to try and catch it.

When a whisper suddenly pierced the silence, Shawn bolted upright, spinning around and coming face to face with the thief himself.

Cooper Pierson. Everyone's typical jock menace to society that existed in every average student's world, whether they liked to acknowledge it or not. There he was, standing there with the backpack in hand, that condescending smile possessing his face.

"Does this belong to you?" he taunted, raising his brows, pretending like he had just stumbled upon a lost item, wondering whose property it was.

Shawn was too heated to be phased by the obvious ploy. "No, dumbshit," he responded. "I just chased you all this way for nothing."

Taken aback a bit, Cooper eased his way towards his prey. "What did you just call me?"

Shawn didn't hold back. "Not just dumb, but deaf, I can tell. For future reference, I don't repeat myself."

Cooper beamed. "Looks like I've got a little smartass on my hands."

Shawn laughed it off. "Little? We're the same age bro."

"I'm not your bro," Coop said with that taunting smirk.

"Coop, I'm not in the mood, so why don't you just hand over my shit, and hit the bricks."

"Not in the mood? And what are you gonna do?"

"Just as soon as I catch my breath, you may find out."

"Yeah, well, while you're 'catching your breath,' I'd like you to meet some friends of mine."

Shawn suddenly had an idea where this was going. With all the books he had read, and all of the other kids he had seen go through similar circumstances, he knew it wouldn't be a good idea to turn around. That didn't stop him from doing it however, and to his prediction, a group of 3 more kids his age were starting to emerge from the alleyways behind them. Shawn came to the realization of his potential fate; however, it still didn't change his mindset.

"Still feel like talking shit, Reece?"

Shawn's turned back around to face his nemesis. "Sure I do," he responded uninterested. "Give me my fucking bag, Pierson."

"Show a little respect to your athletes, fool."

Shawn didn't even care to glance back to see who had just said that. "Get off his dick and mind your own business, alright." he retorted blindly. "This is an A-B conversation and I do believe you know the rest."

"You talk a lot of shit for somebody who knows they're outnumbered right now."

"How about I don't care, alright? You guys wanna go ahead with your pussy ass plan and beat me down in this alley, go right ahead. I'm not afraid of the odds. I want my property, and I'm not backing down until I get it."

Cooper played it off. "Well, maybe you should start watching where you set stuff down."

"You watch me leave the building, and come all the way down here to try and pick me off, as if I'm some threat to you. I bet you don't even have a reason, do you, other than that you're a punk ass bitch with too much time on your hands."

The jock pretended to be offended. "Ouch," he said, placing his hand on his chest, trying not to smile.

"What's the matter? You still hurting over the cheerleader incident?" Cooper's smile suddenly faded. "Yeaaah, didn't think I heard about that did you? Boy, she sure fucked you up good, didn't she? You must be having all kinds of self-esteem issues. I mean, how many guys who think they're on top of the world can deal with getting kicked in the nuts and maced in the face by a girl they thought would be an easy score?"

Those words struck a nerve as the star football player didn't take too kindly to having his masculinity questioned. "Hey, shut the fuck up right now Reece. You think this is a game?"

"I think I've got my breath back," replied Shawn, realizing he was no longer huffing and puffing.

Cooper's eyes suddenly narrowed in shear scornful disdain "You won't have it for long," he coldly muttered.

With that, they all closed in on him. Reality finally sunk in that despite how fearless a visage he could put on, reality said he truly was outnumbered. Before he had time to think of a way to defend himself, he felt something force its way right up between his legs, the excruciating pain instantly dropping him to his knees in shear agony.

"Get him up," ordered Cooper, playing the part of the ringleader in this 4 on 1 assault. Each of the associates grabbed an arm as the third stood behind them, preparing to deliver another blow. After a quick running start, his leg elevated off the ground, striking Shawn once more, hard, in that sensitive area, the pain magnifying as it escaped through a gritted groan from the powerless teenager.

Cooper slowly inched his way closer to Shawn's face, the backpack still in hand. "You want this?" he taunted coldly. "You want this?" He reached into his pocket with the other hand, pulling out a small slim object. Shawn realized what it was as his heartbeat suddenly started to elevate uncontrollably. The small blade clicked out from its dormant dwelling inside the pocketknife, the bright sun reflecting off of the silver coat, causing it to gleam forebodingly. One of the associates used their hands to muzzle Shawn's mouth as Cooper held the bookbag inches away form the helpless boy's face. "You want this, you're gonna have to earn it."

In an instant, the bag hit the ground with a loud thud as Cooper moved in, making sure he had one hand for the blade, and the other free to aid it in the damage it was about to inflict on a helpless Shawn Reece.