Of Doctor Lisa and Missis Hyde: Part VII
9:21a.m. Still in Ireland. Hotel master bath.
Lisa tipped her head as she studied her reflection in the wooden-carved mirror. Was her hair longer? It looked longer, even somewhat straighter than the months before. Or was it just the stress of living in hiding for all this time finally getting to her head? Was she hallucinating now? She didn't really know.
Oh well, Lisa thought; and she went on rinsing off her hands. Doing so, an ill-metallic aroma clouded her senses. The red flowed from her flesh, gently mingling with the faucet water falling down the drain. And upon exiting the restroom when she finished cleaning up, Lisa tossed the stained blade resting on the counter into the trash bin.
Silently and gradually, she made her way to the end of her twin mattress, gazing straight ahead, avoiding the lifeless body lying in the aisle between the two beds altogether.
She guessed she sat there for an hour or so before she heard the chime of a key and the door clicking open. Jackson finally returned from his own private errands from that early morning.
The sight, honestly, had momentarily stunned him...seeing a pair of legs stretching out from the opposite side of his bed...the pool of blood...with Lisa just sitting there, simply waiting, nursing bruises forming on her arm with a damp cloth.
But rapidly gathering his thoughts back in order, he stirred for his traveling backpack in their closet. He said they needed to leave now and then. There was no time to waste.
"Leese," Jack snapped his fingers in her ear, "pack up!"
Managing to shaking her awake from the trance, Lisa found her footing again on the spot, falling right back into their pattern. "Yeah. Got it."
Stockholm Syndrome, Much?: Part VIII
6:55p.m. Sitting on the farthest side of a Washington State diner. And miserably enough, it was week before Christmas.
At best, they were back in the States like he promised, although, they were far from the tropical city of Miami.
That night's waitress wearing the bleach blonde ponytail style and vibrant coral-red lipstick, returned to their corner table after about twenty minutes, balancing a tray on one hand. She offered Lisa another round of coke. "So, how long have you been with each other?"
Lisa couldn't restrain the immediate roll of her eyes. It was apparent that their waitress fit a stereotype. And a grating one, at that. Her nametag even read: Krissy. Yup, stereotypical. She clicked her tongue. "Not that it's any of your business—but I'm not with him. We're not with each other like that."
"Oh," Krissy said curtly, stretching a cheap smile across her face. "...Okay, sorry. I guess I'm just used to seeing celebrating couples coming here during this time for the year, ya know?"
Jackson on the other hand displayed no particular reaction. He just remained quiet, playing the role of a rather stoic individual. He listened to the short exchange between the girls, and once Krissy's eyes shot towards him in puzzlement, he shrugged it off. "Here's your tip. Thanks."
Krissy took the slipping of cash as her cue to leave them be. "Well whatever, you two have a good holiday, I guess."
Waiting till their waitress strolled out of earshot, Jackson glanced back to Lisa, who happened to be watching him then inquiringly at that next moment.
"What is it?"
She shook her head briefly, "It's nothing really. I just don't know what to call you. What would I call you?"
Would she agree on the term kidnapper, or settle on private stalker? Then again, she wasn't a child that was suddenly snatched away. She made the adult decision to flee with him. Not with him per se, but just with him. And because she had been personally with him, it'd be pointless to call this another chapter of stalking by him... Though, Lisa wouldn't allow her mind to wander all the way to friend. Jackson wasn't too hot for the traditional running-through-a-field-of-daisies-while-holding-hands friendship notion. Not with her. It'd be unprofessional. And all the gods in existence knew that he was teetering over that cliff already.
It wasn't that they utterly despised one another either...no, there was still one fragile cord of tolerance fastening them together yet. Perhaps business partner, or partner in crime, would have been the most appropriate selection, if it weren't for the almost-overly-interpersonal feature lingering there, farther beneath it all.
Lisa sighed at the truthful thought. She'd heard of Stockholm Syndrome as much as the next person, but was she holding complete empathy for Jack all along? Was the idea of him trying to protect her—in a slightly abnormal and unhealthy way—better than considering herself as a hopeless victim? Did she lack the mistreatment from her captor compared to other cases? Nevertheless, even their bond had become paradoxical psychological, it seemed that neither of them were willing to quite verbalize it.
He waved his hand towards her, as if to dismiss the rest of her wonderings. "Always with the questions, Leese..."
Maybe in the end though, that enquiry turned out to be too complex for him to decide on one possibility.
"They never do you any good."
His Life's Puzzle, Completed: Part IX
3:00a.m. Three days after. Just reached another airport, and moving along to board the plane.
How ironic it had been for the both them: when Jackson had hacked into the current hotel's computer system, he mentioned that the Red Eye was the last flight out for that month. Its destination was to a place right outside of Chinatown in New York. Lisa estimated that it was going to be a long ride from one edge of America to the other, particularly accompanied by Jackson, but at any rate they would land on the same side as Florida.
Furthermore, Lisa also figured she should have known better earlier on. She had been wondering lately if this disastrous situation would truthfully trail the two of them directly to their graves. Perchance the theory of handling everything their way on their terms, just to get this done and over with, so Lisa could let it go finally and live again was morphing into nothing but a distant fairytale.
Lisa became so caught up in her dark musings again, that at one moment, she even lost sight of him while they moved with the crowd to locate their gate. They must have been cut off by additional passengers. Lisa whirled round, once, twice in confusion, and she nearly experienced a heart attack when he caught her wrist from behind, pulling her back to match his pace.
"We're right here, Leese," he stated calmly, guiding her down the lane. Their seats this time around however, were more in the back near the engine, behind the right wing. Lisa took the window seat as he took the aisle. Just like before. "Sit. And don't look too concern. I'm still here."
He smirked.
She threw him an unimpressed glower before thrashing her head the other way to focus on her glossy reflection, ignoring him.
"Oh c'mon, Leese, I was kidding."
A full hour had sailed past them before Lisa spoke up again after thinking Jackson had actually planned on simply and purely ditching her there and then from the very start. Planned on sadistically tugging the rug right from under her feet.
"Even though we're killing them off," she breathed through a whisper, "...couldn't your company just hire more, or bribe, more people to take their place?"
Jackson then assumed she had been worrying about it for quite some time. "It's not that easy, Leese. When or if, we are able to wipe out the company's dogs, the bosses will be left without their agents. No agents, no secret political empire or underground lair will be there to maintain. It'd take many more years for them to track down the right sort of people. And on top of that, the training itself is not a speedy and joyful process to put into effect and supply."
At a moderate angle, Lisa viewed that as happy news. Maybe the worst case scenario didn't exist yet. This could be all over soon, considering it would cause his company evident pain to recuperate its core members— Though despite seeing the small glimmer of hope, what did Jack mean by the rest of his correction exactly?
"Tracking down the right sort of people?" she asked, immediately imagining a horde of sociopaths and street criminals teaming together under one perilous roof. "You make it sound like 'the bosses' believe it's an honor to be chosen or something..."
He only had to clear his throat and cast a pressing look her way in return so the words were soundlessly mentioned. Well, it sort of is.
"And you were the right material for them before? Back then?"
He folded his arms at this. "My father was too. And his before him."
His father? Within a minute or two, it hit Lisa. So, that's what the company really is.
It was like a generation-on-generation mob. They targeted the right type of people to take into their circle. Right as in birthright.
"It's made up of certain bloodlines." Her confident accusation made her to remember that fateful night, sitting at the Tex Mix bar—
"...Well, that wasn't very nice of your parents." She laughed lightheartedly.
He smirked, going along with her humor. "No. That's what I told them...before I killed them."
The "Jack" she had always known had never lied to her... Was there really a rational motive he would've ever possessed to be driven into slayin his own father, or mother, his own kin? Did he ever attempt to escape this certain life-choice as well by doing as such? After all...it was somewhat obvious that he'd felt utterly exasperated, and seemed up to his neck in trouble on the Red Eye years ago. He had even shown a little desperation as he whined repeatedly over the measly phone call. Almost like it was his damned burden to carry too...like it had to become a successful assassination under his name, or either it was his own safety being pushed to the edge of a blade, sort to speak.
"Congratulations, Leese," he said, reclining further back in his seat with closed eyes. "You fit in the last puzzle piece."
Alright, hello again. I obviously bacame inspired to continue this drabble collection. And on Part IX, I don't solely believe that's the only explanation why he got caught up in his company. It was just meant to be an entertaining "what if" concept. I tried to have various moods for each part, ranging from emotional frightening to comical, to dramatic just to create an interesting flow.
Reviews are still welcomed!