↞ Chapter Nine ↠

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Season Six, Episode Two


I broke in through the back door, I had enough evidence to prove that the man was at least a suspect, and if I strained my ears, I could make out the distant shouts of someone in danger.

It was obvious that it would be in the basement, but that didn't make the process of going down the creaking stairs any easier.

"Oh my god." My breath caught in my through, it was vile down here, so many images on the walls that showed what the man had done to each man and woman.

My eyes locked on pictures that didn't match the rest of them, and when I stepped closer, they were pictures of me. Not just me, but also Jameson, and Danny, and even one with Linda. The idea that Thomas Wilder had been following close enough to get these photos made me feel sick.

I heard faint crying, and suddenly I was back to the mission at hand. "It's alright, Ashley." I spoke her name as a way of comforting her, reaching one (slightly shaking) hand to her and working on untying the rope around her wrists. "I'm a detective, I'm here to get you out."

If I'd been able to concentrate on my surroundings just a bit more and a little less on calling dispatch and getting Ashley to her feet, I would have heard the classical music start playing.

The remembered sounds of some obscure classical piece rang through my ears, I turned a moment before it turned bed.

I yelped, lifting my hands in an attempt to protect myself, the sickening crunch of the hammer hitting my forearm rather than my head was almost well appreciated. I lifted my gun, pointing it at the man and pulling the trigger quickly. 

Thomas Wilder groaned, the bullet brushing along his side rather than actually hitting his stomach. I threw a punch but overshot, stumbling past the man and to my knees. I was disoriented, pain radiating from my arm, my vision blurred from the dissonance of trying to connect everything together and push back the memories of what use to be.

A chain made its way around my throat, and I attempted not to panic, sticking my hand inbetween the chain and my throat, Wilder pulled tight.

"You know I dreamed about you." His voice was just the same as it was all those years ago, scratching at my ears, he loosened his grip ever so slightly, wanting to draw out my death, make it more enjoyable for himself. "I didn't think you'd survived."

I didn't have any words to reply with, my hand slipped from in between the chain and he pulled it taunt, not giving me the chance to breath before he continued to pull it tighter.

"You're so handsome now." I felt the brush of his mouth on my ear and almost started to cry, I kept my cool, trying to place my hand on the ankle holster Jameson insisted I carry only recently. "You found yourself someone knew, he's pretty too. I could set his soul free just as easily as yours."

My vision started to turn black, and I tried everything I could to pull free, his hands working the chain tighter around my neck every other second.

The bang of a gun startled both Wilder and I, his hands slipping from the chain, I crashed to the ground hard, my chest smashing into it in such a way that didn't help with my breathing. I could hear the grunts of two men fighting, and when I was able to turn myself over, there was Danny in nearly the same position I was in previously.

I struggled to move, my head heavy and my left arm almost immobile at my side. I pulled the gun from my holster, struggling to position it properly in my right hand, my left would not comply.

I aimed, taking a deep breath, before pulling the trigger. The bullet hit Wilder in the shoulder, and he yelled in anger, dropping the hold that he had on Danny to instead turn to me.

I didn't notice the gun at his feet, and before I could react, he had pulled the trigger.

The pain was almost immediate, my breath came out in shudders. I looked down, blood pooling from my stomach. "You bastard." I gasped out, he'd picked the spot that would make me suffer the most. My hands began to shake, and I pressed them both to the wound.

Wilder stepped towards me, pushing me backwards ever so slightly and kneeling beside me. I was flat on my back, unable to stop the blood that continued to pool. I felt cold.

"If only I could watch you die pretty boy." Wilder said it with a grin, the same hollow look in his eyes. He gripped me by the hair, lifting my head and pressing a hand into my stomach. I yelped in pain, trying to pull free unsuccessfully. The noise made the grin grow. "If you survive this, I'll be back for you."

He dropped my head, and I felt myself start to fade.

Wilder left the room, leaving Danny and I on the ground.

Danny appeared in front of my face, his mouth moving in such a way that I wished I could hear.

My vision faded to black.

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