Jack of My Heart

Blackjack

"You know, I was worried that I got the wrong address. How awkward would it be if I knocked on the wrong door? The drama would be completely ruined. Can I come in? Actually, no, we won't be here long enough for that," He rambles, stepping closer to me.
"Y-You-" I stutter, taking a step back and falling on my back, then attempting to scuttle away.
"Oh, don't be like that. It's been years! I thought you were dead!" He laughs heartily. "You're still so young."
"Get out! I—The police are monitoring the building," I lie, finding my way to my feet. He tuts at me, taking a few steps into my apartment.
"I thought I made my position on lying very clear. If the police were monitoring the building, the pizza man wouldn't be dead in a supply closet right now," He smiles at me, hands held behind his back. My mouth falls open as his words find their marks. Someone is dead because of me. Another person is dead because of me.
"No," I say softly, raising an arm as if to protect myself from his words.
"Oh, yes. But we aren't done yet, no we aren't nearly close to done." Edwin slams his foot hard on the rug beneath our feet and pulls it toward himself. This catches me off balance and I crash to the floor, giving him enough time to sweep over to me, slapping a pair of handcuffs on my wrists and hooking a finger under the chain. He laughs at my terror, hoisting me up and attempting to throw me over his shoulder. I regain my senses and fight back, twisting against his rock-hard grip, but he yanks down on the chain, pulling me close to him and thrusting my neck right into his talon-like grip.
"Get... off!" I choke out, pushing against him. He slowly lifts me off my feet, looking me up and down with a smug smirk as I try desperately to find my footing, my toes just brushing the floor.
"I don't think I will. You fought better when you were five." He cocks his head to the right, then slams me to the ground, knocking me out as soon as I hit the floor.

My eyes flutter open and I reach for my pounding head, but find I can't even lay a finger on it when I hear the clatter of chains. The space I'm in, wherever it is, is dark and cramped, and I can feel my breath hitting me in the face each time I let out a shallow exhale. I pull on the large chain, tugging myself further into the darkness. Or is that a wall? I don't really know. The space I'm in suddenly jumps and I hit my head on the abnormally low ceiling.
I'm in the trunk of a car.
I can hear muffled voices coming from one side and white noise coming from the other. Cautiously, I roll over to the side where I can hear talking and I slowly press my ear against the flimsy plastic.
"What do you mean you're out of the business? Oh, don't tell me you grew a conscience... No, I—no, I know you only killed bad people, but what really constitutes good and bad? Hm? Yeah, alright, I'll spare you the moral debate. But tell me, the people, the witnesses I had you kill, were those bad people?" Edwin's voice demands, having a very fast paced conversation on the phone. I can't hear what the other person is saying, or even sounds like, just a mumble.
"Right, that is when you got out of the business. Is that why? Oh, I've always wondered that. I wondered if it was because they were innocents or if it was because you missed one," Edwin's voice is cold, his accusation clear. He's talking to the Exterminator.
"No, you didn't miss—okay, that's what I thought. I could've used you a couple of times though, after that one woman, that 'Madison' girl. Just had a witness I had to take care of myself... Well, here's your chance for redemption! Just get rid of this one pesky nuisance for me, and all will be forgiven. I'll send you the location." There's a long silence after this statement, then soft humming. I let myself slide to the other side of the car where the taillights are. Fumbling in the dark I manage to grab hold of one edge of the carpet and peel it off. Before I can even attempt to punch out the tail light, the car rumbles and shuts off. We're stopped. A car door slams and a few seconds later the trunk opens, the light from outside not much brighter than the trunk.
As soon as I see a form I pivot on my back until I can shoot my legs up, nailing the figure in the chest. I thrash about like a wild animal, teeth bared as I kick at the man who slowly pulls himself up from the ground.
"This isn't as cute as when you were a kid. Now it's just annoying," He grumbles, slapping at my flailing legs. He maneuvers himself between them and pulls me up by the collar, flicking a knife out of his pocket. My struggling slows down as terror replaces fight.
"Now that," He gestures at my face with the knife, "that's still cute, just in a different way."
I pull against him, hands stuck together in front of me, a chain linked to the handcuffs, keeping me stuck in the trunk. He tuts at me and shakes me until it feels like my brain is rattling around my skull. I groan as I squeeze my eyes shut, a wave of nausea washing over me. He tosses me to the ground, unlocking one end of the chain from the car and dragging me further into the darkness, locking it up somewhere else.
     "You see, after the incident all those years ago, I took over this building, kind of made it my headquarters. I have to admit I was a little sad when I had to have you killed, you were so resilient, so clever, I... I never, in all the times I pictured what you would look like all grown up, I never pictured you like this. But, you really are all grown up." Edwin straddles a chair in front of me, watching me squirm under the chains.
     "Mr. Barnes, you don't have to do this," I shudder, trying to throw the heavy chain away from my body.
     "Please, call me Ace. I'm really glad to see you're alive, you know. I didn't think I would be, but I am. I should've just taken you with me, taught you how to do what I do. We would've made an unstoppable team." He stands up, towering over me. I freeze up, thinking he's going to hurt me for moving too much, causing too much noise, but he just lifts the heavy grouping of chains off my face and chest, allowing me to sit up before plopping them in my lap.
     "W-Why do you say that?" I stammer, trying to find a way out. Everything is too dark to see, and my vision is swimming anyway due to the constant jostling and shock.
     "You still don't see it, huh? You and me, we're nearly the same person, I'm just better." He shrugs, sitting back down.
     "I'm nothing like you," I spit, wiggling my way out from under the chains.
     "Oh, don't be so dramatic. Listen, it's either you be my little murder-sidekick or I kill you, like I should've done years ago. What'll it be, Jackrabbit?" He leans forward, propping his chin on his hands. I stand up, rushing at the murderer to knock him over. I'm almost to him when the chain snaps and I'm yanked backward, falling to the ground. Edwin looks down at me with amusement, steps echoing on the cold concrete floor. He kicks me hard in the stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs.
     "Let me go," I wheeze, clawing at the ground.
     "No way, I'm having way too much fun, and until you either give me an answer or the Exterminator gets here, I'll continue to have fun," He grins and nails me in the chest, grabs my collar roughly and pulls me to my feet. He throws a punch to my face before I can even raise my hands to defend myself. Not like it would do much good anyway, seeing as they're shackled together. He hits me again and again until my lip is busted open, my eye is swollen closed, and blood flows freely from my nose. It's as though he can't stop himself, even if he wanted to. Though, I don't think he wants to. Finally he has to stop to catch his breath and he pushes me to the ground, taking a step back to sit across from me.
     "It doesn't have to be painful, you're doing this to yourself," He says nonchalantly, one hand resting on his crossed legs.
     "I'm not going to let you hurt any more people. I will stop you," I growl, pulling myself up from the ground, wrapping my hands around the chain attached to the wall and yanking on it as hard as I can.
     "Oh, stop that. You'll accomplish nothing but wearing yourself out. I don't really want you to be worn out, but I suppose it'll make the rest of my plans easier," He talks mainly to himself, but he still has his sharp eyes on me.
     "Why them?" I keep my hands on the chain, but stop tugging on it. He frowns and I rephrase my question. "Why did you kill them? What dictated who was a face card and who was an ace? Why do you like the aces more?"
I ask a bunch of questions to occupy him while I fiddle with the cuffs. He lets out a sharp exhale and throws his head back.
     "Those are some tough questions. Are you sure you want the answers?" He leans forward, elbows propped on his knees. I nod vigorously, blood dripping from my chin. His eyes close for a second as a smile flits across his lips, but just as quickly he gets down to business.
     "Love is... a fickle thing. Useless, a waste of time. All it does is hurt people, and I help the victims."
     "The... victims? Love isn't murder-" I start with a frown.
     "It might as well be. Have you ever been in love, Jack?" He gets up again, moving out of my sight.
     "I... yes. I am." I apply pressure to the base of the handcuffs, trying to pop them open. They seem to be cheaper than the ones in the police station, and I think I might be able to get out of them.
     "Ha! Then you've fallen for the trap! You see, love isn't real, it's just a temporary pain that doesn't serve you in life or death. The perpetrators of this crime, the ones that cause the pain are the Kings and Queens. The Aces are those who try to resist it and end up hurt. I'm their way out... May I ask who it is? I probably won't know them, and I swear I won't hurt them." His eyes gleam mischievously. I hesitate, but remember his policy on lying.
     "I don't—no. You may not," I don't take any chances. I couldn't bear it if Vincent got hurt because of me. The man I'm talking to is a psychopath, a murderer. I can't let Vincent get anywhere near me.
     "Hm, that's too bad." He gets up, grabs some long metal bar from the ground and beats me savagely with it. I can barely breathe when he's done, and I know at least three of my ribs are broken. I can feel the bruises on my torso forming already, some of the skin broken and leaking blood. I cough violently, blood spraying from my lips and speckling on the concrete.
     "So, now you have four options. Tell me your lover's name, agree to join me, wait for the Exterminator, or die. Your choice really, but I'm not that patient. I might hurt you a bit before the Exterminator gets here. Makes it easier for him," He shrugs, kicking me in the shoulder. I fall but pull myself up, showing I will not be conquered.
     "Oh, I forgot how fun this is with you. You know, most of my guests would be down right now, rolling on the ground in pain, but not you, huh?" He laughs, settling into his chair. I shake my head and adjust my glasses.
     "You killed my parents. I won't let you kill me, and I won't let you escape justice," I growl, looking him dead in the eyes.
     "That was the Exterminator. I don't know how he could have let you out of his grasp," He seems annoyed again, flipping his wrist as though he's talking about an intern forgetting to bring him coffee.
     "I did have a steel crossrail sticking out of my gut. I probably looked pretty dead." I run at him again, just falling short and landing at his feet. He sighs and looks down at me, lips pursed in disappointment.
     "From what I remember you're a quick learner. I guess I was wrong," He kicks me in the face, then uses his toe to roll me back over and plant a heavy foot on my chest.
     "So does," I wheeze, "does that mean you don't want me to commit murder with you?"
He pauses for a minute then erupts into a deep, hearty laugh.
     "Ah, I knew you were as clever as I thought. Oh, what a team we could make. With our quick-wit combined we could kill someone with our sarcasm alone!" He exclaims falling back into the rickety wooden chair. I quickly snatch one of the legs and yank his seat out from under him, sending him tumbling to the ground.
     "Oh, you're going to regret that, boy," He snarls, standing up slowly and dusting off his expensive suit, now splattered with my blood. Before I can scuttle away he delivers a solid backhand and pulls me to my feet by the throat. His sharp eyes twitch as he tries to glare at me, but he quickly becomes distracted, his eyes trailing down from my face and landing on the exposed midriff the cropped button up is showing. The scar from the cross rail is showing and so is the bottom of the scar he gave me. He drops one hand from my throat, backing me to a wall to hold me in place while he raises my shirt to inspect his handiwork. I kick at him wildly, pushing against his grip, but he just pulls me forward and slams me back into the wall, knocking the air out of me.
     "Don't struggle, it'll only make it worse for you. I've always wondered... well, I suppose you did say you were impaled. I've always wondered if you were just let go, or if you did get hurt. I... I guess these answer my question," His fingers trace my scars, his eyes focused on the one he made. I gulp, frozen in fear and confusion, then start kicking again, hitting him in the face which makes him drop me. We both crash to the ground, groaning in pain before getting to our feet and facing off against each other. He spits blood on the ground, licks his lips, then lunges at me, tackling me to the ground as he rips the thin shirt off of me and ties it around my neck to control me. I pull against him, but each pull cuts off a little more air, so I stop struggling, eyes wide with panic.
     "Good, good. You are a quick learner. But unfortunately for me, you're a survivor, so it will take much more to break you than I thought. You have no family, so I can't exploit that weakness, I don't know who you're in love with, so I can't hurt them, and-" He stops as his eyes light up. "But I do remember the reason we met, the reason you have this."
He pokes the scar, sore from a new bruise. I look from his finger to his enthusiastic, bright eyes.
     "W-What's that?" I try to act tough, puffing my chest out.
     "You want to help people. Even strangers. I'll just do my work here, let you see what you'll be getting yourself into if you take my offer." He stands up abruptly, leaving the building and me, frightened and confused. When he leaves, I blink a few times, then check my pockets frantically for my phone. Unfortunately, he's more skilled in the art of abduction and I can't find it. I tear at the cloth wrapped around my neck, pulling at it until it drops at my feet, too mangled to function as a shirt again. Oh, Vincent will be furious. At least I gave him his sweater vest back. My fingers close around something in my pocket and I beam with hope.
     The paperclip I found earlier is still resting in my pocket. Unluckily for me, I had completely forgotten about it until now, but I have it and I won't let it go to waste. I put the paperclip in my mouth and nibble on the end until I can feel a dent with my tongue. Then, I unfold one side to make a makeshift key, placing the dented end into the keyhole, pressing down on it with the base of my thumb until I hear a soft click. I move on to the other hand, but the rumbling thrum of an engine and the crackle of gravel stop my heart. I move to the nearest exit, peering out into the night. The headlights blind me at first, but once they shut off I'm able to see the man behind the wheel.
     "Vincent!" I cry, stumbling out of the building, probably looking really pathetic covered in blood and abrasions. Vincent's eyes go wide and he rips open his car door, running to me and taking me in his arms.
     "Jack, what happened? I thought you were with Archer, I thought you were safe!" His hand runs through one side of my hair while his other hand lightly applies pressure to an open wound. I reach up to cup his face with my hands, completely forgetting about my still shackled arm until the unlocked manacle bumps along his face. He looks down at it, then me, pulling me closer.
     "He... he killed someone, Vince. To get to me. Some innocent guy is dead, and it's my fault, and I don't even know his name," I hang my head in shame. Then, sharp as a whip, I raise it. "You have to get outta here! He'll kill you too! How did you even find me? No, I don't care, just go!"
     "Archer found your phone and called me with it, telling me that he was in the bathroom one minute and you were gone the next. I came to find you as soon as I could. It's not your fault that he's dead. The man who took you is a murderer. It's his fault," Vincent reassures me.
     "Aww, isn't this... heartwarming. Do you do this to all your victims? Are you apologizing?" Edwin's voice sounds behind us. I spin around, still held in Vincent's arms, and back up, beginning to shake. Edwin is gripping someone by the hair. By the looks of it, they're unconscious, but so far unharmed. I try to rush to their side but Vincent seems to have seen it coming and strengthens his grip on me, holding me in place. I squirm against him but get nowhere, my arms practically strapped to my sides.
     "Let them go, get away from them!" I bark, thrashing about. Edwin looks from me to the person he's holding and laughs.
     "Who, them? I'm not bothering them. I don't think they could be bothered by much of anything right now," He gently shakes the person. A soft groan sounds from the limp form, and Edwin's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, or maybe they could."
     "Don't hurt them, hurt me instead!" I cry, trying to tug myself forward.
     "No, Jack!" Vincent exclaims, pulling me back. He spins me around to face him and bends down, leveling his eyes with mine. "I can't lose you, Jack. You promised me-"
      "Oh—oh my. You know each other, you... care for each other. Oh, this is great! Why didn't you mention this when I was trying to decide how to exploit you?" Edwin turns his attention to me, a friendly smile on his face.
     "We have to go, Jack," Vincent grabs my hand and begins tugging me to the car, but I dig my heels into the ground.
     "No way! We have to stop him, we have to save that person!" I pull free from his grip, but find myself tumbling into the dirt. Another hand quickly snatches me up by my hair, holding me in place, on my knees, away from Vincent. Edwin drops the other hostage and drags me back into the building, signaling to Vincent over his shoulder as he ignores my hurled obscenities and insults.
     "Do pick up the other one, I've got to focus on this one. Much too tricky," He seems annoyed. Much to my surprise I can see Vincent following us inside, the other kidnapee thrown over his shoulder.
     "Vincent, what are you doing? Take them to the car and get outta here! Please, go!" I yell around Edwin, pushing against him as he tries to chain me up. He doesn't even acknowledge me as he drops the person on the wall across from me.
     "No, stop! What are you doing? Get them—get off of me! Vincent, run!" I shout, twisting and pulling and snarling at my captor.
     "Let him go, Ace. I'll help you with this one if you just let Jack go." Vincent builds himself up as he faces down Edwin, towering over him.
     "Oh no, this is the little nuisance I was telling you about. No, I don't need help with them, they're an easy target. I doubt they'll even wake up before I've finished my work on them. Though, it would be much more fun if they did, then the torture would really work," Edwin's smile is bright as he clicks his fingers together. I open my mouth to make a snarky comment, but as though Edwin can sense it by now, he flicks out a knife just as I bob my head up, not even having to move to slice my Adam's apple. The cut isn't deep, but it is a warning received. I shrink back with a gulp as blood trickles down onto my bare chest. Vincent's nostrils flare as his jaw clenches and he turns his furious stare from me to Edwin.
     "Let him go, Barnes. I won't ask again." Vincent clenches and unclenches his fists.
     "Just call the police!" I pipe up, head still feeling foggy. Vincent's gaze snaps to me and his forehead creases with either pity or concern, I can't really make it out. Before I can say a word though, Edwin whirls around and drives his knee into my chin, sending me tumbling to the ground. While I'm down he chains me up, finds my paperclip, and stabs me in the gut with it.
     "There we go, now I can really focus. Come on, up, up. On your knees." Edwin nudges me half-heartedly with his foot. I spit at him and the nudge becomes a swift kick to the ribs. I cough, but get back up. I have to be strong, especially now that Vincent's here. If I'm being honest, I haven't really taken in anything that has been said between the two men for the last five minutes. I've been too busy trying to plan an escape. The handcuffs make things a little harder, but I do have the paperclip easily accessible since it's, y'know, in my stomach.
     "Don't antagonize him, Jack. Please," Vincent begs, voice soft when he talks to me compared to the cold bite he directs toward Edwin.
     "You're right. He doesn't deserve a proper fight," I grin at him with bloody teeth. Vincent's frown grows deeper and he makes a move toward me.
     "Oh, no, no! You're not getting anywhere near him. Unless of course, it's to do your job. The one I have the money in the car for. You do still have monetary values, correct? Or has this one changed everything? Made you see the error in your ways," He says the last bit sarcastically, waving the knife around. I slowly pull the paperclip out of my gut while he's distracted and begin the lockpicking process again. Vincent, unfortunately, glances to me, eyes widening when he sees what I'm doing. Edwin follows his eyes and huffs impatiently, ripping the pick from my hands and gripping one section of the large heavy chain, wrapping it around my neck and forcing me to my knees.
     "Your resilience is more of a headache than I remember. I swear, I bet if I shot you twenty–seven times you would get up and say I had bad aim. Oh, we could try it!" Edwin grins and pulls a gun out of a holster on his leg.
     "Ace," Vincent calls his attention. Before he can continue, the other member of our wild and problematic party lets out a groan, bringing all of our gazes to them. Oh no. I start snapping at Edwin, calling him names, trying to get him to look at me instead of them, but none of it works. He crouches down in front of them, sweeping a hand under their chin as he looks them over.
     "Wha—Where am I? Who're-" The ace murmurs, their speech slurred as they look up at Edwin.
     "Your saving grace. I'm having a little bit of a job shadowing moment here, and I'm so glad you could help out. Thank you," He smiles at them.
     "Mr. Barnes, stop, please. I told you, if you let them go, you can hurt me, you can do whatever, I don't care. Please, just let them go," I plead, pulling forward as much as I can. Edwin's eyes are closed and he sighs.
     "As much as I love to hear you beg, I'm going to do whatever I want to you anyways. Stop scaring our guest," He commands, but Vincent steps toward him.
     "No, you will not."
     "Oh, don't tell me I have to chain you up, too," Edwin groans, then his expression glows as he looks from me to Vincent. "Actually, that's a great idea. You not only lied to me twice, but failed to complete a job and got money for it anyway. I think I deserve a little recompense for that."
     "You can't hurt him, I won't let you! Get away from him!" I bark, straining against the chains I'm weighted down with.
     "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to hurt him. Just put him in a similar situation as you," Edwin explains, though his answer is quite cryptic.
     "Like I'll let that happen," Vincent scoffs, crossing his arms.
     "No, I know you won't." Edwin nods, then in a flash thrusts a white cloth against Vincent's mouth. I call out for him, and he reaches a hand toward me, but his eyes flutter closed as he crashes to the ground. The other hostage just watches all of this happen, blinking a few times. Are they... drugged?
     "What did he do to you?" I frown, glancing at them while I watch Edwin prop Vincent against a column across from me.
     "What'd he do to you?" They ask, gesturing to all the blood and scuffs.
     "Nothing of consequence, yet. Listen, you need to get out of here, you need to-" I start, leaning forward against my bindings.
     "Alright! He should wake up in a few minutes, but not everyone's as strong as you, Jack. I mean really, I knock you unconscious, chloroform you, throw you in the back of my trunk, and as soon as I open the door, you come out swinging! It's incredible!" He spreads his arms wide. I flinch away, nearly falling back as he sweeps down to crouch beside me. "You're incredible. I heard about your little gift from a friend in the morgue. I also heard you were given a lethal dosage of abrecentol and survived. I know what you are, even if you don't, and I hate to have to kill you."
     "Tell me," He continues, "how will they die?"
I follow his finger to the now trembling captive, whatever he gave them finally wearing off.
     "It doesn't work like that, I can't-" I begin, shaking my head.
     "Yes, it does, Jack. See? I can help you, I can train you. You need me. Just say yes, and all this will go away," He gestures to the chains.
     "Will you let them live?" I look at the hostage. Edwin follows my gaze, then turns back to me, tutting softly.
     "You know I won't, Jack. I'll need to drill that out of you, that-"
     "Actual human empathy?" I cut him off, an eyebrow raised. He laughs and looks at the captive. He looks back to me, then without a word chloroforms them and drags them out of sight, into what would've been an office had production continued.
     "They'll be out for about twenty minutes, maybe an hour or two. They don't seem to be as vivacious as you and Vincent." He enters the main area again. Vincent starts to wake up, a grunt rolling from his lips as he frowns. "Perfect timing."
     "Vincent, dear, it'll be okay. Whatever he asks you to do, just do it." I say, trying to wriggle my way out of the chains and to Vincent.
     "Oh, don't worry, he will," Edwin's smile is sickening, poison and ill-intent dripping from his curled lips and abnormally white teeth.
     "Jack," Vincent murmurs, pressing against the concrete as he stands himself up. Edwin doesn't seem to be at all nervous about this and thrusts a large knife into his hands.
     "Yes... Jack. Hurt him," Edwin winks at me, pats Vincent on the arm and stands back.
     "Really? That's your big plan? It's gonna take more than that to-" I'm cut off by a backhand of metal crashing into my skull. Blood begins to flow from a slice at the top of my forehead, matting my hair with the red fluid. I stop short, mouth agape as I watch the blood splash onto the ground. Vincent's hand shakes, but he still holds the knife, dripping with my blood. I turn my look of fear to him, creeping back. The car I saw him pull up in flashes in front of my eyes. It wasn't his Porsche. It was a Monte Carlo.
     "I'm sorry! Oh God, Jack, I'm so sorry! I don't—I can't—I don't know what happened! I can't control myself!" Vincent exclaims, pulling me from my thoughts. "You're bleeding because of me. Oh, God. I promised you! I said never again."
     "Oh, come on. I said 'hurt him' and that was the best you could come up with? Really?" Edwin looks unamused as he comes up behind Vincent, wraps his hands around Vincent's, and plunges the knife into my stomach, about where the paperclip was. Blood fountains from the new wound, spraying on Vincent's clothes and face. He looks horrified, staring at his hands, which are covered in my blood, then at me.
     "I'm s-sorry," I stammer out, blood starting to drip from my mouth.
     "There we go. For future reference, that is what I mean when I say hurt him." Edwin stands up, brushing off his hands. "Stupid boy got blood on my suit."
     He pretends to care, but really I can see him smiling as he looks down at the mess on his Italian-silk suit.
     "This—This is what happened to the Kings and Queens. You made them kill each other, didn't you? To prove your theory of how love is murder. He really can't control himself right now, can he?" I look at Vincent who is staring at his hands like they're slimy, seething eels.
     "You really are a clever boy. No, he can't. My own little mixture of sodium thiopental and a few other chemicals like oxytocin and dopamine. He has cognitive thought, so he knows what he's doing to you, but he can't control his movement. He's the puppet and I'm his puppeteer," Edwin explains with a giddy grin.
     "Why are you doing this? Love isn't what's killing them. If you told him to love me, I wouldn't have a knife sticking out of my stomach," I argue. Edwin crouches down behind Vincent and looks at me thoughtfully.
     "I can see how you think that. Oxytocin is created when someone is in love. That is in my little 'potion.' Look at his face. See how mortified he is? He can't even bear to look at you. Love won't kill you, it'll kill him." Edwin smiles.
      "No. I won't let that happen. Vincent, listen to me. It's okay, I understand. You can't stop it, none of this is your fault-"
      "Push it in deeper," Edwin orders. Vincent complies and I can't help but yelp in surprise and pain. He starts to cry as he does so, his tears growing in volume when I cry out.
     "I'm sorry, Vincent, I didn't mean to do that. It really isn't your fault." I attempt to wipe his tears away, but my arms are strapped to my sides.
     "I-I p-promised yo-you," Vincent sobs, hanging his head as his massive body shakes.
     "Vincent. Was that your car?" I keep my voice steady, but my heart breaks with each pitiful wail.
      "Y-e-yes," He answers, breathing shallowly, then continues, "I-m s-so sorry, J-Jack. I should've t-old y-you. He called m-me to ta-ake care of w-witnesses, saying they h-hurt someone. H-He told me they were b-bad people. I didn't know, Jack. I swear, I didn't know."
     "Y-You're the Exterminator?" I frown, falling back. The vehement wailing picks up to the point where he's weeping, unable to take a breath.
     "Yes," He cries, clenching his teeth.
     "You killed my parents?" I demand, crawling back toward him.
     "Yes," He looks like he was just stabbed in the gut.
     "How could you? How could you kill the two most innocent, most caring people in the world, and then have the audacity not to say that you were the one who orphaned me? How dare you look at my scars like I'm a monster, and not reflect on the person who put them there? How could you kiss me, hold me, let me sleep in your bed, knowing that you murdered my parents and left me to die? How could you kill my parents?" I scream, trying to throw myself at him, but only succeeding in lodging the knife further into me. He keeps crying but tries to answer.
     "I'm so s-orry," He wails.
     "I don't care! You killed my parents! You tried to kill me! You left me for dead!"
     "I didn't know, I would've never killed them if I knew the truth. I didn't know who Ace really was until after I did it," He cries, though his words are more clear. "I was young, and I was stupid, and I thought I would make a good vigilante, serving justice in a way the system couldn't, and he took advantage of that. I am so sorry, Jack, but everything I feel for you is real. When I said that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, I meant it. I came here because I thought he had a new victim he was going to kill, and I was going to get them and take them away, maybe actually do some good and kill Ace. When I found out it was you, I couldn't just leave you, I can't just leave you."
     "My parents are dead because of you. What are their names?" My nostrils flare.
     "Madeline and Barry Langdon. Their deaths have haunted me to this day. They made me become a lawyer, so that I could help people in a way that counts and I would never make a similar mistake again. I thought you were dead too. That's why I didn't save you."
     I'm taken aback by his answer. I never told him their names. He actually did care, and I can tell that what he's saying is the truth.
     "I can't forgive you." I clench my fists.
     "I know," He hangs his head.
     "Well... if I wasn't so big on the truth, I wouldn't be telling you this. I am not telling you this because I think you're sweet. I'm not. And I'm still gonna torture you when I'm done." Barnes seems to be telling himself this, but shakes out of it. "I actually was the one that killed your parents, little Jackrabbit. Vincent had nothing to do with it. He was just some uni student I found along the way. He stopped to report the accident and I grabbed him. I took him to the hospital you were treated at, took him into the basement area and then got you down there too. Said you had to have a surgery. You still had shrapnel in your stomach. I used a memory replacement therapy to implant the false memories in your head, dear Vincent, and pressed your memories of me way down into the depths of your mind. I'd hoped you'd never find them."
     I'm stunned to silence. I look at Vincent and he seems to be in the same predicament, going over all his choices and interactions since the crash.
     "You mean, I'm not the Exterminator?" He asks Edwin. Edwin just laughs, and shakes his head.
     "No! No one's the Exterminator, I made him up and planted him in both of your heads. It was tough to let someone else take credit for my work, so this is really a load-off. Yeah, Jack. I killed your parents," Edwin looks at me with a sickeningly sweet smile. I roar and lunge at him, spitting, twisting, and tearing my skin against the sharp chains.
     "I hate you! I hate you!" I scream over and over at the tall blonde murderer.
     "Yes, yes, I suppose I deserve that. Alright, that's enough. I said—Vincent: shut him up." Edwin massages his temples. Vincent just scoots forward and places a hand over my mouth.
     "I'm sorry, Jack," He looks less burdened, but still sorrowful. I try to respond but I can't say much. He removes his hand and I speak softly.
     "It's not your fault, Vincent. I'm so sorry I ever doubted you. I know what we have is real, I've felt it for myself. The way my pulse quickens around you, the way I can't find my breath when you look at me. I-"
     "That's a heart attack," Edwin cuts in, taking a break from inspecting his nails.
     "That's love, and no matter what you say, it's real." I glare at him, wishing I could snap the bindings and Edwin's neck.
     "Well, it still won't stop either of you from getting hurt!" He throws his hands up in exasperation.
     "Whether you want to admit it or not, you saved us. I would've never spoken to him again—probably because I would've killed him—if you hadn't have told us the truth. You did that because even you could sense our love. It's a powerful force," I contest with a smug smile.
     "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Vincent, strap him to this chair," Edwin pinches the bridge of his nose. I can tell Vincent is fighting against whatever he was drugged with as hard as he can, but he apologizes over and over as he chains me to the wooden chair.
      "It's okay. It's okay," I smile at him. I make a quick gesture with my head and he leans down to be eye level with me. I pull against the restraints and kiss him, then rub my cheek against his in as reassuring a manner I can muster. Vincent cups my cheek in his hand and runs his thumb along my cheekbone with a sad smile.
      "Stop that!" Edwin exclaims erratically. Vincent's arms snap back to his sides as he stands at attention. I hate seeing him like this, controlled by a monster and entirely at his mercy. He looks like he just wants to break down and I want to let him, to let him just cry in my arms and not have to worry about anything else.
      "Hey," I softly get Vincent's attention. "No matter what happens, I don't blame you."
      "I love you!" He cries, then freezes as he realizes what he said. Then, he repeats it over and over again with tears flowing down his cheeks, but there's a wide grin on his face. "I love you so much and I am so sorry! I'm so sorry. You don't have to say it back, I just-"
     "Strangle him," Edwin cocks his head toward me. I can see the fear and rage building up in Vincent's eyes as he tries desperately to stop his feet from moving toward me.
      "Whatever happens, it's okay. I'll still trust you and still lo-" I begin, smiling warmly up at the hunkering man, trying to mask the fear that makes my throat bob and my smile shake. Before I can finish, Vincent's hands wrap around my neck, pressing down on my windpipe and choking all noise out of my throat. I try as hard as I can not to show the pain I'm in, the pain he's caused, because I know it's not his fault. He whispers broken apologies to me, his eyes askance, as though he can't even bear to look at me. I can see Edwin's eyes flickering with excitement as he stares down at me, then a flash of fear and confusion when he sees a vein in Vincent's arm pop out as his grip tightens.
     "Alright, that's enough. Stop. I do still want him alive so that I can kill him myself," Edwin bounds over to us, patting Vincent's arms. As soon as he does, Vincent collapses to the ground in front of me, forehead resting on my knees. I gasp for breath, still unable to make any sounds. After a minute, I get my breathing back to normal and I gently nudge Vincent's head with my knee. He looks up at me weakly and I stare him down with a broad grin.
     "I love you too, Vincent." I don't even have to think about it. I give him a strong smile, but Edwin's groan cuts between the happy moment and I remember where I am: chained up in an abandoned building with a knife sticking out of my stomach.
     "Will you stop it already? I'm trying to torture you," Edwin plants his hands on his hips.
     "And it was a valiant attempt. Truly, I commend you, but our love is too strong for anything you've got to break it," I bite, a triumphant grin on my lips. Edwin snarls and looks at Vincent.
     "Kill him," Edwin snaps. For a moment, I'm terrified. I know Vincent could kill me in thirty–seven different ways, even if he isn't the Exterminator. Vincent doesn't budge. He squeezes my hand, smiles at me, and stands up, blocking me from Edwin.
     "No. You can't control me. You can't make me do another thing to Jack," Vincent's large hand curls into a tight fist.
     "Can I?" I pipe up, peering up at Vincent. He turns his head to look down at my hopeful face and wide eyes. "Untie me?"
     Vincent laughs and crouches down to release me from the iron prison. Edwin's grumbles are nearly drown out by our happy conversation about what we'll do for dinner until he grabs Vincent's shoulders and shoves him against a wall. They tussle for a few minutes with me unable to do anything but squirm and shout encouragement to Vincent. Edwin, unfortunately, wins the fight, chaining Vincent down to a column across from me.
     "There we go. I suppose if I can't have him kill you, I'll do it myself." Edwin unwraps the chains from the chair, but still keeps me locked up in them. He hoists me up from the chair, forcing me forward until I can barely keep my balance against his chest. His grin is wicked and I can hear my heartbeat in my head growing quicker by the minute as Edwin brings his lips closer and closer to mine. I try to twist my head away from him, but he grabs my chin roughly and forces our lips together, attacking me as he presses us together. I bite him and he yelps in pain, then shoves me away from him with a deafening slap to the ear. I fall to the ground on my stomach, the knife embedding itself deeper into my gut. Edwin kicks me hard, rolling me onto my back.
     "Stop it! Stop this! He's just a boy!" Vincent has been shouting at Edwin the whole time, practically foaming at the mouth as he fights against his bindings. I try to reassure him that I'm okay, but when Edwin pulls the blade from my stomach blood erupts from the wound like a geyser, then flows to the floor like Niagra Falls. Edwin rolls me back onto my stomach and straddles me, pushing my shoulder down to keep me still. I look over at Vincent, and let my eyes fall to the ground as I'm barely able to hold onto life by the skin of my teeth. Every bit of fight and energy is leaving me until I notice something silver and maroon shining in the little bit of light there is. The paperclip I had used to escape. Hurriedly, I look back up to Vincent, staring with more force until he finally meets my gaze. I then look down at the paperclip without moving my head, but still trying to indicate where to look. He just frowns, but after a few times of me looking from him to the paperclip, him to the paperclip, he finally gets it and starts trying to break free. I twist and pull to get out of Edwin's hold, but he brings the knife down, carving into my back. I scream in agony, then bite my tongue as I see Vincent's face blanche.
      "I-I'm okay, I'm-" I try to smile at Vincent, but the carving continues and I fall unconscious.