Revenge

The fire escape

I think I finally found a way to forgive myself

From mistakes I made in my past

I think that's the first step, right?

You agree?

I sit perched on the fire escape outside of Kate's window, debating whether or not I should jimmy the lock and slip inside. She's home, I know she is. If every light in her apartment being on wasn't a dead giveaway, the sound of her TV definitely does. My fingers stretch for the window pane, preparing to open it, but I hesitate once more.

To open the window is to open up something I've been taught is a dangerous liability, something that will only hurt you in the end. Personal relationships. I know the Red Room is a truly evil place, filled with lies, corruption, terrible brainwashing thoughts, and countless other horrific nightmares that could make the strongest crumble, but so far relationships have been one thing they are right about.

Let's start with my parents, well the only parents I knew. They pretended to love me for a mission. Strike one. Or what about my sister? Her love wasn't fake like my parents, yet still fate felt the need to take her from me. Strike two. And what about Oksana, the closest thing I had to a friend on my team? Nope, I was forced to kill her even though she saved me. As if a monster like me deserved to be saved. Strike three. If this was an American baseball game, I'd be out.

But this isn't baseball, the Red Room's gone, and maybe, just maybe, fourth times a charm. Before I can think about the consequences any further, I snake my fingers under the sill, and in a few expert moves, I unlatch the glass and slide it up with a small squeak. The cold New York air mingles with the rush of heat from Kate's apartment, and I nimbly step inside, closing the window behind me.

There's no sign of Kate in her living room/kitchen, despite the TV playing the local news, and the fresh box of pizza on her table, exactly two slices missing. Why isn't she out here eating? A cute golden retriever prances out of the hallway, freezing when he sees me. A low growl forms in his throat, and I sink to one knee, extending my hand.

"It's okay" I whisper, using my gentlest tone.

He cautiously approaches and sniffs my outstretched hand, licking my fingers. Instantly my heart warms as I scratch behind his ears, reminded of my own akita, Fanny. I smile at the wagging form, standing up from my crouched position to pat his head.