Do You Fear The Reaper?

t w o

Pick up, pick up, pick up.

RJ's thoughts ran a mile a minute as he sped through the highway, the speedometer shaking uncontrollably close to the 120 mark. The phone he held to his ear kept replaying the message on the other end, her voice now reduced to a pre-recorded message that told him to leave something after the damn beep.

Special Agent Richard Faulkerson Jr. has dealt with stressful situations before. Hell, his entire existence was a dangerous situation, but nothing compared to the weight he suddenly felt on his shoulders, nor the fear that wrapped and slowly took the breath out of his lungs.

The familiar beep rang in his ear and he gritted his teeth as the frustration kept building inside of him.

"Damn it!" He screamed as he stepped on the gas pedal further, his eyes darting between the cars in front of him and his phone. "Come on, Meng," he muttered under his breath.

Drawing in a sharp breath, RJ felt strands of spit hit the back of his throat as he tried to gather his bearings, waiting for the beep.

"Mendoza! Meng, pick up your damn phone!" He yelled loudly, as if she'd hear. He hoped she did. "What he sent, it wasn't," he breathed. "He said that he loved the same woman thrice! I should've — He's coming!"

His voice shook as he jerked the steering wheel sharply to the right, exiting off the ramp and towards the city. He clutched onto his phone tighter.

"Meng!" Honks from cars blared behind him as he swerved by them. "Damn it!" RJ screamed as the phone call dropped and hit the phone against the steering wheel violently.

Visions of Maine being kidnapped from her house flashed before him, his heart beating so fast that every honk, every screech, and every swear aimed at him fell on deaf ears. She warned him that this might happen, that Beau Loomis would only leave a trail of breadcrumbs for them to find because he wanted to be found. She told him to be careful, to wait, to figure out his endgame before coming in for the kill.

But RJ's frustrations on catching The infallible Reaper got the best of him, and he refused to believe that their biggest lead was all because he wanted to play a damn game.

His stomach twisted and turned as he whipped past shops and buildings that lined up the streets, lampposts blurring, the engine of his car groaning. He was so close, he thought, but still so far away from her house.

He reached for his radio and called in to see if any of the back-ups have arrived to Maine's house. If they could just get there in time, they might be able to save her from the horrendous things they knew The Reaper would do.

"We're 15 minutes out, boss," one of them replied.

"Y'all better fucking hurry up because if she's not there, that is all on you!" RJ said, insisting that they do everything they can to get to Maine's house in time.

Images of Maine begging for her life came to mind and he instantly felt sick. They had been partners for years, best friends that came out of the necessities of their jobs, with each one coming through to pick the other up whenever the other fell. She is his family as he is hers, and to know that it was his lapse in judgment that would ultimately kill her sent his mind reeling; he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He should've listened. He should've known.

"Fuck!" His heart raced so fast he swore it was going to burst in his chest.

He barely slowed down as he made that last turn, his tires squealing against the pavement as the familiar house came into view. Bright red and blue lights illuminated the night sky, sirens blaring louder and louder the nearer they got to the house.

RJ hurried and immediately put on his bulletproof vest, ignoring all protocols for back-up as he jumped out of his SUV with a pistol already in hand.

Fuck being inconspicuous. Fuck being discreet. Fuck setting a perimeter and walking to the back of the house for an entrance.

The cavalry arrived and all RJ could think of was how they should hurry up and catch up.

His loud calls could be heard all throughout the neighborhood but he didn't care who he was disturbing, he had to see Maine. "Mendoza!" He yelled once again as he kicked the door open and pointed his gun straight down the hallway of her house.

RJ rushed towards the living room and then to her kitchen, knocking over loose cords and furniture. His head spun as it turned, left and right, left and right, inside bathrooms and closets before heading up the stairs.

There were three rooms altogether, two doors on his left and one on his right, and he wasted no time pushing through every single one. His eyes welled up with tears, his heart sinking with every empty room until there was only one left.

Wiping the tear that fell down his cheek, he reached for his phone and quickly dialed Maine's number, his gun still on the ready just in case The Reaper suddenly comes out. His hand shook as it cradled his cellphone, his breaths held as he waited for the familiar ring to echo throughout the house.

He stood still, waiting.

Riiiiiiiiing!

RJ rushed towards the last door on the right and pushed it open with his shoulder, pieces of wood shattering and falling. His phone, falling and shattering.

"No," he said lowly as he dropped down on the floor, his eyes taking in the sight of Maine's roommate hanging from the ceiling.

Blue. Her face was blue. Her tongue, was blue. Her entire body was blue.

Red. Gushing out of her wrists and used on the walls for The Reaper to write: ALMOST