I wake up to the television flashing a news story about four dead cops, three dead bodies in a house that was currently burning to the ground and a dozen witness accounts of four people on the scene "waging war on the neighborhood". The remote control was taped to one hand and my morphine drip taped to the other. I quickly tap the drip three times, feeling an instant gratifying rush of narcotics in my veins.
I flip the television on with a quick flick of the wrist. Four dead officers, I used to be an officer. That could have been me on the side of the road, executed by a secret government agency out killing people to protect the political scheme of things.
The randomness and spontaneity of the colors and pictures began to relax me instead of my normal anxiety overload. I zoned out, out from the television and the news. I zoned deep into my brain trying to understand why my life has boiled down to killing people for doing idiotic things.
Why the hell do we need special agents, aka serial killers, to go out and destroy an entire house and kill innocent people? Normal men can do this without the help of monsters; normal men are capable of monstrous acts. What makes us so special down here?
They will never know who we are or why we did what we did but they will feel our destruction, our masochistic ways. We are officially death dealers to anyone that jeopardizes the agenda of this Country. I understand we are needed but I still need to get out of this bed and get The Boss tied down to a reason for our use of serial killers.
As I'm struggling to get ninety degrees the door opens. In walks Ms. Holly, a face I could live with right now. She turns and sees me struggling, her face drops and she runs to my side to help me achieve my goal of sitting up in bed.
"Thank you." I say in between a heightened breathing rate.
Holly smiles, leans in and kisses me, "You've seen the news I guess?"
I frown and slowly nod my head, "Yep, I saw all the good work we did last night."
Holly sits on the bed with me, "Listen, things didn't really work out as planned last night but that's how it goes sometimes. We're in the clear and the four cops' families will be well compensated."
I angrily growl, "How do you compensate a five year old that just lost its father? How do you compensate a dying mother who has to bury her son? The only proper compensation is death, their minds would be at ease and the suffering would be stopped. So, our division went out and killed all four of the officer's families and all that?"
"Gregg, enough! We compensate in the traditional way. Executing an entire family is not the answer, smart ass. This is the job honey. This is what we do. I'm sorry you are stuck here with us, but this is what we do." Holly responded very ferociously.
"I am so happy that I met you and that we are what we are. I truly am. I just need to gather myself after this huge debacle. Killing clean cops just to preserve our presence…I used to be one of those cops. That could have been me." I sob a little because I'm finally realizing how insignificant my life has become.
Holly wraps her smooth arms around me, "I love you Gregg. I need you in my life but I need you in this job, not only to help but to take charge and lead us. You can do this."
"I love you too, Holly. I'm going to try to get past this point but it's going to be rough." In my mind, I'm thinking of going to see Jeffrey and talk to him about how he felt. Maybe a psychopath could ease my mind with his fucked up thoughts.
Holly leans down, comes back up and before I realize it, she had administered a shot to me, "Just rest Gregg. When you wake up, we'll talk some more."
"But, but…" And I'm out.