Post by James Nightingale on Feb 28, 2021 21:13:38 GMT -5
A beautiful blend of orange and red fills the sky over the Savannah River, as the sun begins to set over the old Georgia town. A black SUV crosses the Talmadge Memorial Bridge, speeding towards the port city with a purpose. It’s driver, Michael Brookes is taking directions from his MS-13 superior, Adrian whilst James Nightingale and his wife Alice sit in the backseats.
Nightingale sits to attention, his focus set straight ahead towards their upcoming destination, whereas Alice appears more distant. She leans against the door with her elbow, her head resting on her hand. A single tear runs down her right cheek, she closes her eyes.
King City, England 01/20/21 Alice sits on her bed, her packed bag at her feet. She opens the draw of her bedside table and retrieves an old jewellery box. After cradling the box in her hands for several moments, she runs her finger along the clasp, unhooking the lid and lifting it open. Alice begins moving several pieces of jewellery to the side of the box until she finds what she was looking for; a rose-gold locket. She removes the locket and closes the box, returning it to the draw. She rubs the front of the locket as she contemplates her life. She finally opens the locket, revealing a picture of her husband, James. Her eyes well up, a half-smile forms on her face as she strokes his picture. She closes the locket and kisses it before placing the accompanying necklace around her neck. Alice takes a deep breath and stands, she walks over to her bedroom mirror. She quickly corrects her smudged mascara, although it would soon be in vain. She pulls her hair into a messy bun with her daughters scrunchy, takes a final deep breath and turns to exit, picking her bag in the process. As she walks down the stairs, she is met at the bottom by her mother Eleanor, who greets her daughter with crossed-arms and a look of grave concern. “Ali, this is a big mistake you are making,” states her mother, “please think of the kids”. Alice stops in front of her mother and drops her bag, trying not to begin crying again. “Please Mum, let’s not go through this again, I know you don’t approve of my decision, but I’ve got to try,” replies Alice. Her father John enters the hallway and stands behind Eleanor, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Come on Ele, we’ve gone through this. We promised Ali that we’d support her on this,” her father says warmly. John gives his daughter a big warm smile. “The children are waiting for you in the lounge”. Alice looks scared but still manages to smile at her father. She leaves her bag by the front door and walks into the lounge. Her son and daughter are sitting on the sofa, both dressed in their pyjamas, her daughter cradles a teddy bear in her arms. Alice crouches down in front of them both. Her parents stand in the doorway watching over at their family. “Hey kiddos,” she already begins to shed a tear again, she quickly wipes her cheek. “Mummy needs to go away for a while, I...I need to go to America”. Her daughter smiles, “But you always go to America Mummy, and you always come home”. Alice smiles, she sweeps aside some hair from her face. “I know I do poppet, but not this time. I’m going to be gone for longer”. Her daughter begins to sob, her son puts a comforting arm around her, then turns back to his mother. “Why won’t you be coming home,” he asks. “Your father… the man you see on the television, he isn’t the man I married, the man I know still loves us. He’s lost, he’s unwell. I need to go to America to try and save him, to try and bring him back to us,” states Alice. Her son replies with conviction, “Dad left us because he didn’t love us, he has become a monster”. Alice shakes her head, “No, he is very unwell. But everyone is redeemable, I know I can make him better, I just have to be with him to do that. You’ll see me doing bad things on the TV, but it’s just to get close to your Daddy, so I can help make him better”. “Do you understand me?” she asks her children. They both nod. Alice reciprocates with a smile and a kiss each on the forehead before finally hugging them both at the same time. “What is going to happen with us?” her son asks. John steps back into the room, “It’s ok Kiddo, you're both going to live with us for now, until your Mummy can bring your Daddy home”. Alice’s daughter smiles, “Does that mean lots of Apple Pie, Grandad?” He walks over to them all, placing his left hand on Alice’s shoulder whilst honking his Granddaughters nose. “You gotcha, kiddo”. He turns to Alice, “Your car is here, it’s time to go”. As he stands back, Alice gives both her children the biggest hug she can. She holds it for what feels like an eternity as if it would be the last time she would hold them in her arms. “I love you both so much”. Alice finally pulls herself away from her babies. After saying her goodbyes to her parents, she finally walks out of the front door with her bag. She is followed out by her parents. “Please keep them safe, and stay vigilant. James has already created many enemies, who knows if one would ever sink as low as coming after the children”. Her father tries to calm his daughter’s anxieties, “Don’t worry about that Ali, Walter already tried and failed that tactic, no one else would have the sense to do that with you by James’s side”. Alice says her final farewells to her parents and enters the car. As it begins to leave, she catches sight of her two children standing in the lounge window, looking sad as their mother departs, her daughter still cradling her teddy bear. Alice finally breaks down and sobs in the back seat as the car pulls away from the house. |
Alice opens her eyes and wipes away her tears. Finally, she sits back up and turns to her husband, who had failed to notice her small pouring out of emotion.
“Are you sure this plan is going to work?” she asks Nightingale.
He turns to his wife with a sinister grin on his face, “Absolutely”.
Adrian turns around and hands Nightingale an identification badge. He takes the badge from Adrian and looks at it.
“I’m impressed Adrian, this will get me through all the security doors?” asks Nightingale.
“Absolutely boss,” replies Adrian, “The real Anthony Parker is an agency nurse booked for a shift tonight on Neuro Intensive Care”.
Adrian chuckles to himself, “At least he was, he’s now six feet under, but they don’t know that”.
Nightingale continues to look at the badge, “There Frank goes again, underestimating me. He thought by moving Vic over two hours from the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville to this corner of Georgia would keep him safe?” he shakes his head.
The SUV approaches the Memorial Health University Medical Center.
Adrain turns to Brookes, “Take us to the underground parking, we need to remain under the radar”.
The SUV turns off and enters the underground parking area, after finding a secluded area, Brookes parks up.
Nightingale undoes his jacket, revealing that he is wearing a pair of nursing scrubs underneath. He clasps the badge to his chest pocket.
Alice kisses him, ‘Watch your back, we have no idea what kind of security Frank has in place out here”.
Nightingale laughs at his wife’s statement, then reciprocates the kiss. “Please, this is Frank we are talking about. He will already think he’s outsmarted me by moving Vic out here. The biggest threat will be this badge not holding up”.
Adrian turns to Nightingale, “Don’t worry boss, the badge is solid”.
“Well, we are about to find out”.
Nightingale exits the SUV, turning left and right, no one is around. He proceeds to head over to the lifts. Once inside, he pulls out a face mask. The doors finally open on the floor he requires, a sinister smile spread on his face which is soon covered by his mask.
“It feels great being home”.
It feels unusual wandering through these corridors, they share similarities to those of the hospital I worked in for many years back in Kings City. A place where dedicated family man James Harrison reported to shift one evening and never returned. That weak individual was exposed to pure evil, the darkest depths one can reach, and when he fell to those depths, out arose I, James Nightingale. It isn’t the first time I’ve been in a hospital since that memorable day, I paid Zooey Deschanel and Kidsgrove’s two stooges a visit in the Los Angeles Hospital, as-well-as spending a humid evening sat in a Mexican hospital collecting intel. Yet this one is different, it makes my heartbeat that little bit faster.
It beat fast when I reported to that lazy, overweight Charge Nurse back there. She barely looked at my identification badge, nor did she care to look at the face under this mask. If she had, she would have noticed the person standing in front of herself was not Anthony Parker but, the same man in the picture behind her desk, put there as a means of warning the staff that Vic Venables attacker was in proximity, but she failed to do so.
And so I am here, standing in front of the side room four, the side room of Vic Venable, who from all accounts has struggled greatly since I caved in his skull with a baseball bat. The report I received from my source tells me he remains in a medically-induced coma whilst they try to reduce the swelling in his brain. It doesn’t help that he has been moved to this inferior medical facility out in the far reaches of rural Georgia when he’d previously been in a state-of-the-art facility before. But that’s Frank for you, he’s selfish. Many would justify his action as looking to protect his brother from the man standing at his door now, yet I know him. Frank moved Vic for one reason, his ego. If Frank wanted to protect Vic then he would stay at his brother's bedside night and day, yet he’s nowhere in sight.
And I am
I reach for the door handle and push it open. The room is dimly lit, Vic lies in the centre of the room, prone, vulnerable. His eyes remained taped shut, his face still swollen from the beating he received by my baseball bat. There is a deathly silence except for the occasional beep of the cardiac monitor, and the inhalation and exhalation of Vic’s breathing, which is controlled by a ventilator. I enter the room, discreetly closing the door behind myself, locking it to ensure we will not be interrupted.
I have a growing sense of adulation as I admire my handiwork. I remove my face mask as I approach the older Venable brother, leaving it on a side table. The beeping of the cardiac monitor begins to annoy me somewhat, it always used to annoy me back when I worked in similar settings. I press the mute button, switching it off would have alerted the Charge Nurse. It would have shown up on the central monitor, I can’t draw attention to myself now, and don’t have time for an unwanted interruption.
After continuing to admire Vic’s injuries for a moment, I reach into my pocket to remove a voice recorder. I pull up an armchair and place it next to Vic’s bed, sitting down as I spin the recorder around with my index finger and thumb.
Finally, I stop, clear my throat and press record.
“Hello Frank, if you’re listening to this recording, then you’ll have found the gift I left for you at Vic’s bedside. Please think of this as my confession if you will, I hope you find it an insightful listen”.
“I’ve spent time assessing Vic’s injuries, and in my professional opinion, I can confidently inform you, that your older brother will not make a meaningful recovery”.
I pause the recording, a smile spreads across my face. After a moment I compose myself and press record once more.
“How has Christina handled the whole situation, Frank? It must’ve been so hard for her to deal with this. Not only did she sustain injuries of her own, I purposely spared her for one reason; so she would learn to hate you. Your arrogance, your total disrespect for me drove me to take such drastic measures. Every time I struck Vic with that bat, I pictured your face, I imagined the guilt you would feel as a result of my actions. If I felt those emotions, how must Christina feel knowing her brother-in-law was the reason her fiance has been left for all intents and purposes, a vegetable. How can Vic finally marry the love of his life in this fallen state, or help co-create a life? He can’t, he won’t be able to do any of these things, because of you. You will not only have to live with the guilt your already burdened with, but also knowing Christina will resent you for the rest of your days”.
“You're a family man, Frank. Although to this point you’ve often lived a selfish life, putting yourself first, seeking out your own aspirations, all whilst hopping from one bed to the next. Deep down though, family has remained an important part of your life. Vic was your big brother, you looked up to him. You followed him into this sport and although you surpassed him as an in-ring competitor, he was always your role model. You were always looking for his love and approval. When I had him tied to that chair, before I took his mind from him, despite the incoming threat to his health, he swore that you’d make me pay for my actions…”
I again pause the recording, a small laugh escape. I try my best to keep it inside in case it garners attention from someone outside. I finally resume.
“...it must truly hurt knowing that you will not be able to live up to Vic’s expectations. His threat against me, they really hold no merit. After the very first swing of the bat connected with Vic’s skull, after that very first crack was sounded off, I had you beat. I’ve invaded your life similarly to how cancer infiltrates one's body. You can fight it, Frank, you can throw all the radiotherapy and chemotherapy at it as you want, you are simply fighting the inevitable, that cancer will overcome it’s victim, like how I will defeat you. You can try your best, throw everything you have at me, it won’t matter. All your moves are futile, once again I’ve proven I’m two moves ahead of you. Whilst your nursing your injured ribs from the beating Mintzel and myself handed you during Clash, I masterminded this whole plan, and am once again alone with your brother, who is now more vulnerable than ever”.
I again pause the recording, I survey the room for something I could use to kill Vic. If I wanted I could simply unplug his ventilator, but that would again draw too much attention, and I’d rather not fight my way out of here. I stand and rummage through a procedure trolley, I finally locate something useful; a 20ml syringe. I quickly open the packaging and draw back the plunger, filling it will air. I quickly walk back to Vic and sit down next to him. I examine the central line lumen protruding from his neck, I select a port and screw in the syringe, unclamping the lumen in the process. I then pick up the recorder and press record once again.
“Just like now, Frank. As I sit here next to Vic. I have a syringe filled to the max with air attached to the central line in his neck. I have so much power over the situation, with one push of this syringe, I send 20mls of air straight into your brother's internal jugular vein, causing an air embolism. If it goes to his heart, he will have a heart attack, whereas if it goes to his brain, it will cause Vic to have a stroke. Either way, the result would be catastrophic, and considering the poor state of health he’s already in, he will not survive such an ordeal. Maybe if I push this syringe right now, then Christina will be unburdened by a severely disabled husband, perhaps she could take another lover. Maybe you would be free from the disappointed look on your brother's face every time he looks at you with his sad, fixed gaze”.
I unscrew the syringe and place it on the side.
“That would be too easy for you. I’d in truth be doing you a favour by ending Vic’s life now. This visit wasn’t about killing a disabled man, I will feed my urges on Sunday when I eradicate you in the ring, ending Vic’s suffering would simply be a kindness you shall not be afforded with. He may never recover his use of speech, but that look of disappointment he will display will haunt you, will scar you for the rest of time. You can blame your neck injury inflicted by myself upon you for the reason why you have obtained quite the pill habit, but in truth, it numbs the guilt you carry with you each day that you failed your brother”.
I hear passing voices, I again pause the recording and sit silently until they pass. I get up and walk over to the door, peering through the slats to ensure they have passed before I continue. My heart thumps as I wait, after a moment they are gone, and I continue.
“Despite the knocks against you Frank, for years you have been the best chaser in the sport. With a title on the line, there is no one better; FPV has a long list of accolades to his name. Yet holding onto those prizes, those titles, well that seems to be a different story. Perhaps the biggest knock against you is defending anything of great importance is your true weakness. You’re the most decorated Action Wrestling World Champion, winning the title three times. But you're not the current champion, meaning you have lost the title a record three times. Defending anything of importance is a real weakness, titles, friends, family, if it’s something of Franks, it’s vulnerable for attack, and will almost always be conquered. To this point, I had made myself invulnerable, whereas you left yourself exposed to the world. Everyone knows your business, who your loved ones are, you even said it yourself on Super Clash back in December. I remember the exact words, I memorised them, seeing them as an olive branch. You said ‘My relations aren't secret. Anyone who's seen me at any point in my career knows who my friends and family are. You want to get to me through them? JUST TRY, I DARE YOU! Because I'll be there, no matter where, ready to back them up’...”
I again struggle to contain my laughter, pausing the recording once more. It’s unbelievable Frank made such a stupid statement, how he has been unable to follow up on that promise. I press record once more.
“You failed to defend your friends and family, despite the promises you made to me. Your statement motivated me even more to carry out my ruthless attack on your loved ones. How is Dr Valasquez’s jaw healing up? Has he regained the ability to fuel your ego with the little amount of knowledge he obtained from Psych 101, has he got you fired up and motivated ready to give me a much-deserved beating at Battlefield or is he drinking soup from a straw still while you nurse his injured body and your bruised ego?”
I stand to my feet and wander to the window, peering outside. Savannah is a beautiful town.
“As I said before Frank, this recording is a confession. I confess to the heinous beatings of both Vic and his fiance, Christina. I have committed many other crimes, I stabbed Emily Deschanel, I bludgeoned Etta Bennett…”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“...I even tried to force myself onto Alice when we were separated. As-much-as I have stated that you're a poor excuse for a human being; I am the worst kind imaginable. When you locate this recording you could simply hand it over to the police and I would be locked away for a long time. But I know you won’t, your pride will stop you from doing that. You’ll want to gain revenge for what I did to Vic, to Christina, and for what I’ve done to you. Handing over this confession would be the strongest thing you could do, but you're too weak-minded to even consider it. You’ll think you can take me out with one final Headshot, but you will fail again. You will fail again just like when you promised that you’d be there alongside Vic when I came calling, just like when you promised to eliminate me from Battlebowl. You failed the very instant you disregarded me as a credible threat and for that, I implore you, hand in the confession. Spare yourself the embarrassment and the constant failure. Do the right thing for Vic and get justice for your brother”.
“What would he think of his younger brother forcibly removing two young children from the care of their loving grandparents, committing them to the harsh world of the foster care system? I realised long ago I was going down a dangerous path, therefore I removed myself from my children’s lives to protect them. Alice recently made the same decision. We had spared them from this harsh world, you went and caused them more harm. You may have thought you were committing a kind act, maybe repenting for your sins a little, but in truth you’ve caused more harm, proving again you're selfish and that you only drove my children into the foster care system for your own amusement”.
I shake my head.
“Is that fire building up inside you? Have my words motivated you for our final battle? You can go for your Headshot, but I already removed the bullet from the chamber. I have reduced you to nothing more than a pill-riddled, washed-up former star who is now merely the gatekeeper for The Angel of Death to ascend to his rightful place at the top of the card. I will overcome you this one final time and move onto bigger and better things, soon my own list of accomplishments will surpass yours. Whilst I’m basking in my glory, you’ll be here, holding your brother's hand whilst you beg for his forgiveness and reflect upon the many poor decisions you made on this journey we shared. My journey goes two ways, either a SWAT team will be breaking down my doors, or I’ll be standing over your fallen body as you fail to make the count of ten. I’m confident in knowing what it will be, are you Frank?”
I switch off the recording device one final time and remove an envelope from my pocket. I insert the recorder into the envelope and seal it, writing Frank’s name on it before finally leaving it on top of the locker containing Vic’s personal possessions.
I take my phone out of my pocket and write a message. I pause for a second, looking up at Vic once more, I smile as I press send.