(Twenty Years Later)
The demise of PC Connor.
The room was silent and void of light. The brick red floors were kept hidden by the blanket of dust that slept over it. Occasionally, the layer of dust was pierced by the drops of blood dripping from Juliana’s lip. She was tied to a chair by the ankles, waist and wrists. If she could move, she wouldn’t have hesitated to murder her captor regardless of her relationship with him. Her black eye only barely allowed her to see him as he entered into the room.
“Juliana, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve already explained to you that all of this pain is self-inflicted. You just need to help me so we can get through all of this… Where is he?” whispered PC Connor as he bent down to his daughter’s level and caressed her cheek as he spoke.
She mustered all of the phlegm in her throat and spat in her father’s face with scarlet red blood that encapsulated a fraction of the hatred she had in her. This was the ultimate act of disrespect. Damien Connor drew his hand back, ready to strike his daughter, but he paused an inch away from her face to show that he had restraint. He took a step back, wiped his face and began to stroll around the dark room which murmured tones of evil. He went through his plan over and over again like a psychotic perfectionist. Juliana was disgusted by the sight of him and wished only to make him suffer for everything he had done to her.
They both waited.
Juliana broke the patient silence that ensued with uncontrolled laughter. She stared at her father as she did so. He was proud of her bravery. She had definitely acquired it from him.
“You may think you know what you’re getting involved with, but everything you’ve done over all this time, everything you’ve tried to force me to be a part of and everything you’ve pretended to be is finished once my husband comes, Damien.”
PC Connor turned to his daughter and corrected her use of his first name. He was her father and not her friend. She corrected him by reminding him that fathers did not kidnap their daughters to find their enemies. He noted her point.
A gunshot-like sound was heard in the distance.
A knock came at the door of the room. This was him. Damien’s plan was now coming into fruition. Damien opened the door for his nemesis who was dressed in a long overcoat that stopped just above his knees with slim-fit, black trousers and a white buttoned shirt. The visitor’s face was decorated with an iron mask. PC Connor took a step back as he pulled his gun out of his pocket and aimed it for his nemesis’ face. The masked man darted around the room like a ninja in order to evade the line of fire of PC Connor’s gun. In the hope that he could luckily shoot his prey, Damien, the stone cold killer, shot aimlessly. A bullet flew towards Juliana. The gun, which had a silencer on the end, had let off its bullet without warning so Juliana had no time to react. The masked man pointed at the bullet, and it stopped in its tracks: he had telekinesis—the ability to move things with his mind. The masked man proved that he could also do so at supersonic speeds as he sent the bullet away from Juliana speedily, narrowly missing Damien’s face.
The masked visitor lunged at PC Connor as if he had just flown out of the barrel of a cannon. He landed heavily on the officer and started punching him in the face repeatedly whilst telling Juliana to run away. She thought to ask how she could do so whilst she was imprisoned by the ropes on her chair, but she felt him loosening the knots using his telekinesis. She managed to crawl slowly. The officer grabbed his assailant by the throat like two pigeons taking their food in vicious hunger. The masked man used his powers to loosen the officer’s grip and continued to pound him in the centre of his face. PC Connor left his blood all over his adversary’s fists. The masked man wished to continue his attack as he was consumed by an anger for everything he had done to his wife, but he was able stop himself.
Once PC Connor had realised that there was no hope for him to complete the two pivotal parts of his plan, which were unmask the masked man and kill him after doing so, he took a small blue pill out of his pocket, chewed it and died quickly. The masked man flew his wife, Juliana back home.
As they flew, Juliana looked down at her husband’s lips. Not only did she long to kiss them as soon as she arrived in the comfort of her home, but she also wished to know the long awaited story of the scar on his lip that she had been waiting to hear for the past 20 years.