Other Fan Fiction ❯ Stolen ❯ Folders ( Chapter 14 )

Chapter 14 - Folders

“Please turn it off.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she watched the gruesome scene unfurl on the screen in front of her. Even when she closed her eyes, she could still hear the screams of the man being tortured.

This was the result of her defiance.

Two weeks ago Lisa woke up to find two red folders sitting on her nightstand with a note attached. She could read the yellow post it when she sat up without even reaching for the folders. It said, `Time to make another choice.' It took her several long minutes before she gathered the courage to reach out and grab the files that were left for her. It only took her a moment to glance though their contents. With a frustrated sigh, she threw them on the ground, scattering the photos, papers, and notes before she took her speedy shower for the morning. She stepped out of the bathroom, fully dressed, to find Jackson diligently returning all his data to its proper folder. He was kneeling on one knee but straightened his posture when she returned. He placed a hand on his other leg and hoisted himself to a standing position. He spoke as he placed the now tidied folders onto the bed.

“I'm not sure how to interpret your answer so I'm just going to have to ask you straight out. Which one do I recommend?” He leaned against the bed but did not sit on it as he crossed his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side.

“I'm not doing this again.” She said defiantly. “I shouldn't have done it the first time.”

Jackson smiled but didn't seem happy. “Oh really? Did you even read through them before making such a mess?”

“I don't care what they say, I'm not doing it. Tell your people whatever you like because I'm never going give you the twisted excuse to let you touch me again.” Lisa was unnerved by the smile that never left his face and his eyes seemed colder, if that were even possible.

Jackson unfolded his arms and clasped his hands together. “Ok, so the brother it is.” He pushed himself back to a fully standing position and gathered the folders off the bed. “Breakfast is ready.”

Confused by his apparent non reaction, she'd tentatively followed him out of the room and into the kitchen. He gave her no reaction. He didn't yell. He didn't even tell her she was acting foolishly by refusing to make the decision he wanted her to. They just ate breakfast like they always did with the only oddity being that she ate off a china plate for the first time, with a metal fork, no knife.

XXXXXXXXX

“Please turn it off.”

“Why Leese, you're the one that made the decision to watch it?” He watched her passively but clapped his hands together suddenly, half to startle the woman whose eyes were shut tightly and half to signify that this little torture for her had ended. “Oh, no need to. It ended all on its own. You're lucky it wasn't billed as `long torture' eh?” He flipped off the TV and it disappeared back into the wall behind the seascape painting as it had been before. That was only the second time he'd ever used it. The first time had been to see if it worked. He wasn't one to watch television or movies for that matter.

He turned his attention away from the receding television set and back to the tear stained face of his little bird. He hadn't expected her to refuse quite so adamantly and even though the client had not requested this type of visual confirmation of the job being completed, he found that this would serve as a more powerful reminder of just what her lack of decision had caused.

“I get cases like this one all of the time. In fact, it's so common that innocents are brought into this dark world of ours just to punish people that were foolish enough to get into it willingly on their own accord.” He walked over to Lisa who was seated in the very chair she'd used as an attempted escape tactic not too long ago. He'd been forced to tie her to it when it became very clear early into the showing that she wasn't going to sit there willingly and watch it. He knelt down in front of her and placed the remote in her lap.

“That guy didn't have to be tortured and die. A very nasty sort of villain could have taken his place at your say so but no... You had to be stubborn yet again and look at the repercussions of your actions.”

“That was not my fault.” She spat out, opening her eyes for the first time in fifteen minutes.

“You can look at it any way you like but the facts are clear. One word from you and that poor sap would be at home right now watching football with his ten year old son instead of laying in some train yard all hacked to bits.” He reached up and wiped away some of her more recent tears from one of her cheeks. “They're definitely going to have to use dental records to identify what's left of him.”

She said nothing in response so he stood up and walked behind the chair. Using fingernail clippers he snipped off the flexi cuffs that he'd used to restrain her. The moment her hands were free she pulled them in front of her and rubbed at the abused flesh. She'd only had her hands in front of her for a few seconds before two red folders were deposited in her lap.

“Like I said Leese, I get these kinds of cases all of the time.” He walked over and sat in the overstuffed chair off to her left. “Will you be making a decision this time or should we plan for another family movie night. If you let me know now, I'll be sure to get some popcorn for the next feature.” He watched her face twist into a mask of agony with the situation he'd just placed before her. “Just look at them, take your time of course, and tell me know your decision.”

With that said he stood up and returned to his stack of paperwork. As he worked, he kept a close eye on her reactions to his none too subtle demands. She sat motionless for the longest time until finally she moved to open one folder and then the next, examining the contents of each before closing them again. Then she just sat stoically once more. An hour passed before she actually stood up. She walked over to him at his seat at the bar and, without looking at him, placed the folders in front of him on top of his stack of work. Then she left without so much as a single word. He watched as she quietly walked out of the living room and into her own.

Jackson glanced down at the folders and saw one photo had not been placed back into its original spot. A short squat man, smoking a cigar at a cafe looked up at him. Jackson smiled and stood. He replaced the photo to where it belonged; temporary put his work on hold and headed off in the direction Lisa had gone only moments before. He already had the top button of his shirt undone by the time he reached her door.