Closure
Eleven Years Later

“Eleven Years Later”

2nd June, 1957

In a grubby hotel room, Finn grabbed some shut eye. The handle of a semi-automatic pistol poked out from under the stained pillow he rested his head upon. He was no longer the handsome, cocky rogue he used to be. Eleven years had passed and his restless body had evidently been through the wars, making him look older than his thirty-six years. Dirty jeans, heavy boots and a ‘1977’ insignia tee-shirt took him instantly out of time and place, while a silver wedding band added to his enigmatic persona.

There was a deathly silence that instantly unnerved. The narrow corridor outside Finn’s room seemed to run on forever. A steep wooden staircase dipped into the darkness below, while a row of windows obscured by heavy brown curtains blocked out the sun.

Back in the nicotine stained room, pushed up against the wall below a cracked window showcasing a bleak city vista was a wooden chest-of-drawers littered with peculiar objects. A newspaper dated JUNE 2nd 1957, a pack of smokes, box of matches and a Red Eye. Scattered beneath them were various black and white crime scene photographs: a naked man (Edward Fairway) lying in a pool of blood at the bottom of a flight of stairs, a young woman (face circled with red marker) and a skinny gent (KILLER? scrawled over the picture), torn sheets of detailed notepaper: crime of passion, deadly sins, and a street map with a location circled; 22 Warland Park.

In the corridor, something was amiss. Although the windows were sealed shut, the curtains were caught in a sudden gust and begun to flap in an impossible breeze.

Finn, meanwhile, was having a bad dream. His eye lids flickered and his breathing was erratic...

A narrow, wooden passage ran down to a bleak office wrapped in broken windows. The overhead strobe lights flickered and buzzed. Jason appeared. He was young again, like before, but hurt. He stumbled painfully down the corridor and ran towards a small office painted bright, blood red. There was someone inside the RED ROOM, a young woman, blurred and distant. Jason pushed open the office door and stormed inside.

Grabbing the young woman, Jason threw her against the wall behind the office door and slid up next to her like a rabbit caught in headlights. She was tender and scared... too scared to move or speak. Holding her back, Jason lifted the pistol and closed his eyes to calm his nerves. What looked like a TAKER shrouded in shadow poured into the corridor and ran towards the red room, lifting a gun! Jason yelled something and fell into the doorway.

The TAKER clocked him and opened fire.

An echo of gunfire faded away – rat-a-tat-a-tat! Finn shifted uncomfortably in his sleep and muttered, “Jenna!”

In a cloud of bloody dust, Jenna crashed to the ground. Her head drooped back, striking the cold surface to reveal her cold, dead eyes. Blood oozed from the gunshot to her skull. As she hit the ground, her hand slammed against the floor and her wedding ring broke loose and clattered onto the icy stone. Pinned against the wall, Jason saw Jenna and yelled... thrusting his firearm at the Taker as he entered the room. Jason pulled the trigger – BLAM!

The heavy brown curtains rose and flapped in the gust. Suddenly, a window pane cracked!

Finn woke! Snatching the pistol, he lifted up off the mattress and thrust it towards the door. Etched on his right arm with metallic black memory ink was a faded tattoo, like a Nazi concentration camp number: J FINN MURDER 11/11/1926.

All the windows in the hotel corridor cracked like ice. The shadows shifted and fell to create humanoid shapes that protruded towards Finn’s room.

On his feet, Finn gripped the pistol with sweaty hands and kept it locked on the door. He glanced back at the window and then switched back to the unseen danger ahead.

Suddenly, the shadows transformed into a four-man hit squad of Takers that crept tentatively down the passageway towards Jason’s room.

Finn backed away from the door.

The Takers locked and loaded, and aimed their auto-machine guns at the bedroom door. Their leader, Task Agent March, brought up the rear.

“Illegal located,” said one Taker, as March stepped forward – “Kill on sight!”

The Takers raised their weapons, “Let’s rock!”

Finn threw himself against the wall, ready for action.

The leading Taker opened fire. Rat-a-tat-a-tat!

The thunderous burst of gunfire blew the bedroom door to smithereens.

Finn shielded his eyes as the exploded door scattered the room. He swung around and blindly pointed his pistol into the corridor and opened fire. Blam! Blam! The bullets tore down the passageway and stabbed into the leading Taker’s chest. Their impact lifted him clean off the ground and catapulted him into the Taker behind. As they hit the ground, March opened fire. Rat-a-tat!

In the chaos of thunderous gunfire, Finn scrambled onto the chest-of-drawers, snatched the Red Eye and kicked in the window. Smash!

The grounded Taker groaned in a pool of his own blood, while the others charged towards the bedroom and stepped over him. March took the lead and squeezed the trigger. Rat-a-tat-a-tat! Rat-a-tat-a-tat! Rat-a-tat!

The room was torn to shreds, as Finn threw himself out of the broken window and crashed to the ground, dropping into a deep puddle and falling into a roll. The thud made him lose his grip of the pistol and it clattered away from him.

March rushed into the bedroom, “Hold fire!”

The shooting stopped. March moved over to the broken window. Looking down into the alleyway, she watched as Finn scrambled to his feet and picked up his pistol. March quickly fed a fresh clip into her machine-gun, locked the sights on Finn and let rip. Rat-a-tat-a-tat!

The stream of bullets tore chunks out of the ground and high stone wall. Finn yelled and ran for his life down the alleyway, narrowly missing the hail of metal rain that followed him.

Back in the hotel, a lone Taker stomped down the staircase, discarding a used clip and feeding a fresh one into his weapon.

March stopped shooting and lowered her gun.

Finn exited the alleyway and raced down a quiet street, as the pursuing Taker ran out of the hotel. Spotting Finn, the Taker took a pot-shot at him. Blam! The bullet shattered the windscreen of a parked car Jason rushed past. The Taker gave chase.

Back in the room, March pulled off her helmet. She was about the same age as Finn and equally dishevelled. She slammed the helmet down on the ground, “Son of a bitch!”

Beep! Jason ran into the road towards an oncoming car. He kept running and shot at the car’s wheel. The blast caused the car to swerve and flip like an acrobat into the air, crashing down on the pursuing Taker that ran into the road after Jason. Crunch!

Jason looked back, “Ouch!” He carried on running.

Snatching one of the crime scene photographs off the chest-of-drawers, March looked at the snap of the naked man, then flipped it over to read the peculiar details written on the back –

VICTIM: EDWARD FAIRWAY

TIME OF DEATH:

09:11 (2/6/1957)

LOCATION: 22 WARLAND PARK

She snatched a walkie-talkie off her belt, “Finn’s heading for twenty two Warland Park to witness the murder of Edward Fairway... Victim shot dead at nine eleven A.M.” March screwed up the photograph and snapped, “Take out Finn... repeat, take out Finn!” She then looked at the remaining Taker, “Wipe it.”

The Taker nodded and unclipped a modified Wiper Bomb from his belt and snapped the tube in half, filling it with florescent red light that gave off a high-pitched squeal. The Taker released the bomb and stepped back as it hit the floor. On impact the tube exploded and bleached the room with a blinding, electrical light.

Boom!

The sparky light faded and the room was back at it was before the gun battle. Time had been repaired. However, March and her fellow Taker remained unaffected. Just like Finn, they did not belong to that time.

“The Unsolved Murder of Edward Fairway”

2nd June, 1957

Finn leant up against a wall and looked across the street at the last house on the row – Number 22, Warland Park. A milk float trundled past. Glancing at his wrist watch, he noted the time: 09:08. Under the clock face was the countdown window: 00:02:08, 00:02:07. Death was coming. Finn sighed and looked up at the top window of the house.

Edward Fairway, the young man from the crime scene photographs, mounted Clara, the young woman from the same set of pictures, and kissed her with hot passion. He looked deeply into her eyes and smiled, “I love you.” Clara smiled back and kissed him tenderly.

Finn toyed with his wedding band, but the sudden arrival of a battered car pulling to a halt outside the house grabbed his eyes.

The ‘skinny man’ from the pictures stepped out onto the pavement. He was a well dressed chap in a smart suit, trench coat and shiny shoes. Finn closed his eyes and took a deep breath... he knew what was coming. He opened his eyes and unclipped the Red Eye from his belt.

The skinny man walked over to No 22 and looked up at the top window. Dipping his head, he reached inside his trench coat and pulled out a six shooter. His hands shook and struggled to feed two bullets into the wheel. Snapping the wheel shut, he wiped a welling tear from his eye and entered the house. All the while, Finn took pictures of him with the Red Eye. As the door to No 22 closed, he headed across the street towards the house.

“I’ve got to go soon.” Edward said, kissing Clara. She smirked and rolled Edward onto his back, mounting him with gleeful delight, “Then let’s enjoy this while we can!” They kissed.

On the faded wall that ran up the staircase was a framed photograph of Edward and Clara on their wedding day. The skinny man stepped up onto the creaking steps and made his way towards the bedroom. His finger toyed with the gun’s trigger. He passed the photograph and tried to look at it, but it made him feel sick.

Through a crack in the bedroom door, the skinny man watched Edward and Clara having sex.

Meanwhile, Finn stood at the foot of the staircase and looked up into the shadows. He glanced at his watch: 09:10, then at the countdown window; 00:00:57. Suddenly, the telephone on a small table next to Finn started ringing. Startled, he shot a nervous look back upstairs.

Hearing the chime, the skinny man crept back into the shadows.

Edward clambered out of bed and wrapped a sheet around his waist. Clara sat up. “Leave it, Eddie.”

“I can’t. It might be work.” Clara sighed and lit up a smoke, as Edward stepped out onto the landing and made his way downstairs. As he did, the skinny man stepped back out of the shadows and aimed the gun at Edward’s head. His thumb pulled back on the hammer. Click!

Edward stopped half way down the steps and threw a startled look back over his shoulder. He saw the man and panicked. He tried to speak.

Blam!

Edward’s bloodied body toppled down the steps and slammed against the floor. His head tilted back and his empty eyes stared up at the ceiling. Blood trickled out of his mouth and spilled onto the cold tiles. The skinny man looked down at the corpse. He lowered the smoking gun and stumbled down the steps. Stepping over the body, he turned back to look at Edward through teary eyes. Casually, he lifted the gun and pointed it at Edward’s head.

“No!” The skinny man looked up the steps to see Clara, petrified and clutching her hands to her mouth. “Go put some clothes on – you’ll catch your death.” He looked back down the sight of the gun, as Carla stumbled forwards, “No!”

Snap, snap, snap. A rapid succession of pictures caught the skinny man unloading the second bullet into Edward’s head. Blam!

A red cloud of smoke washed over his body. Clara wouldn’t stop screaming.

Hidden away in the shadows, Finn lowered the Red Eye and hooked it back onto his belt. He pressed a small red switch marked FIRE UP. The string of incriminating photographs uploaded. The screen flashed: UNLOAD COMPLETE/GATE OPEN.

Bang!

The front door burst open and a fully armed Taker stormed inside. The skinny man faced him, terrified. The Taker raised his machine-gun, “Down!” The skinny man dropped the pistol and then to his knees. The Taker clocked Finn at the end of the hall and swiftly opened fire. Blam, blam, blam!

The skinny man yelled as the Taker leapt over him and ran towards the doorway. As the Taker entered the room, Finn swung down from the ceiling and kicked him flying with both feet. Crash! As the Taker fell, Finn dropped down and landed on his feet with a thud. Before the Taker could get up, Finn booted him hard in the face and knocked him back down.

00:00:04, 00:00:03 –

Finn snatched a Wiper Bomb off the Taker’s belt and snapped it in half.

Boom!

In a flash, he was gone.

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