"You're nothing without her. You know that, right?"

Shit, I wish Tigris would just stop. Stop asking that question. Stop looking at me like she was staring into my soul. Most of all though; stop acting as if she fucking knew me the way she claims to. I try to pull my hands away from each other, but the chain on the handcuffs only has so much give before they stop. I drop my hands back onto my lap and try my hardest to stare past the woman in front of me. This room was nice, wasn't it?

No, it wasn't. It was a fucking interrogation chamber, is what it fucking was. The tile walls painted the drabbest shade of gray in existence would be lulling me to sleep if not for the racket caused by the painfully loud AC unit that poured frigid air down on me. The analog clock on the wall is perpetually stuck: fifteen seconds past 4:12.

"No. I don't fucking know that," I finally manage to say, a splash of saliva flying out of my mouth and landing on Tigris' sleeve. Catching a glimpse of her face as she realized this almost brings a smile to mine. Almost. "Why don't you fucking explain it to me?"

"You don't need me to."

"Obviously, I do."

"No, you don't."

Silence. At last, some peace and fucking quiet! She sits there in her seat, staring right at me and I try my best to subvert it, focusing on that fucking clock. Come on you piece of shit, move. Once. I beg you. She starts talking again, not loudly; but in a soft whisper just barely audible over the roar of the AC unit:

"I can bring her back." A smile forms on her face. Not callous in the slightest; the most sincere gesture I've ever seen her offer. My face lights up, and I'm not ashamed to admit that fact. I snap my attention back to her and in the strongest voice I can muster; buried under the unimaginable amount of childlike glee that uncharacteristically fills my entire essence:

"What?"

"I can bring her back, you just have to trust me." The smile subsides, back into the cold, dead eyed straight faced glare she normally presents. "You have to help me before I can help you, though."

Gulp.

"Okay."

"Stand up."

I push the chair out, and stand up. She does the same and makes her way over to me, pulling a key out of her pocket. Using said key, she unlocks the handcuffs, and immediately I return them to my side. Sweet freedom. I take one last look around this room. Fuck this place.

Silently, she takes her first steps toward the door and I follow. We walk out of the room as two...

And enter the other side as one.


"Well, what do you have to say for yourself; you fucking murderer?"

"I don't know!" I scream again, my throat dry and voice hoarse. "I don't even remember it!" My shrill, cracked to shit wails echo on in the vast emptiness of the void. Again, the picture flashed before my eyes. Anna's corpse, freshly removed from the SUV and laid down on the dirt. A massive black and blue, stained slightly red with blood welt extends from her forehead. I assume that's where she hit the dash. Dried lines of blood fall down the sides of her face, and her lips are permanently curled in a smile. A twisted, gutwrenching grin. I look away, and yet I can't.

The picture is everyone.

The picture is the void.

"Look at it! Look at your bloody handiwork!"

"Why are you doing this?" I stammer out.

"So you can see what you are: nothing. Nothing but a murdering piece of subhuman filth."

"At ease. There's no need for this to continue." Miranda Tigris coming to my rescue? What?

The picture fades away, leaving only the blackness left. At least, for a moment. The invisible floor is replaced with a solid concrete slab extending for miles; the walls that I only knew existed when the pictures were broadcast across them become the same, lifeless expanse. Subtle chips and inconsistencies assure me that it isn't the same exact piece, as if that was the biggest part of this picture.

Miranda appears, seemingly out of nowhere and walks towards me. No, not me; towards a table behind me. Two chairs; one at either end. She motions for me to take a seat and I do at the one nearest me.

"Murderer..." the other voice whispers in my ear, making me shudder as I settle in the wooden seat.

"Do you know why you're here?" she asks.

"B-because I'm a murderer?"

A smile forms at the corners of her mouth. "Exactly."

She stops in front of me, fishing around in the inner pockets of her suit jacket. After a few seconds of digging, she pulls it out. A gun. Specifically, a revolver. Anna's revolver.

Gulp.

Click.

She takes aim.

Her target? My head.

I weep uncontrollably.

"Goodbye, Jessie."

Almost as if it were playing in slow motion; I watch every motion her finger makes as she pulls the trigger.

Bang.