Oblivion
Warning: Possibly disturbing content.
It was always the same. Whether it took place in a dark alley, in the midst of a crowded nightclub, or in some deserted warehouse. The deal was made. Money changed hands. He'd done this countless times in the past. But everything was different now.
Shaking hands ran nervous fingers through hair. Dry lips were moistened repeatedly. He couldn't afford to mess this up. He needed this. Nothing else mattered to him. Not anymore. He ignored the voice that whispered a constant refrain in his mind...through his soul.
If only...it whispered. If only you could turn back the clock. If only you'd been there. If only things were different. If only...If only...
NO. Don't think about that. About them. It hurt too much. Just a few more minutes and then he'd be free. Free to forget how "lucky" he was to be alive. Free to forget how alone he was now. Free to dream of a different reality. He could no longer bear to live in this one.
He smiled, comforted by that thought. He'd soon be with his friends again. Where he belonged. With the rest of The Magnificent Seven, as their ATF team had been known. They were all alive and warm and real in these waking dreams of his. He needed them to be that way. Needed the dreams. Didn't want to remember them cold and dead and buried.
He glanced at his watch, fidgeting nervously. A habit he'd acquired since that day. The day he was trying so hard to forget. He peered around the room, his need becoming overpowering in its intensity.
There he was. The tall, well-dressed gentleman in the gray suit. A sigh of relief shuddered through the lean frame.
"What you need?" The tone was casual, businesslike.
"I need...I need..." His own voice was barely a whisper.
"What?" The tone conveyed a trace of impatience.
"To forget." said Vin Tanner, reaching out a trembling hand for the heroin he'd just purchased. The oblivion he so desperately craved.
END