like looking in a mirror // WILKES

[MARTIN RIGGS]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://i52.tinypic.com/otj5sn.jpg); width: 390px; -moz-border-radius: 40px 0px 40px 0px; border-radius:40px 0px 40px 0px; opacity: 0.8; border-right: #95b9c7 15px solid; border-left: #95b9c7 15px solid;] » everyone has a list of problems « » but i'm number one on everyones list « Colorado. They transfered him to Sidewinder frickin' Colorado. Otherwise known as the most boring, insignificant, tiny ass city in the world. And to top it all off- it was fucking cold. Of all the shitty LA cops they could have gotten rid of, Riggs could hardly believe his ears when Murphy called him up that morning with the news. So what? He'd broken protocol, knocked down a house, drowned a few hundred billion dollars in the Pacific ocean, and then killed some embassy workers with diplomatic immunity. It wasn't like that was new for him. And it wasn't the night was without consequences either. They'd stabbed him, shot him, thrown him in the ocean tied up in a straight jacket. And then Rika.. and Vicky.. and.. god. He'd had to hold both of their bodies cold now. The words caught in his throat when Murphy called him into the office. He all but destroyed it in his initial reaction. Yelled and threw things all around. He all but tore it apart until Murphy grabbed him by the shoulders and sat him down (something he wouldn't have been able to accomplish if Riggs was even half way recovered) and explained to him that this wasn't his doing. That the orders had come from high up. That LAPD was loosing their insurance over this, and that the Feds were coming to investigate. That if he didn't go they were all getting shut down. All of them, including Roger. That was what shut him up finally. Murphy said that he'd done too many favors for Riggs over the years, and this time, it was out of his control. He was sorry. And as much as Riggs didn't want to believe it, the look on his Captains face was one he recognized too well. He didn't tell Roger. He knew that the Murtaughs would make a big deal about it. One of those family moments that he just couldn't cope with right now. It had been hard enough in the Hospital where he had the luxury of pretending to be asleep. Rog had been planning on retiring soon anyway. So the hit wouldn't be too hard. That's what he told himself, but who was he kidding. He knew his partner.. ex partner, he supposed now.. better than he knew himself. And Roger wouldn't quit. He would march into Murphy's office and sit down and make sense of things. Eleven years worth of things that he hardly knew, but could explain better than Riggs himself. And something in the mans words would make Murphy rethink everything. Make him realize that Riggs was what kept Roger from retiring and Roger was what kept Riggs from eating a bullet and he'd cal them back together and everything would be fine. He'd have done that if Riggs came that night, with the younger man sitting awkwardly in the corner salvaging his pride, and he was probably still doing it now, even though Riggs was hundreds of miles away and hadn't even said goodbye. Roger had made everything okay time and time again, and his faith in the older man was without waver. They'd be alright. It was practically their curse. He'd just have to hold out here until then. The Department in Sidewinder was.. well it could hardly be called a department. There were maybe five other cops on a good day, and two was the usual, both on the upper ages and in the habit of staring at him as he paced around the small office. Riggs was predictably unpredictable, but it took a while to get used to that. A while that the people here wouldn't have. Every time the phone rang, Riggs perked a little, adrenaline and anxiety evident in his wild eyes; his ticket out. After a week though, he began to realize that things probably weren't that easy. He knew Roger wouldn't have a hard a time as him back home (he made his Captain promise that) but certainly he wasn't on Murphy's best side. Pacing days on end had begun to aggravate his wounded leg, so he started finding other things to do. Digging through files in the office, antagonizing his new colleagues with crude humor and irrelevant questions. (Between that and what they'd read about him in his file, they began to try avoiding Riggs all together). Their coffee was better than the coffee back home (it might have been the place's only redeeming perk) so he was doing a few cups a day and slowly coming back to his usual manic energy. Bouncing around at six a.m. one day, the only one in (the insomnia didn't change no matter what part of the states he was in), he pulled out some of the city's old crime records. Maybe if he did a bit of math he'd be able to predict when something exciting would happen (he could only imagine where they'd put him once he finally got kicked out of here). He was pleasantly surprised to find something better than he prospect of a new case; old cases that hadn't been handled correctly. Apparently they'd been about to try a woman for serial killings but they'd released her on the premise of lack of evidence. This wasn't the first time he'd borrowed another cop's car without asking, and this wasn't the first time he'd barged into scum's house without a warrant. Reading only one report he could tell the woman was guilty. And lucky for the other cops here, he had no moral grounds to keep him from proving her so. He learned, driving up the hill to her house, the apparently it was possible to live in the middle of nowhere of the middle of nowhere. And that's exactly where this woman's farm was located; up the hills and to the right. He didn't have a plan, that was against his nature. He supposed he planned on pressuring her into confessing or attacking him or, hell, if she invited him and and put on the Three Stooges that would be twenty times better than anything he could do at this office. He parked the car outside and walked up to the front door, knocking with the butt of his gun. He'd already forgotten what her name was (he'd done more skimming than reading), so he settled on just calling out "Its the police, open up!" and being reminded none to fondly of the first time he and Rog had to babysit (i.e. protect someone under witness protection) one Leo Getz. He could hear the shuffling in her house, so when she didn't respond after maybe, ah, half a minute, he felt he had a reasonable excuse to bust the door down with a swift kick to the rusty hinges (he'd save his bullets for something more interesting). Gun drawn, he stepped in quickly and stood against the wall. His eyes scanned the room expertly for any sign of movement and he let himself wander further into the house. Trying not to let his mind linger too long on the interior; homey and lived in, but with a distinct coldness that made it impossible for him to compare it to Rog and Trish's place, he called out "Mrs. Wilky-When-ah, Whatever the fuck your name is; Is this really how you want to start off your interrogation? I've got better things to do today." He paused again, right outside the first open door which led to a pitch black stairwell. Gun still ready to fire he took them down two at a time, steps well paaced as he still listened for her movement and tried to will his eyes adjust to the lack of light. With it still so early in the day, it didn't make much sense for sunlight not to be creeping through to the room, but hey; if she was really a crazy serial killer, he wasn't gonna blame the mother nature for saving herself. Even if that meant it wasn't doing him any favors. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ » i warned you this'd be rediculously long « tagged » - - - - - - annie 1385- - - - - - « words lyrics » - - - - - - nope (but they should be, eh? i'll claim em!) elevenie - - - - - - « credit

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[ANNIE WILKES]

In the middle of Sidewinder, Colorado, Annie Wilkes was sitting in her living room staring motionless at the wall next to her. It had been a long month for her and with what Paul Sheldon, the person she was caring for, attempted to do yesterday, it was just too much for her to handle. She thought about how it all started when Paul idiotically drove down the snowy mountains of Colorado right after he had been drinking for more than an hour. His car continued to pick up speed on the icy road and out of nowhere, a turn appeared causing Paul to drive off the track and flip over stopping once the vehicle hit a tree.

Annie was taking her annual hike through the woods when she came upon Paul’s flipped car. She rushed to the person’s aid when she noticed he was unconscious. Pulling him out of the car, she saw the person’s wallet fall out of his back pocket. She gently placed the man on the side door and opened the wallet to his ID. The named appeared as Paul Sheldon. She couldn’t believe it, the person unconscious right next to her was the one and only author of the best time selling Misery novels.

She had a decision to make, take him to the hospital a couple blocks down or carry him back up to her farm. Thinking that she wanted to spend as much time with him, she began walking up the mountain with Paul hanging over her shoulder. Two time consuming hours it took to get to the top of the mountain to Annie’s household. When she unlocked the front door, she walked through and turned left into a guest’s room. Slowly putting Paul down, she immediately obtained a smile on her face.

Annie stood up from her chair, with a terrified look on her face. Slowly, she moved toward her bookshelf next to the door and found the last book of the Misery series. Annie picked it up with a gentle hand and continued frowning about what happened after she brought Paul back to health. Annie was overly excited when she returned home with the new copying of the last Misery book. Paul promised not to ruin anything about the ending and Annie sat down in the living room and began to read. After about a week, she walked into Paul’s room looking more depressed than ever. She accused Paul of being a murderer after killing the protagonist in Misery, whom Annie began to grow on.

This infuriated Annie and she left Paul for a couple days. After returning, she seemed to have calmed down a bit and told Paul that he must revive Misery. Paul would have rejected except for the fact that Annie would have slit his throat. The pain of this event made Annie return to herself and she through the book across the rom. She began the walk towards the basement where Paul was being held now.

Annie stopped for a moment to relax on the hallway wall. As she did so, she thought about how Paul recently tried to murder her. Annie just returned home and found out that one of her knives was missing. She searched for about an hour but she couldn’t find it. She walked into Paul’s room to see how he was doing when she saw it! The tip of her missing knife was sticking out of Paul’s mattress. Without waking him, she slipped the knife out of the bed. An hour later when Paul arose, she showed the knife to him and he began to plea for his life. She decided that he could not be trusted.

She grabbed her axe and blowtorch and walked in a slow pattern back to the guest room. She could hear Paul screaming for mercy but her mind was set. She raised the axe and with a quick swipe, she sliced of Paul’s foot. She then picked up the blowtorch and burnt the open wound that way Paul would not die of blood loss. She repeated the steps on Paul’s other foot. This whole time, Paul was crying and screaming. By the time it was over, Paul was unconscious.

The simple sound of a knock brought Annie back to her senses. Without hesitation, she darted to the basement to warn Paul not to make a sound. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she ran down the wooden steps leading into a small room with a bed, a furnace, and a few tools leaning against the wall. From the basement, Annie could hear the door being bashed opened. Annie reached for the sledgehammer and waited patiently for the victim.

As the victim slowly walked down the stairs, Annie stood preparing to attack the person from behind. Once the victim reached the last step, Annie swung the sledgehammer with all her might hoping to paralyze the victim. Unluckily, Annie struck what seemed to be a guy in the back of the knee cap.

Once the man was on the floor, she headed back towards the hallway leaving both Paul and the guy in the basement. Paul began screaming for help as Annie got ahold of her blowtorch. She ran to the back door leading to the rest of her farm and continued towards the barn. As soon as she was in, she walked to her car and turned on the ignition. She began to wait for the right moment to pull out of the barn!