Hurtful Memories

Richard drove home in silence as his mind reflected on what had happened earlier at the run down bar. He had known that such things were inevitable yet he was happy that he didn't have to pull out his gun.

Despite the events of the night, he was still bothered by the clue he received. The men had discovered the activities of the terrorist group that massacred his team and abducted him for torture in Boulderview.

That was something that had to get his mind tingled. He took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts to the back of his head. He had the location and he will be sure to check it out.

He arrived at his house. Lily was waiting in the living room as usual. She was sitting on the couch with her legs bent under her while she watched TV.

Richard always wondered why she loved sitting like that. Maybe her years of training made her feel the need to always push herself to the limit. He threw a nod at her before walking towards his bedroom.

Unknowingly, his earlier thoughts had returned. His mind was singing Priscilla to him and it reverberated like echoes. It took shear will power to not emulate the singing physically.

"You're happy."

Richard stopped and turned to Lily who had stood up and stood behind him with her hands over her chest. "How so?"

"You're smiling," she pointed out walking closer. "You never smile when coming home."

"Never?"

"Never!"

"Something interesting might have happened today."

Lily rubbed her temple and perked her nose. "Like Priscilla? I noticed that your heart rate had been experiencing unusual spikes. I didn't come looking for you because you didn't send a distress signal."

Richard shook his head sadly. Sometimes he forgot that someone was monitoring his heart rate to detect when he was in danger. "What has that got to do with Priscilla?"

"I don't know maybe you could educate me?"

"Just get my dinner, it's late already!"

"Aright, boss." She nodded and added, "I think we should change the method of keeping track of your location."

She turned and put her hands on the floor and raised her legs into the air. She was now walking with her arms. Richard sighed at her comical display. Did she seriously need to walk like that?

He shook his head and went towards his room. He took off his shirt revealing large scars and twisted tattoos. The scars were very gruesome as if someone had used burning iron rods to hammer at his back.

His memory flashed to the time he woke up to a piercing pain only to discover that his captors had woken him up with a red hot metallic hook to the back. Such torture left his mind tingling again.

He closed his eyes and approached the wall to the right. He placed his hand on a particular spot and a green light appeared and scanned his hand. Then a small light shone into his eyes and the wall creaked, forming a depression.

It pulled back till another room came into sight. Richard stepped in.

The room was large and seemed to be underground. It had large tables and shelves with variety of weapons displayed on them. From guns, electrocutors, bulletproof vests, grappler to dynamites, grenades and launchers.

He switched on the light. This was his secret weapons room! It also served as his training room with the Punch Thrower sitting quietly at a corner.

He walked towards the Punch Thrower and stood before it for a while. His mind flashed to Priscilla's smug smile as she declared herself victorious in their punching competition. He shook his head gently. "I never lose…"

He clenched his fist and threw a punch at the punching bag. It trembled sending the pointer flying all the way to 92 Newton!

….

Pine Cemetery, Misthill.

The air was cold and the night deep. The occasional air that swept through the cemetery brushed past her face and carried her hair along. It was silent except for the sound of small insects.

Pauline stood there frozen in place. Her body was rigid and her arms wrapped around her body as if to show that it was cold outside.

This weather wasn't as cold as the one she had been used to. Back then, when she had slept alone in the Royal Woodland, she had endured terrible cold and rain. She was soaked and hungry yet she huddled up under a tree and hoped that it gave her comfort.

The only thing she could do was gather leaves and make a makeshift bed hoping she'd get comfortable. A comfort that never allowed sleep given she was all alone in the forest.

She heaved a sigh and her breath formed a thin fog in front of her. Her eyes were fixed on the grave stone that stood lonely aside from the others. It was small and roughly cut and it had no picture on it. Only a name was engraved on it.

The grave stone read: "D. Junior. Was never born but was killed. A beloved son."

Tears started streaming down her face and she retracted her gaze from the grave, gasping. She cleaned her eyes but her sniffling remained. It hurt her to come here yet she chose to visit this grave every week.

Her heart felt like it was squeezed. The pain washed over her bringing along years of forgotten memories. Memories that made her tremble in pain, anger and fear.

"You died before you got to see the beauty of life. I never got to hold you…" she whispered slowly.

She steeled her resolve and turned away from the grave. She entered the small car that was parked just outside the cemetery and sat like that before starting the car. She made a left turn and drove forward.

Her destination was the Storm Light Bar. She wanted to drink. She wanted to forget her sorrows. She wanted to drown her fears in alcohol. She wanted to pick up another man.

She arrived at the bar and waited outside to admire the environment.