The Vanisher: Stray

The Vanisher returns in this sequel to help the MCU on a strange case.
With new dangers lurking everywhere, no one is safe.
With Campbell gone, a new threat has come to Brimswood, and no one knows how to stop it.
A mystery causes people to break apart, for an end to trust, and death to arise throughout the city.
The Vanisher, almost a year later, has returned to solve the case, and the one respinsible comes as a shock to all.


24. Kill Me Softly

I've been locked up for about a week now.

It's for my protection, as well as everyone else's.

Everyday, Ming comes in and draws my blood.  She tells me that I look cleaner and cleaner each time, that I'm getting better as the days progress.  

I still feel awful though.

I don't really talk to anyone.

Prat comes to visit me every once and a while.  He found out when Jones had to announce to the entire MCU that the hunt for the killer was over, and revealed my secret.

Some of the agents hate me, I can tell.  I've killed some of their own.  Not exactly how you gain favor with your coworkers.  

I deserve it though.  I sit in my dark, lonely cell in the special protection cell block.  

I wish I could just fade away.


"Ragan, you need to eat." Ming instructs me.  "Did you think we wouldn't notice your sudden weight loss?  You can't just flush your food down the toilet.  You're going to starve."

"So?" I respond back, not taking my eyes off the cement ceiling.  

"We can't help you if you're dead, Ragan."

"Who cares?  I'm a monster.  I deserve to die."

"Ragan, I think you need psychological help.  This isn't helping you, thinking you should die."

"Maybe I'm thinking about the well being of those who aren't murderers." 

Ming shakes her head.

"Ragan, I will force feed you if I have to.  I'll shove a tube down your nose and-"

"Good luck.  I'll just rip it out, you know I can break out of your restraints.  And ripping it out will injure me.  You make the choice." I talk to the ceiling.  Ming clenches her clipboard and walks off.


I lay there and go to sleep.  All I do these days is get stuck with needles and sleep.

What a life to live.


"Get up, Hart." Smith barks at me, waking me up.  I glower at him and roll back over.  I hear the cell door open and Smith rolls me over.  He grabs my wrists and cuffs them.  He easily lifts me to my feet with one arm and pushes me into the hallway.  He keeps a firm grasp on my arm as we walk.

"I'm not gonna run away, if that's what you're worried about." I hiss at him.  He doesn't look at me.

I walk down the hallway, my bare feet cold.  We pass some windows and I see my reflection.  My face is dirty and hollow looking.  My prison garments are baggy and stained.  My hair is a mess.  I look horrible.  

We reach a room and Smith opens the door.  He walks me in and un-cuffs me.  I'm in an interrogation room.

"What the hell am I doing here?  Is this Ming's attempt at therapy.  If so, it's bullshit." I sneer.  Smith looks at me.   "What?  Did I guess your secret already?  Guess it's back to the drawing cards." I taunt him as he exits the room.  "Yeah, go ahead and leave alone in here, see if that does anything, jackass."  I turn around, a smug grin on my face.  I notice a figure in the shadows.  "You can come on out, Jones, I know it's you.  No need to hide."

The person takes a few steps forward, moving into the light.  Their face is down, but I see their hair.  It's not Jones.  The figure looks up.  I know those eyes.

"Ragan?" He looks at me, confused.  I know that voice.


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...