Fanon:Hearts of Hallowan/106

Regrets - Episode 1.06

← 1.05 - Filling out Forms | 1.07 - TBA →

"Jeremiah!" An angry-looking, younger man in a suit walked towards the elevator in an office building, as a disheveled and very distraught Mr. Kemne stepped out.

"Umm... Yes, Mr. Basset?" Jeremiah asked the man. Jeremiah could sense that this was not going to be a good conversation.

"You are twenty minutes late. There have been three calls from you that you have now missed because you were not here. You continually flout our policies on having a positive attitude while handling clients. You show up to work, half-drunk, smelling like a dirty toilet and looking like a homeless bum. You're mean-spirited, slobbish, vile and don't put nearly enough effort into your job. And finally I get to tell you this. Do you know why I finally get to tell you this, Jeremiah?" Mr. Basset paused as if waiting for a response. "I get to tell you this because I have finally received permission to show you the door, and to ask you that you watch to make sure it doesn't hit you on the way out. You're fired." Without so much as a parting courtesy, Mr. Basset turned on his heel and walked back away from the elevators.

Thirty minutes later, Jeremiah, box of office possessions in hand, was escorted out of the building by a security officer. The officer wasn't at all forceful or gruff about this task, and upon reaching the main door, wished Jeremiah a good day before allowing the door to slowly swing shut in front of Jeremiah's shocked face.

Jeremiah thought of a lot of things. He thought about how much he had always hated Mr. Basset. He thought of what he was possibly going to do now. He thought about how much liquor he had back at home. But he mostly thought of his wife and children. How he had lost them, how his life had been torn apart, how everything he had ever known or striven for had been taken away from him, all because of one event which he would have gladly given anything to undo.

He drove back home without paying much mind to the pedestrian he had hit. His life, as usual, had taken another horrible turn, and he was far too busy feeling sorry for himself to possibly consider feeling sorry for another.

He just couldn't handle it anymore. He knew that he had to go back, he had to get out, he had to do something to end the current cycle of life that he was so ruthlessly trapped in. It was at that moment when Jeremiah first moved to the locked box underneath his bed and pulled out a small black handgun. Jeremiah admired the item for a moment, contemplating its usefulness, but then deciding that it was simply unthinkable.

Jeremiah had seemingly fallen asleep. He couldn't tell how long he was out or how he had fallen asleep, but he did know why he had woken up. His phone was angrily vibrating, and the number that appeared caused Jeremiah to immediately pick up.

"Blake, what is it?" Jeremiah asked.

"Jeremiah, you don't sound good, is everything alright?" The concerned voice of Blake Morril came through on the earpiece.

"No, no it's alright. I'm just... tired, that's all. What's going on?"

"There is another one, I think. Marci Ullman." Blake said.

"How did it happen?" Jeremiah asked, though he felt he already knew the answer.

"She was hit by a car. Of course, she didn't even get a scratch. I need to get in to talk to her." Blake said.

"Did Korey tell you?" Jeremiah asked, now curious as to how Blake became aware of this news. "I know you couldn't possibly have heard it from anyone else."

"It was Korey, yes. He's trying to figure out a way for me to get in, but it's so hard with her there."

"Listen, Blake..." Jeremiah was moving to different thoughts. "I think I really need to talk to you. I don't think I can do this anymore." There was a pause.

"Can we meet up in person?" Blake asked, his voice changing from one of mild pleasure to concern. "Maybe, at Central Park?"

"No, listen, I just... No." Jeremiah said, now deciding at this moment that he, personally, was done working with Blake.

"Jeremiah, you know what is going on here. You know that it's important that we all stick together and that we get to Marci as soon as we can. I can't have you flaking out at such a crucial moment. Meet me at Central Park at noon. Goodbye." Without any ending courtesy, the line went dead.

Jeremiah looked at himself in the mirror, a bewildered look on his face, holding the phone in one hand and the gun in the other.

Blake tossed his phone onto the seat of his car as he drove toward the Hospital. Talking to Marci would be difficult, but he knew it must be possible. Thinking of a plan, Blake picked up the phone again. Blake waited a moment, until he heard a voice on the other end.

"Blake, don't you have any idea where I am?" the hushed and frantic voice of Korey came through the line. "What is it?"

"Korey, I need for you to do me a favor. I need you to get rid of everyone, and especially your mother. We need to talk to Marci, and we need to do it right now. We may finally have the chance we've been waiting for, and I'm not going to waste it!"

End