Story One
Zer
They Can't Take That Away From Me
Jacob Grey sat in the small dark room, tied to the chair. The only light in the room came from the single, uncovered bulb that hung above his head. The jacket of his suit had been removed and folded very neatly over the chair he now sat upon. However, that was the only neat part of the scene. Jacob himself was covered in bruises, welts, and dried blood. His own, in fact. His messy, brown hair covered his forehead and stopped just short of his eyes. His right eye ways swollen from where he'd been pistol whipped. Basically, Jacob was what one would call "a mess." Still, despite all the injuries inflicted upon him, a slight smile still lingered on his beaten face.
A door opened and shut, and a big man in a pin-striped suit, jacket removed of course, entered the room. He slowly approached Jacob, not saying a word. All he did was role up his sleeves and pull another chair from the shadows. Placing it in front of the other, the man took a seat and gave the prisoner a fierce gaze. In this light, the man's ugly, scarred face could be seen clearly. He sat close enough that his putrid breath made Jacob's nose twitch in disgust.
"Now tell me," the man demanded, in an obviously trying-to-be-calm way, for what seemed like the thousandth time, "Where is the money?"
Jacob's smile remained on his face, his thoughts so far from this dark and dreary room of pain. It thought instead of Catherine, his beloved, and her son, little Nick. He remained silent, and for that the man in front of him grew upset once more. His previous moments of anger were what had caused all of Jacob's injuries to occur in the first place.
The large man stood up and, with great force, brought his fist down on the top of Jacob's head. For a moment, the younger man in the chair winced in pain, as a line of fresh blood began to trickle down from beneath his hanging hair. But despite this momentary lapse, Jacob's smile returned and his thoughts took him back to Catherine.
All he could do was remember the way she wore her hat and the way she sipped her tea. That was something, even with all the torture; they couldn't take away from him. Scenes of the Catherine, Ezrah, and himself at dinner flashed through his head. The way she held her knife in her smooth delicate hands as she cut little Nick's food up made his smile widen. However, there was one memory of his that made him smile the most, even in this situation. It was the one thing that would always cause his stomach to do flips. In his mind, right now, Jacob was reliving the time that he and Catherine stayed out and danced until three in the morning. That night was probably the best of his life. They danced the whole night long. They danced all the way home. They even danced up the steps to her door, where they finally departed with the most perfect kiss in the history of kisses. Nothing, not a single thing in the world, could take that memory from him.
The thought, even now, brought a laugh to his hoarse voice.
"What's so funny?!" the man question, now in a rage.
Jacob just looked up at him and answered, "The money's gone. You'll never see it again. Unless of course you wanna take a little swim in the Hudson River and fight the fishes for it..."
This almost gave the man an aneurism. In his rage, he pulled out his gun and leveled it at Jacob's head.
"Go ahead," Jacob suggested, "I didn't come here today expecting to walk away."
In his last moments, Jacob's only thought was the hope that Catherine and Nick would be able to live a good life with the money. It should have been enough to put Nick through school and help buy a nice little house away from the bad side of town. The smile on his face remained as he looked into the eyes of the man in front of him, then he closed his own for the last time.
In the end, they had not been able to take away the one thing that made Jacob strong. They couldn't take away his love for those he cared about most.
Click. BANG!
Jacob Grey sat in the small dark room, tied to the chair. The only light in the room came from the single, uncovered bulb that hung above his head. The jacket of his suit had been removed and folded very neatly over the chair he now sat upon. However, that was the only neat part of the scene. Jacob himself was covered in bruises, welts, and dried blood. His own, in fact. His messy, brown hair covered his forehead and stopped just short of his eyes. His right eye ways swollen from where he'd been pistol whipped. Basically, Jacob was what one would call "a mess." Still, despite all the injuries inflicted upon him, a slight smile still lingered on his beaten face.
A door opened and shut, and a big man in a pin-striped suit, jacket removed of course, entered the room. He slowly approached Jacob, not saying a word. All he did was role up his sleeves and pull another chair from the shadows. Placing it in front of the other, the man took a seat and gave the prisoner a fierce gaze. In this light, the man's ugly, scarred face could be seen clearly. He sat close enough that his putrid breath made Jacob's nose twitch in disgust.
"Now tell me," the man demanded, in an obviously trying-to-be-calm way, for what seemed like the thousandth time, "Where is the money?"
Jacob's smile remained on his face, his thoughts so far from this dark and dreary room of pain. It thought instead of Catherine, his beloved, and her son, little Nick. He remained silent, and for that the man in front of him grew upset once more. His previous moments of anger were what had caused all of Jacob's injuries to occur in the first place.
The large man stood up and, with great force, brought his fist down on the top of Jacob's head. For a moment, the younger man in the chair winced in pain, as a line of fresh blood began to trickle down from beneath his hanging hair. But despite this momentary lapse, Jacob's smile returned and his thoughts took him back to Catherine.
All he could do was remember the way she wore her hat and the way she sipped her tea. That was something, even with all the torture; they couldn't take away from him. Scenes of the Catherine, Ezrah, and himself at dinner flashed through his head. The way she held her knife in her smooth delicate hands as she cut little Nick's food up made his smile widen. However, there was one memory of his that made him smile the most, even in this situation. It was the one thing that would always cause his stomach to do flips. In his mind, right now, Jacob was reliving the time that he and Catherine stayed out and danced until three in the morning. That night was probably the best of his life. They danced the whole night long. They danced all the way home. They even danced up the steps to her door, where they finally departed with the most perfect kiss in the history of kisses. Nothing, not a single thing in the world, could take that memory from him.
The thought, even now, brought a laugh to his hoarse voice.
"What's so funny?!" the man question, now in a rage.
Jacob just looked up at him and answered, "The money's gone. You'll never see it again. Unless of course you wanna take a little swim in the Hudson River and fight the fishes for it..."
This almost gave the man an aneurism. In his rage, he pulled out his gun and leveled it at Jacob's head.
"Go ahead," Jacob suggested, "I didn't come here today expecting to walk away."
In his last moments, Jacob's only thought was the hope that Catherine and Nick would be able to live a good life with the money. It should have been enough to put Nick through school and help buy a nice little house away from the bad side of town. The smile on his face remained as he looked into the eyes of the man in front of him, then he closed his own for the last time.
In the end, they had not been able to take away the one thing that made Jacob strong. They couldn't take away his love for those he cared about most.
Click. BANG!
