When the past comes back to haunt you: part 5

Jim woke with a splitting headache. He blinked his eyes, which were almost swollen completely shut. He was no longer in the interrogation room, but could not identify his surroundings. His wrists ached and Jim saw his skin had been rubbed raw by some type of ligature. The same type of marks appeared on his neck.

Jim climbed down off the metal table gently, trying not to move too much too fast. Passing by a mirror, Jim gasped at his reflection. His body, naked from the waist up, was literally covered in bruises, scrapes and cuts. Every inch of his flesh burned as if it were on fire.

He began to take in more of his surroundings - the stainless steel tables, the rows of draws, the surgical tools. As his senses sharpened, Jim could smell death all around him. He was in the morgue.

Jim had never been claustrophobic, but the walls seemed to close in on him and he struggled to catch his breath. In desperation, he scanned the room for some way to escape. Jim spotted a tiny window high above the sink. He raced across the room, scrambled up onto the counter and threw open the window.

He drank in the fresh air greedily. Jim squeezed himself through the window, screaming in agony when his leg brushed against razor wire outside the building. He landed on his feet, trying to gain his bearings.

Suddenly, two arms came around him, forcing him to the ground. "You didn't think you'd get off that easy, did you?" the cop taunted.

"LAWYER!" Jim yelled. "I want a fucking lawyer! I know my rights!"

The cop sighed. "Better find yourself a good one. Clarence Darrow, Abe Lincoln and Johnny Cochran all rolled into one ain't gonna help you, asshole."


Missed parts 1, 2, 3 or 4?