Fear. 

 

Fear ruled their lives—that soul-sickening dread of loss. Once they had obtained their perfect peace of mind, anxiety crept in like a demonic force to steal their light. 

​

A hot pit of hell awaited them at the bottom. Maybe that was where he and Marlena made their first mistake. Believing they could bottle their perfect piece of heaven. Immortalize it. Exist only for each other. 

Maybe they still could. 

His fingers picked up the door lock. 

 

Luckily, he knew where they were. Fernando had more memories of his past down there; he knew the rooms, the switch lights, the sounds. Which meant he had leverage. 

He had her. 

 

Let me handle that, John. 

 

Marlena’s haunting words had set his mind since they both disappear behind the metal door. 

After the horrible truth of their joined past, he had conceded to her request. Though it wasn’t easy. Down there, you’re either caught or killed. But unlike Fernando, John had a beautiful angel to care of. He noticed the shiny lock on the metal door. It hung open, an invitation. 

 

There was no stealthy entrance on his part as he slid the door open. Fernando wanted him there, Marlena needed him there… so there he was.

 

Let the games begin. 

 

He walked inside, and as soon as he saw her, his heart lurched. It only ever beat for her. Suspended above the floor on a hydraulic car lift, Marlena floated there like the angel she was—a vision. 

 

Her eyes covered. She has been stripped of her dress—her flesh on display, all except for a thin fabric to cover her breasts and panties. Wire ropes projected from her wrists and waist…. holding her aloft… like a beautifully distressed marionette.

The cables were anchored around the lift’s arms—and she dangled from just below. The cables flew above the lift, stretched taut above like piano strings, and folded over a second lift bar to drop down like rain. But instead of raindrops, padlocked weights dangled from the cables.

 

John tore his gaze away momentarily to study the mechanism. Within seconds, he had calculated the system. The lift was set on a timer. Lowering her every minute. The countdown will end with her submerged in a shipping container. 

 

The trap Stefano designed, he remembered.

 

“I thought to myself,” Fernando’s voice sounded out, “it’s unfortunate that you’ve never had the pleasure of starring in one of Stefano’s traps. Only I had the dubious pleasure of training here.” 

 

He moved forward, “What’s in the container, G?” 

“A concentrated sulfuric acid compound,” he replied. “Stefano’s recipe.” 

John smirked. “You won’t get away with this.” But he realized Marlena’s exposed flesh will be submerged in the mixture with no barrier to mute the damage. 

 

This sobered him.

 

“How does it feel, Black? Seeing your loved one in danger? Seeing her so helpless. Thank you for revealing she was the one that I was looking for all those years. I remember this room; I remember it all too well...you remember it too, I can tell. Do you like the addition of the locks?… just for you. It’s a metaphor.” 

 

John was already tired of his voice. “Very clever.” He glanced around and noticed a covered rubber tub beneath the dangling locks. “Go ahead. Open it.” 

He strode to the tub and toed the lid open. Keys. 

 

At least a hundred gleaming keys fill the bottom of the bin. The edges knife-sharp.

A hiss echoed through the room, and the hydraulic lift lowered a notch. He looked up at Marlena. She was strong, but her body reacted from the jolting motion, her muscles quaking with involuntary tremors as she swayed only feet above the container. The weighted locks above his head clung together, moving another few inches higher. 

 

“I knew from the moment I finally made the connection in my head, that she was the key to taking down Stefano; I never dreamt she would turn out to be Black Bird,” Fernando said. “I admit, for a while, I thought I remembered wrong. That Black Bird was destroyed in the explosion. We were here together, you and me, victims, and thankfully for that explosion, I was able to regain some of my stolen memories… How you murdered my family, how you betrayed a friend.” 

“I was never your friend.”

“Maybe not, but you were his finest mercenary. See, I struggled—with every kill—to get inside your head, to be just like you, but I couldn’t. That was why Stefano had put you up for the task.” 

“Stop talking in codes! What task?” He yelled

“Oh, you don’t have a clue, do you?” He smirked, “you were chosen to be the Black Bird’s keeper. I just never knew, she was Black Bird. After the explosion, you were harmed as well; he left me here to die. For some reason, I was in no good use to him anymore. He took you to heal at a hospital in Lugano, before sending you to Salem, for what I know now, was to protect his secrets, to protect her.”

 

Marlena was so much more than an assignment. “If you try to remove her from the trap,” Fernando continued, “I push the button on the lift controls. She might survive the acid dunk… but she won’t be very pretty anymore.”

 

He gritted his teeth and whirled around, looking for the man behind the voice. “You could just shoot us both. Save us the trouble.” 

He tsks. 

“Do you think I’m doing this for her? I don’t give a fuck how she dies in the end as long as she does. I’m doing this to avenge my family; I’m doing this for you and him. She dies, and all of Stefano’s secrets, hideout, bank accounts, dies with her. I looked at her patient file last night. What a shame, really, to send you to protect a pregnant woman. What a joke.”

 

“Pregnant. She is not pregnant.” He raised his voice.

“Not right now, she’s not, but she was when Stefano blew this whole mansion down and sent her back to Salem, years ago.”

“You’re lying.” His voice echoed around the big room. 

“Here, check it out yourself.”

 

A thump vibrated the dark room when Marlena’s patient file fell from an unknown hole in the ceiling. He ran toward the sound, picking up the brown folder. Going over the dirty pages, he found one with a long list of blood work results. 

“I’m many things, Black, but I’m not a liar.” His voice disturbed the eerie silence in the room.  

“Look at her beta results, pretty high, don’t you think?” At his intense silence, John had his answer. Marlena was a few weeks pregnant, but her test results showed high numbers, higher than to be expected.

 

“Twins,” John muttered. 

 

“Bravissimo.” 

 

Another shrill whistled from the gears on the lift, and Marlena descended lower. A warning that Fernando was ready to start the game. Even if he saved her, they were not simply walking away. 

 

Her eyes shot at him, he couldn’t miss the horror in her eyes, was it the news, or the acid, might be both. 

 

“Only one key unlocks her shackles,” Fernando said. “Dig in.” 

 

He looked up at her, beautiful and angelic. Her blond hair tangled in disarray, mascara smudged down her porcelain cheeks. Masking tape covered her mouth, and yet she was speaking to him, urging him on. 

 

It ends here, she said with her eyes. 

 

He started with the locks, inspecting each one. A Houdini lock and three other puzzle locks. 

 

He could use the pin he kept in his pocket to open the locks right now—but that’d be breaking the rules. She would suffer. Fernando wanted blood. He rolled his sleeves up and kneeled before the tub of keys, noticing an odd glint beneath the surface. Swiping his hand over the top, he pushed aside a number of keys. 

 

Razorblades. 

 

“Damn. This is going to hurt.” He fortified himself, and a sort of calm encased him as he sunk his hands into the sharp objects. From his peripheral, he saw Marlena kicking her feet, seeking the edge of the container. She won’t reach it. She only had five minutes before her toes touched the acid. Five minutes were more than enough time. 

 

He could assume Fernando wouldn’t put the keys to the locks anywhere near the top of the pile; he wanted him digging, razors shredding his skin. John worked his hands all the way to the bottom of the tub, gritting his teeth against the acute pain. He dug through the bin without a single wince for Fernando. He didn’t need to try every key there. He somehow knew what he was looking for. 

 

A buzz sounded, then he heard the hiss of the lift. Marlena’s body lowered closer to the acid. Bloodstained a silver key as he pulled it free. He inspected it quickly, then laid it on the cement. He dove back in. Fine slashes assaulted his wrists. Blades carved into his flesh, flaying his skin. But he pressed on until he found the second, and the third. 

 

Sweat stung his eyes, and he was shaking with adrenaline by the time he uncovered the final key. He rested his forearms on the edge of the tub and took measured breaths. Then he got to his feet; the keys gripped in his bloodied hands.

 

On the Houdini lock, he twisted the beveled screw on the backside loose, then slipped in the key and turned. The lock popped open, and he tossed it to the floor, the sandbag fell free. “Hang on, Doc. I’m coming to you.” 

 

The next puzzle lock was just as simple. The second lock clicked open. The weight released, and he grabbed the cable before it could zip across the lift bar. “Grab hold of the beam above you,” he shouted to her. 

 

With her wrists freed, she grasped ahold of the lift arm and clung to the steel beam. He filled his lungs, taking a full breath as he moved to the last lock. The key slipped out of his hand, slippery from his blood, and he cursed. The gears on the lift grinded, and he looked up to see it drop another few inches. 

 

Her feet hit the acid. 

Marlena’s pained cry was muffled, but the agony of it sliced through his chest more painfully than a million razors. She pulled her knees toward her waist, keeping away from the acid. But she was in pain. 

She was getting weak.

“Hold on!” 

 

The final lock sprung open. He raced across the room and scaled a large shipping container to reach the lift. 

 

“I’m here.” Seating himself on the edge of the beam, he grabbed ahold of her arms and helped her wrap them around his neck. She was trembling as he brought her to his chest. He worked the wire rope free from around her waist. Then he told her to keep an arm around him as he guided her across the machine and onto the container. John glanced around the room, seeking Fernando. 

 

He remained hidden. 

 

He quickly inspected her feet. Only her toes suffered the acid, but she needed to treat and dress them. She dug at the tape over her mouth and pried it off, leaving angry red marks behind. “He’s going to be here soon.” 

“I know.”

“Show me the file.”

 

Her eyes opened with horror as she stared at the last page. The final page of her file was somewhat folded. 

 

She winced and blinked a few times to clear her vision. 

“Are you okay?” She nodded repeatedly, still shaky with adrenaline and her sweat-slicked, exposed skin. “Oh my god...Joh- yes, but first, we need to get you to a hospital.” At his confused expression, she palmed his face between her trembling hands. 

“The razors—”

 

“Were tipped with *aconite.” Fernando stood at the base of the container, gun aimed up at them. John pulled her behind his back. “That’s amazing,” Fernando said. “A selfless, heroic act. Where was that when you shot my wife? My boy?” He could feel it now—the poison coursing his system.

 

A clamminess blanket his skin. Spikes of cold and hot prickle his body; nerve endings misfiring. His muscles twitched, spasms started to set in.

Nausea will soon follow. 

Paralysis. 

An excruciating death. 

How long has it been since the first blade sliced his skin? Five… six minutes? He didn’t have much time. He kneeled before her. “Take the switchblade from my pocket.” The panic lacing her gleaming eyes gave way to horror. 

“What?—I’m not—” Fernando’s deep chuckle grated his already fraying nerves. “Oh, this is priceless. Just perfect.” He tapped the barrel of the gun to his temple, as if he was thinking. 

 

“Yes, Principessa. You have to. A mercy kill… end his pain. You don’t want him to suffer an agonizing death.” 

 

He swallowed as he held her gaze, resolute. “Put the blade to my throat.” 

“John…” Her tearful eyes sealed shut. 

She knew that was the only way—but she was fighting it. 

 

“Trust...me,” he whispered. He wet his lips, his mouth ran dry. With unsteady balance, she dipped her head and placed her trembling lips in the softest kiss to his neck. 

“John...the photo..you have to look at it,” raising her hands; she unfolded the last page of her patient file. His eyes froze.

 

There he was, standing right next to her, hugging her as a good friend would. Wearing the same white Doctor scrubs she did. 

The tag name was clear: Doctor Giovanni Fernando.

 

“He...he was never a prisoner… Now I know who’s behind the signatures on our patient files. It was him.” She talked in a hushed tone, her swift words for his ears only. Then her hand slipped into his front pocket and grasped his switchblade. 

“I remember now. It was Fernando who turned me into Black Bird. It was he who invented the microchip in our heads.”

“....how?” he coughed

“I don’t know...somehow he was injected with the same microchip we have.”

 

“I underestimated you, G,” John shouted down to him, keeping his gaze trained on Marlena’s beautiful face. When he was gone, he’ll either shoot her or submerge her in the acid, finishing the job. 

 

​

“Say Something” - A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera

 

“Do it...Doc..”

The scene was set. 

Maybe that was where he and Marlena made their first mistake. Believing they could overcome his mind games.

They were perfection… and even now, as he kneeled before his beautiful goddess and prayed for her mercy, he regretted nothing. 

They truly were happy. 

Maybe they still could be.

The razor-sharp edge of the knife pressed into his neck and split his skin, and he released a hiss. 

“I can’t…please…” she cried.

He searched her gold-flecked eyes for the spark that told him she was ready. Her eyes were wild, filled with loathing contempt for their capture, her chest heaving as glistening beads of sweat dotted her smooth brow. 

 

His beautiful lady. 

“Do it,” he commanded. Her hand steadied. The cold steel a tantalizing tease to his heated flesh. 

“Close your eyes, John.” Her voice was throaty and raw, wrapping him in her cruel, loving embrace. John pushed against the knife, drawing blood. 

“I want to look at you..one last time.” 

“Don’t worry...I’ll see you again”

“In heaven” he whispered.

Her delicate neck pulsed with a strained swallow. He felt the force of it in his throat. His thirst for her never quenched. Even now, as she gripped the weapon with both hands and began to drag the blade across his skin, he yearned to taste her one more time. 

Death at his lover’s hand. 

 

The ultimate reward and punishment for their perfection.

 

*Aconite: a poisonous plant of the buttercup family, which bears hooded pink or purple flowers.