51stcenturyfox (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
51stcenturyfox) wrote2009-11-06 10:42 pm
51stcenturyfox) wrote2009-11-06 10:42 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: "Lady or the Tiger" Girl Number 9 (R)
Title: Lady or the Tiger
Characters: Vincent Boylan, Detective James Matheson
Rating: R
Word count: 593 (Hey, it's a web series, what do you want, a Girl Number 9 Big Bang?)
Summary: Alternate ending for Episode Six @ canyousaveher.com
Notes: I had a free hour and... some beer(s). Beta thanks to the lovely and charming![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
misswinterhill
"G'wan; do it," Boylan goaded the detective, the corner of his mouth turning up in a foul sneer. "You die, she lives. End of."
Matheson paused and felt a rivulet of sweat trace its way down the centre of his spine.
"She's all I have... left," he repeated uselessly. As if this fucking... animal cared about what was left of their family, though obviously he'd learnt enough to know how to hit him below the belt. An accident had taken Holly's mother, Sian, from them far too recently. God knows what Boylan had done to the caregiver he'd had to hire to watch his daughter after school while James had worked late nights tracking him. Ironic, that.
Boylan grinned at him then, teeth a feline flash, and Matheson fought back tears -- don't give the bastard the satisfaction; that's what he wants --then felt something... tip over in his head.
"Lady or the tiger," Matheson gasped.
"No time for stories. Time's passing. Forty-one seconds. Tick tick tick." The killer's cuffed wrists clanked against the interrogation room chair.
"No. The Lady or the Tiger. One choice, and it's me or it's Holly. Question is... who would you rather see die? Me or her?"
"Oh, I don't know... I'm rather fond of killing little girls."
"No. Not like this. You- you could've picked any random child off the street knowing we'd do all we could to save her. You chose Holly. Because you knew I was after you."
"And look what a lovely resolution we have." Boylan laughed.
Matheson glared at him, and turned his attention to the laptop screen, where Holly struggled against the chains.
"She'll die," Boylan spat. "Just like the last one. It's a quick death; shock and blood loss. But oh, she'll feel it, won't she? It's got to be agonising having limbs ripped off. She'll know what's happening to her. She'll wonder why her policeman hero daddy couldn't save her."
Matheson looked at Holly's image again, then swept his eyes back to Boylan. Banging came from the reinforced door behind him, along with Lyndon's voice shouting his name.
Swallowing hard, he raised his gun. He knew what he had to do. "You know no jury would convict," he said.
The time ran out on the countdown. On the screen, the chains loosed and Holly stood shakily and ran, disappearing from view.
Matheson smiled, quirked his head to the side, and aimed.
"No." Boylan tried to stand, but the shackles held fast, and all he was able to do was pitch the chair forward. "No, goddamn you! I wasn't going to kill her. I was never-"
"Doesn't matter, does it? CCTV's off. Key's broken off in the door. Your orders. Once you've got a hole in your skull, I'll just make it look like you picked the shackles, came at me and wrestled me for the gun."
Boylan stopped moving and gulped air as Matheson released the safety with a practised thumb. Bits and bytes and websites... Boylan could keep them. But steel and the power of a well-aimed projectile? Matheson could get behind that.
"See, you did your research, didn't you, Boylan? But you didn't realise that I might notice there's no way you could stop whatever you'd set up in that warehouse while chained to a fucking chair, whether I killed myself for your entertainment or not."
Boylan shut his eyes and grimaced. This time he didn't even try to pretend it was a smile.
Detective Matheson replaced the safety and holstered his gun as the door crashed in.
Characters: Vincent Boylan, Detective James Matheson
Rating: R
Word count: 593 (Hey, it's a web series, what do you want, a Girl Number 9 Big Bang?)
Summary: Alternate ending for Episode Six @ canyousaveher.com
Notes: I had a free hour and... some beer(s). Beta thanks to the lovely and charming
misswinterhill "G'wan; do it," Boylan goaded the detective, the corner of his mouth turning up in a foul sneer. "You die, she lives. End of."
Matheson paused and felt a rivulet of sweat trace its way down the centre of his spine.
"She's all I have... left," he repeated uselessly. As if this fucking... animal cared about what was left of their family, though obviously he'd learnt enough to know how to hit him below the belt. An accident had taken Holly's mother, Sian, from them far too recently. God knows what Boylan had done to the caregiver he'd had to hire to watch his daughter after school while James had worked late nights tracking him. Ironic, that.
Boylan grinned at him then, teeth a feline flash, and Matheson fought back tears -- don't give the bastard the satisfaction; that's what he wants --then felt something... tip over in his head.
"Lady or the tiger," Matheson gasped.
"No time for stories. Time's passing. Forty-one seconds. Tick tick tick." The killer's cuffed wrists clanked against the interrogation room chair.
"No. The Lady or the Tiger. One choice, and it's me or it's Holly. Question is... who would you rather see die? Me or her?"
"Oh, I don't know... I'm rather fond of killing little girls."
"No. Not like this. You- you could've picked any random child off the street knowing we'd do all we could to save her. You chose Holly. Because you knew I was after you."
"And look what a lovely resolution we have." Boylan laughed.
Matheson glared at him, and turned his attention to the laptop screen, where Holly struggled against the chains.
"She'll die," Boylan spat. "Just like the last one. It's a quick death; shock and blood loss. But oh, she'll feel it, won't she? It's got to be agonising having limbs ripped off. She'll know what's happening to her. She'll wonder why her policeman hero daddy couldn't save her."
Matheson looked at Holly's image again, then swept his eyes back to Boylan. Banging came from the reinforced door behind him, along with Lyndon's voice shouting his name.
Swallowing hard, he raised his gun. He knew what he had to do. "You know no jury would convict," he said.
The time ran out on the countdown. On the screen, the chains loosed and Holly stood shakily and ran, disappearing from view.
Matheson smiled, quirked his head to the side, and aimed.
"No." Boylan tried to stand, but the shackles held fast, and all he was able to do was pitch the chair forward. "No, goddamn you! I wasn't going to kill her. I was never-"
"Doesn't matter, does it? CCTV's off. Key's broken off in the door. Your orders. Once you've got a hole in your skull, I'll just make it look like you picked the shackles, came at me and wrestled me for the gun."
Boylan stopped moving and gulped air as Matheson released the safety with a practised thumb. Bits and bytes and websites... Boylan could keep them. But steel and the power of a well-aimed projectile? Matheson could get behind that.
"See, you did your research, didn't you, Boylan? But you didn't realise that I might notice there's no way you could stop whatever you'd set up in that warehouse while chained to a fucking chair, whether I killed myself for your entertainment or not."
Boylan shut his eyes and grimaced. This time he didn't even try to pretend it was a smile.
Detective Matheson replaced the safety and holstered his gun as the door crashed in.
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