Ben's bedroom

Alexandria, VA

Ripley household

Sunday

0900 hours

DISCLAIMER: Due to the dark nature of this part of the story (i.e., suicidal thoughts, self-harm, blood - TRIGGER WARNING), I hope you are mature enough to read this.  If you aren't, skip this chapter.  You have been warned.

Ben POV

I woke up in the last place I thought possible: my old bedroom in Virginia?

I looked around: everything was there. Same dresser, same photos with Mike and my family, same math competition trophies. The smell of pancakes wafts into the room.

"Ben! Breakfast is ready!" I heard my mom call. I grinned and leapt out of bed. I quickly changed into my street clothes and rushed downstairs, where my dad, mom, older brother, and younger sister were waiting. My siblings, Jill and Charles, were arguing over something (as usual...), my mom was making pancakes, and my dad was reading the paper and drinking coffee. My mom served us all pancakes, and we dug in.

It felt wonderful: breakfast with my family was almost always a good time. My siblings usually told us the better parts of the comic strips while my parents and I worked together on puzzles.

Once we were finished, my parents stood up, telling us to wash the dishes while they got ready for work. We obeyed, prepping to do our chores. Eventually, my parents came down in their work clothes, ready to open up their store. I was joking around with my siblings when I glanced at the calendar. Then the clock.

I frowned. It was Sunday at 10:00 AM. They only had the store open from 1:00-6:00 PM, and even then, they only left to prepare for customers at 12:00 PM.

I suddenly felt something shift around me. I looked down, and I realized that I was wearing black cargo pants, a black T-shirt, and a black tactical vest. There was a sidearm strapped to my side. My eyes widened as I realized what was happening.

The front door slowly opened as I rushed to stop my parents from leaving the house.

But by the time I got there, it was too late. Joshua Hallal was there at the door in all his well-dressed pirate glory, but with a twist. His metal parts were dripping with blood and he had a wicked smile on his face. He was surrounded by black smoke.

I instinctively drew my sidearm. I wasn't letting this pathetic excuse of a human escape me. "Mom, Dad, get down!" I shouted.

Hallal's smile grew wider as he reached out with his hook faster than I could react. Black smoke rushed into the room, consuming my parents. It went further behind me and got Jill and Charles. It surrounded me as I tried to shoot, but my gun misfired, failing to discharge.

I was transported into a new room. One filled with mirrors and black smoke.

"Not this again... not this again... please, God, not this again..." I muttered to myself.

The Glock 19 was still in my hand. I removed the magazine to see all fifteen rounds in it. I placed it back in the gun, and it was ready to fire.

"Come out, you coward!" I yelled, holding my pistol in front of me.

"Why should I?" said a disembodied voice at my 9 o'clock. I turned left to see Hallal. I put a bullet in his skull and he dissipated into white smoke. The white smoke hung around.

"Show yourself!" I demanded.

"But I am!" said Hallal, who emerged at my original 3 o'clock. I shot him again, only for him to turn into white smoke, again.

"Tell me, Ben..." 6 o'clock. BANG.

"Why do you fight such a battle?" 8 o'clock. BANG.

"When it's futile?" 2 o'clock. BANG.

"When you're used..." 4 o'clock. BANG.

"By the very people you protect?" 7 o'clock. BANG.

"When you get..." 11 o'clock. BANG.

"No appreciation?" 10 o'clock. BANG.

"When all you experience is loss..." 5 o'clock. BANG.

"Of all your friends..." 1 o'clock. BANG.

"And family?" 12 o'clock. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. This apparition of Hallal looked more solid, so I shot him in the head and center mass twice each.

He didn't dissipate immediately, however. He just looked at his wounds in a mirror and turned back to me and grinned, blood dripping from his wounds and his mouth.

"You've become a decent shot. About time! But your marksmanship will be your death. You'll see. There is still one round in the chamber. Now, suffer!" he hissed, dissipating into a much larger clump of smoke.

I didn't even remove the magazine. I somehow felt that the gun had one more bullet, even though I knew I fired all fifteen rounds.

Then, the white smoke began to glow blood-red, and I knew what was about to happen.

'Not this... not this... please! No!' I mentally pleaded.

The smoke clouds at 1:00-3:00 formed into the dead bodies of the CIA Director, the UK Prime Minister, and the President of the United States. Their ghosts stared at me with hatred.

"You got us killed. Your incompetence and hesitancy caused you to screw up. You have failed your nation, traitor!" they shouted in unison before fading.

At 4:00, Cyrus's body formed. "I can't believe I had even a little faith in you as a agent," he murmured.

At 5:00-6:00 were Alexander and Catherine. "We treated you like a son, and you killed us!" they yelled.

At 7:00-8:00 were Chip and Jawa. "We trusted you. We called you a friend," they muttered.

At 9:00 was Zoe. "I can't believe I ever liked you, you rotten excuse for a human!" she shrieked.

At 10:00 was Mike. "I treated you like the brother I never had! You worthless freak!" he roared.

At 11:00 was Erica. "I liked you. But I shouldn't have. You're just another Joshua, you traitor!" growled.

"You killed us! You have failed your friends, traitor!" they shouted in unison before fading.

At 12:00, the last four formed: Dad, Mom, Charles, Jill. "Why did you join the world of espionage? You had a good life! Your selfishness got us all killed, murderer!" they shouted in unison before fading.

The smoke was gone but the images were burned into my mind, along with the voices.

"Murderer, traitor, villain," they chanted.

I clutched my head and chest in agony, the pain hurting me in my head and my heart. It was as if my emotional and mental pain manifested itself physically.

I dropped to my knees, crying my eyes out. The voices were right. Hallal was right. I was a murderer. A traitor. A villain. I killed them all.

"Pay for your crimes," chanted the voices. "Pay!"

I looked at the gun.

'One in the chamber is all it takes,' I thought solemnly as I reached for the Glock. I had to pay for what I did. Only by paying with my blood, my body, my soul, would I find peace.

I closed my eyes and pressed the muzzle to my head.

'One in the chamber.'

And then I awoke.

Ben POV (Real World)

I sat bolt upright, breathing heavily. I looked around to try and figure out where I was.

I was sitting on a couch. Alexander and Catherine were fast asleep on either side of me, their arms wrapped around me.

I looked around some more: it was 2:22 AM according to a digital clock, and everything was dark, save a bit of moonlight coming in through the reinforced window. My eyes finally landed on Alexander's desk. Or rather, a certain something on Alexander's desk.

His partially disassembled Glock 19. The same model as the one in the—oh Lord, the nightmares! The memories came running back to me. I failed my country. I failed my friends. I failed my family. They were already gone thanks to SPYDER's assassins, a final order from Hallal to be executed a year and a half ago.

I couldn't stand it. These nightmares had been going on for so long. I could barely keep myself sane, let alone keep up a normal appearance.

'Not so normal, since you got noticed!' whispered my mind.

I knew what I had to do.

I quietly removed myself from the couple's arms, creeping towards the desk. Luckily, they didn't wake up. I took a deep breath and began assembling the weapon, which I had practice with. Once again, it was a miracle they didn't awake. All that was left was ammunition. I pulled back the action and quietly rummaged through the desk, eventually finding a full magazine.

I picked it up, looking at it. A small part of me said that this was wrong, and to wake up Catherine and Alexander fast, and get their help. But the majority won out. They couldn't help me. If the dreams were any indication, they wouldn't.

They shouldn't.

I had to pay for what I did to my family. I loaded the magazine.

Unfortunately, I forgot that once the handgun is loaded, the slide moves back into place with a loud "click."

And it's a sound that Alexander and Catherine wake up to by instinct.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:

The story will continue, but I wanted to bring up a serious point that applies in the real world.  So if you can, spread the word.

I've put the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline below.  It's a 24/7 hotline run by people whose mission is to help those in emotional distress or a suicidal crisis.  It is completely free and confidential.

Please, if you know anyone that needs this, send this to them and encourage them to make the call and get help.  If you see any signs of someone trying to harm themselves or others, get help immediately.  It could save someone's life.

24/7 Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

Next chapter will be up by Monday or Tuesday.

Drop a question if you've got one.

Until next time.  Stay safe!

- ADF-2