FallonThis was probably my hardest mission yet. My first failed mission.Being a good mother.My eyes never left my son’s unconscious body, his baggy under eyes and dry lips only the surface signs of his deep-rooted fatigue. The patient monitor beside him steadily beeped indicating his stable state, but I can’t be convinced otherwise. My son is in pain. My maternal instincts are telling me so. However, nobody knows what is causing him pain. It is only a matter of time before they do, before they come across the perfect diagnosis…but, will my son hold out til then?“He always wanted to go to school,” I muttered, my eyes still on Sebby, but I knew someone else in the room could hear me.“He can read, speak, and form coherent phrases, solve basic math, and identify a lot of objects. I knew he was different from other kids. But he’s only three…”My voice broke.“I’ve heard how difficult your labor was. I’m…sorry.”“Don’t be. It was my fault for not taking care of my body. He was born wea
[Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, abortion, and depression. Please skip if you feel uncomfortable.]Fallon“It’s been two days since he woke up.”I crossed my arms over my chest, watching Sebby’s sleeping form. His parched lips remained shut and his under-eye bags the darkest they’ve ever been; he’s not getting any better.From beside me, Matt continued, “Michael is worried at home. I couldn’t keep it from him anymore. Sebby…his condition isn’t looking good.”“I know.” My voice was barely audible.“The doctors are doing the best they can to figure out what’s happening to him. He’ll be better in no time. I’m sure.”“Jess…” he trailed off and sighed.“We knew this was not a common cold. And… we knew this was coming. He always had a weak immune system and sporadic breath shortages. Let’s tell the doctors, Jess.”I sharply turned to him, irritated. “Tell them what?”He softly stared at me, despite my narrowed eyes. He quietly answered.“Tell them… your attempt to abort Sebby. And you
FallonLife is full of surprises.I’ve just gotten comfortable with the thought of retirement and being a deserter, yet here comes a ghost of my past, as if slapping me harshly with a ‘bitch, you can’t escape this life’. It’s come back to haunt me with the overcast of justified murder and twisted morals seen upright by the government.“Fox,” I repeated in a hushed whisper, gripping the phone tightly. “Fox…it’s you?”[Y-yes, remember me?] he stuttered; hearing the change in my tone. [Hawk…it’s been so long. How are you doing?]“How did you reach me? I cut off all possible connections.”My hands dropped to the phone’s coil cord, twisting them anxiously with my fingers. The dim lamp by the lounge was the only lit light currently, and it helped console my foreboding anger. I could feel it. The rage I felt months ago, the pit of despair I fell into after realizing how poorly I’ve been treated.[Nevermind that Hawk, I want to know how you’re doing over there. It must be so cold, right? It’
FallonSebby was isolated for a few weeks and every day was difficult.I’d hear him coughing violently and crying for the pain, and my heart would ache. We were allowed to visit at limited times only and only if we wore proper gear; masks, hospital gowns, and gloves. I tried to understand their strict policies, because my son was, after all, not carrying any other illness. It was pneumonia. And it was contagious.During those hard times, Jett never left my side. And in those times together, we had small talks. About everything.I discovered he’s been seeing a therapist and getting therapy after getting diagnosed with PTSD. I also shared my clinically diagnosed illness, depression. He shared how he lived the past years—jumping from one country to another, slowly but surely shrugging the Interpol off his tracks and his constant temptations to turn to drug abuse during his darkest times. I could only imagine how heavy of a toll the events took on him.I felt relieved he was getting treat
During one Monday night, a man looked over the night city from his skyscraper penthouse’s balcony.New York was a little quieter.Los Angeles is so much more.Like the fire keeping it ablaze has been extinguished. The man should feel relieved; however, he cannot fully rest until he sees their corpses. The Rios mafia was a dangerous bunch until just recently. The world must think they’re safe from their schemes, but as long as the head is still alive, it can always find its way back to its body—or create a new one. He cannot fully feel relieved until he sees their corpses with his own eyes. After all, the only one that can compromise his position is him.“Mr. President,” called his secretary.“They’ve contacted the agent involved with the Rios siege, however, she refused to come back. Will we still proceed with the joint mission?”The man, allegedly the President, scoffed.“That arrogant bitch. Who does she think she is, refusing to come back? Kill her.”“…”He turned to his secretary
In his condo unit, a young man’s eyes remained glued to the screen as he surfed through the deep web. He clicked around the site for a while before finally landing on the aircraft black market.“Found you,” he muttered under his breath. He stared at the black private jet, the same model that was confiscated by the government from the Rios’ large hangar of planes. “What’s that?”Suddenly asked the woman from beside him. Her voluminous auburn curls bobbed up as she leaned closer to look at the monitor. Fox, surprised, turned the laptop away from her. The woman pouted.“I’m your girlfriend. Can’t I see what’s keeping you preoccupied?”“I-It’s work, babe,” he reasoned and moved away.“This will be done soon, promise.”The woman fell quiet, understanding how confidential his work should be. The ginger lady knows how dangerous the things he does are. So, she kept quiet and observed as Fox typed away. Honestly, she immediately recognized the dark web and saw him about to buy a jet worth mil
Warning: mature content.He returned to the hospital that morning, Fallon looking out the window with crossed arms and a troubled expression.“Sebastian’s asleep?” he asks. “The nurses should be checking up on him in…” He checked his watch. “34 minutes.”She nodded faintly. “He’s sound asleep in the other room.”“Great. He needs to rest,” he says and sneakily hugs her from behind. Fallon merely moves her hand and places it over his. He murmurs in her ear after sneaking a kiss, “You should rest too.” She didn’t answer. He hasn’t noticed yet, and kept raining her with light kisses. The heater inside the bedroom of the suite made the perfect temperature, Jett thought. However, it seemed like his wife was not in the mood.She spoke for the first time in a while.“I was doing some thinking,” she says. “I’m worried for Sebby’s safety.”He hummed muffledly, his mouth in the crook of her shoulder.She continued, “We’re hoping we’re the only targets, but they may know about Sebby. And they ca
The quiet days that passed added to Fallon and Jett’s restlessness. They spent their remaining solitude getting everything ready and leaving no space for mistakes. One little slip-up could cost the entire plan to go down the drain. As Fallon looked out the window by Sebby’s room, wearing her n95 mask and gown, the door slowly opened. Her eyes watched as the nurse, a brunette and petite girl, came in with a clipboard in hand.“Good morning,” the nurse greeted and neared Sebby’s sleeping form. “I’ll just be checking his vitals.”Fallon nodded and leaned her back on the window, crossing her arms as she turned to fully watch the nurse. She could speak English fluently and was unnaturally smooth with her actions. The spy. It was likely she was the one who planted the bugs behind the TV. The woman was visibly intimidated by her undivided attention. She wasted no effort in instilling her daunting presence and taming the nurse’s boldness.Eventually, the nurse left with tensed shoulders – gri