Author: movieholic PM
I had a Profiler dream...Rated: Fiction K - English - Drama - Words: 1,445 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 07-31-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4438444
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
This is a DREAM I had a few days ago; it was interesting so I decided to post it up. Imagine the killer as Edgler Foreman Vess from Dean Koontz's Intensity (Actor John C. McGinley plays Edlger).
We see a large wooden cabin in a heavily forested area. There is a pool covered in ice outside, 2/3's of it is surrounded by a chain link fence. Snow covers the ground.
Suddenly we enter the cabin, we are a master bedroom where several VCTF agents are milling around searching the room. We clearly see George and John crouched on the floor beside the bed, both men lifting the mattress up and thrusting their hands in looking for something. They both reach the end of the bed unsuccessful, John stands up on his side and shakes his head. George pulls out a prescription pill bottle without a label and holds it up.
"Found something!" he says to John, the latter man standing at his side of the bed with his gloved hands on his hips.
John briskly walks over and gets on all fours next to George, grabbing the bottle. George, who remains crouching, shakes his head in wonderment. John holds the bottle under George's nose as if asking him to do the honors.
George shakes his head no, causing other agents to question him.
Meanwhile John has snatched the bottle back from underneath George's nose and placed his own into the bottle. We can clearly see his breath appear and disappear as he quickly exhales and inhales repeatedly.
"Look, it was years ago. We all did it; it was the cool thing to do. I'd just rather not do it now, okay?" he snaps (subconsciously I think I was referring to the time when George was addicted to pain killers, although I never saw those episodes).
Outside a tall, fit man with very short red hair and intense bluish gray eyes is hunting down a teenaged girl who is crying and skirting around the woods right outside the cabin. He finally catches her against a small snow bluff (a few yards away from the log cabin) grinning and flashing his knife.
"Nice try Missy." He taunts with a white, straight-toothed smile.
The girl kicks her leg out and hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble back enough for her to roll over and start running towards the pool crying hysterically.
George and the others stopped to watch John as he stood up, swaying somewhat vaguely. John then saunters over to a small group of agents who are talking about something. George sighs and stands up.
"Nathan!" John calls, waving his hand at his friend.
Nathan's head snaps up and he sees a jubilant John waving him over. John then says something, which is apparently funny when the small group erupts into echoing laughter. George shakes his head again.
Suddenly we're outside again where we see the killer has nearly caught the girl again when many FBI agents (including John, Bailey, George and Nathan) come out shouting and holding up their certified guns. The killer grins, and wields his knife. John is on the opposite side of the pool by now, with Bailey and two other men.
The girl freaks out and manages to push the killer into the pool, the killer continues laughing and grinning, having managed to squeeze one shot off that hit John Grant in the gut. He stumbled back and fell hard on the snowy ground. His eyes have rolled back into his head and he starts shaking slightly.
"John!" Bailey shouted, his deep voice reverberating in the wilderness. Nathan, Bailey and other agents darted forward and crouched next to John's body.
The girl crouched next to the pool certain the killer was dead from the cold. The killer jumps out and places a dog tag into her palm (we assume it's John's even though he wasn't near him) and escapes. The agents realize too late he escaped, and that John is 'dead.'
20 YEARS LATER:
John is in a dark bar and looks around, sipping from his beer. He looks to his right and sees a young man and woman flirting. The man raises an eyebrow and jerks his head to the small dance floor, where three-four other people are dancing slowly in the near darkness. The girl giggles and says, "Yeah." They get up to dance.
John shakes his head and smiles. He looks to his left and sees a well-lit corridor leading to rooms. Everything is made of wood. There is an older man tending at the bar, he looks friendly and nice. A young woman goes up to him and says, "Hey, Professor!"
The man (wearing glasses and his bald on the top of his head) nods his head in greeting as he wipes his hands on the white towel slung over his left shoulder. He wipes his hands together then approaches John, and sits next to him at the bar.
"Hey, Donald. How are you?" he asks nicely.
John sips from his beer and shrugs, "Never better."
The young woman sits across from John at the bar, looking at the two professors with a grin.
"Hey Professor Donald."
"Hello. Shouldn't you guys be in your dorms now?" John asked, half smiling.
The young woman laughed and shook her head.
"So where you from, Donald?" asked the Professor (Glusco).
John hesitated, sipped and answered, "Boston."
"Yeah, Boston, uh, Massachusetts."
"Where were you born and raised?"
"Boston." John sipped from his beer and looked over the young woman's shoulder, avoiding her looks and Glusco's. Glusco continued questioning him.
"What was your job before you came here?" he asked, smiling still.
"I was a cop." He answered simply.
"Really? Why'd you become a professor?" asked the young woman.
"I had something happen to me…" he trailed off uncomfortably.
Glusco had a knowing look on his face, but the young woman named as many things as she could, "Fired? Divorce? Moved? Retired?"
"Um, did you get hurt? Were you forced to leave? Accident?" Glusco joined in stupidly. They both went on for a few minutes till John slammed his hand down and whispered, "I was shot," in a dangerously low voice.
They were silent till Glusco said, "I thought it was so, but then again I thought it was too cool and obvious to say."
John, confused glanced at Glusco, sipped his beer and looked away.
"You don't look like a cop, you do look fit though." Glusco stated, motioning to the slightly gray hair at John's temples. Save for that and a few creases on his face, John looked very young and the same as 20 years ago.
John fished in his pocket for a picture as he said, "I still look about the same."
Grunting, he managed to pull out a crumpled picture of himself in uniform.
"You're hot!" the woman gushed, looking at John with wide eyes and a grin.
John gave her a small smile.
"Are your parents around?" Glusco asked.
John had a flashback of his father beating him, his mother's funeral…
"No," he muttered, "My father was…how do I put it…an asshole that didn't deserve a breath on this Earth and I hated him and my mother."
John paled quickly as he muttered, "No. I didn't hate my mother…I loved her. My father beat me as a kid."
"That's sad." Whispered Nancy (the young woman).
George and Bailey are in the command center, George typing at his computer when he receives a small package from an agent. He opens it and pales, he nudges Bailey at his side and says, "Bailey?"
He hands him the dog tag that was in the small box. Bailey plays with it in his hands, his face grave.
"Do you ever think he's alive? Have this feeling that he's alive and out there?" George whispered.
Bailey nodded slowly as he said, "I wanted to believe I didn't lose John Grant…sometimes I make myself think he's on a long vacation…I have my feelings he's still alive…yeah."
He said as he toyed with the silver dog tag. Something new has been engraved on the worn, silver dog tag:
It was a really weird dream, and I know the writing is different.
The styles change and all that crap, I know.
I'm just trying to help you see what I saw.