A Christmas Story
by Trace
Nikita placed the key into the lock, and turned the tumbler. As she did, she
gripped the door handle, and turned it as well. The door slowly and smoothly
swung open, and granted her access. She crossed the threshold, and turning,
closed the door quietly behind her.
She turned and walked over to the kitchenette's counter, and tossed her keys
and purse down. Then she reached behind her, and removed the gun that was tucked
into her waistband. She stopped in mid-motion to look at it. She thought to
herself, "how many people have I killed with this gun? How many lives have I
taken, all in the name of the greater good?" She turned the gun over and over
in her hands, then tossed it onto the counter with her keys and purse.
Walking over to her stereo, she pushed the 'on' button. The small room was suddenly
filled with the sounds of cheerful and merry carolers, as the radio station
played it usual seasonal selections. Nikita, turning the tuning knob, was unable
to find anything other than seasonal music, so resigned herself, and turned
off the radio. She looked casually through her CD collection, and gave up there
as well.
She looked around the room, as if looking for something to do, and found nothing.
Pacing the floor for a few moments, she walked over to her french doors, and
opened them. She walked out onto the balcony, and looked out over the city.
She leaned up against the brick wall, and the breeze blew through her hair.
It was a bitter cold breeze, and Nikita was chilled, but she didn't move. She
just stood, with her eyes closed, and breathed in the air. Then, after a while,
she spoke to the breeze, as if it were a living entity. "Why do I live, and
others die? Why am I allowed to go on, when I make no difference one way or
the other in this world?" she questioned. She paused, as if awaiting a reply.
"I do not understand. I should be the one dying, not the people that I kill...not
the innocents. I should not even exist. What difference do I make in this life?"
she moaned.
Embracing herself, and rubbing her hands on her arms to try to warm up, she
turned and walked back into her apartment. Closing the french doors behind her,
and turning the deadbolt, she looked around. She hated the holidays, but even
more so, this year she was more depressed. She had seen too much death, both
caused by her, or a result of her actions. She did not know how much longer
she could endure it all.
Thinking maybe that a glass of wine would calm her down, and help her to sleep,
she walked over to the kitchenette and reached up into a cabinet. Taking down
a wine glass, she proceeded to open the refrigerator door. Removing a wine bottle,
she poured herself a glass, then placed the bottle back into the fridge and
closed the door. Halfheartedly picking up the wine glass, she meandered back
over to the couch, and plopped down. After drinking almost all the wine, she
sat the glass down on the table, and decided to stretch out on the couch. She
wasn't really sleepy, just slightly lethargic from the effects of the wine.
She hadn't really meant to go to sleep, but somehow she managed to. It was then,
that the 'dream' began. A 'dream' that would forever alter her perceptions and
expectations in life.
Nikita awoke with a start, and sat bolt upright. Her eyes, wide in surprise, snapped open and shut, in quick succession. As she raised her hand to her head, and swung her legs over the edge of the couch, her french doors suddenly blew open.
Nikita jerked her head around, and stood up. Looking to the doorway, she was momentarily entranced by what she saw. A heavy mist rolled up over the railing on the balcony, and through the threshold of the door. Nikita watched it as it began to cover the floor of the apartment in a white shroud. Looking down, she just watched as the mist encircled her feet, and small tendrils of the white vapor licked at her ankles.
Suddenly the hairs on the back of Nikita's neck raised, and she lifted her gaze. She inhaled, and covered her mouth with her hand. Standing in the door way, just off of the balcony was a tall, broad, familiar figure. As the figure moved forward, Nikita only stared.
Realizing that she had been holding her breath, Nikita moved her hand from her mouth, and placed it on her chest, inhaling a deep, uneven breath. "I don't understand. How can this be?" Nikita asked the figure, in a very unsteady, very uneven tone. The figure only continued to advance towards her. Then, when it was within a few feet of Nikita, the figured stopped. Reaching up, the figure placed its hand on Nikita cheek, and smiled. "Hello," the figure said, "I have missed you my love." A tear formed in Nikita's eye, and slowly trickled down her cheek. "Jurgen?" Nikita said.
Jurgen only continued to caress Nikita's cheek. He was dressed all in white, and he had an unearthly, unnatural glow about him. He looked happy, and content. He just stood, smiling at Nikita. He didn't say anything, just caressed her cheek, and smiled.
Nikita, raising her hand, and placing it over Jurgen's, looked at him in bewilderment. "How can this be? You are dead. I watched the explosion myself." Nikita stated. Jurgen smiled sadly, and slowly shook his head. "The how is not important right now, only the why. I am here because you are in distress and pain. Your soul is crying out for answers, and for release." Nikita dropped her gaze from Jurgen's and looked at the floor. Jurgen took his hand from Nikita's cheek, and she looked up. "Just a little depressed I guess. Must be the holidays." she said, with a slightly amused tone to her voice.
Jurgen's only answer was to slowly step back from her. "Nikita. You have made more of an impact on the world and those around you than you even know. And that is why I am here." Nikita only looked at Jurgen. Jurgen looked to the balcony, and back to Nikita. Then, reaching out his hand, he gestured for her to come to him. "Where are we going?" she asked. "I am going to show you how things might have been, had you not existed," Jurgen replied. Nikita took hold of Jurgen's hand, and he lead her to the balcony. As they stepped over the threshold, the mist enveloped them.
This time, when Nikita stepped out of the bright light that had once again enveloped her and Jurgen, her eyes adjusted much faster. But, on closer view, it was because the area in which they had just stepped into was very dimly lit. Upon closer inspection, she noticed that they had been deposited in one of the many hallways of Section. And, the whole area was just barely lit, by way of what appeared to be emergency lighting.
Nikita slowly stepped forward, and looked all around her. Then, after a few seconds, she turned and looked back over her shoulder. "What happened? Why is it so dark?" she asked. Jurgen walked up to her, and looking down, frowned. "That is the emergency lighting. It is the only electrical supply left. Once it burns itself out, the whole place will be engulfed in darkness," he replied.
As they continued to walk down the corridor, they had to sidestep metal panels lying on the floors, and conduits hanging from the ceilings. There were pieces of debris scattered everywhere. "This place looks like a war zone," Nikita commented. Jurgen chuckled slightly. Nikita looked back at him, with a look of puzzlement. "That is a very good observation. In a way, that is exactly what this is," he stated. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. As they rounded the corner, and entered the lobby, Nikita was shocked by what she saw. The room was completely void of any other living soul. The computer monitors were all black, and the emergency lights were casting a very eerie glow over everything. "Jurgen, has Section been breached?" Nikita asked, as she continued to walk forward. "Yes," he replied, "but not in the way in which you are thinking." Nikita stopped and turned. "Then what happened?" Jurgen walked past Nikita, and stopped at the end of one of Walter's work benches. "Do you remember the mission that you, Michael and Mowen undertook to Scotland?" he asked. "Yes, to destroy a supposed RED CELL munitions site," Nikita replied. "Do you remember what happened then?" Nikita stared at Jurgen, and then as realization dawned on her, her eyes widened. "The virus! Mowen carried it back to Section!" Jurgen just nodded in reply. "But, Michael and I found the developer of the virus, and brought back the antidote," she started. "In your reality yes. But in this reality, a reality in which you do not exist, Michael was already dead. And, since there was no one left on the outside, after Mowen returned with the virus, no one was there to get the antidote."
Nikita started to slowly pace, making a large circle encompassing Jurgen. "Then, everyone, who was in Section...," her voice trailed off. "Oh my gawd..." she whispered. Jurgen followed her with his eyes, then spoke. "You see Nikita. You have had a profound impact on those around you. You have been of more influence than you would have ever known." Nikita stopped pacing, and looked to Jurgen. Tears were once again running down her cheeks. "And you Jurgen. Did you die in this reality?" she asked. Jurgen smiled, then laughed. "I was wondering how long it would take before you got around to that question," he replied. "And the answer is, yes. I did die in this reality. But my death was on Section's terms, and not on my own." Nikita only continued to look at him. "In this reality, I did not die by my own hand, so as to say. I was taken to the white room, and after Madeline and her 'experts' had finished with me, I was cancelled. So, you see, you not only helped me to die on my own terms, I got to spend some of my last days in your company."
Nikita slowly walked up to Jurgen, and when she got within a few inches of him stopped. She then leaned in, and kissed him lightly. He did not return her kiss, and she pulled back. Looking him in the eyes, she placed her hand on his cheek. "I have missed you Jurgen," she whispered softly. "I have missed you too, Nikita," he replied. "But, I am not what you think I am. I am not the man you knew. I have transcended to another existence. I can never go back to who or what I was." Nikita shook her head in understanding. "Yes, I know. But you have given me something that I thought I had lost," she stated. "You given me back my hope...my very soul." Jurgen smiled, and raising his hand, brushed the back of his knuckles across Nikita's cheek.
Then, with a saddened look, he backed up from her. Nikita, not understanding, advanced towards Jurgen. Jurgen raised his hand, in a gesture telling her to stop. "I have to go now my love. I have shown you all that I can. The choice is now yours." Then, before Nikita could reply, a bright light engulfed Jurgen, and he disappeared.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nikita sat bolt upright, and looked wildly around the room. She was disoriented, and it took her a moment to get her bearings. When she had, she realized that she was in her apartment, once again. She was sitting on her couch. She turned and looked to the french doors, but they were securely closed and fastened. Realizing that what had just transpired must have been a dream, she inhaled deeply, trying to calm her anxiety and nerves. She swung her legs over the edge of the couch, and resting her elbows on her knees, placed her head in her hands. At that very moment, her cell phone rang, and Nikita jumped. Moving to stand, she swiftly crossed the apartment, and removed the phone from her purse. Flipping it open, she listened. "Josephine?" the caller said. Nikita paused for a moment. "Josephine?" the caller said again, with a hint of worry in his tone. "Michael?" Niktia replied. "How, where," she stammered. "Nikita, is everything okay?" he questioned.
Nikita smiled to herself. "Yeah, everything is fine. I will be right there. And Michael?" There was a momentary pause. "Yes," he replied. "Merry Christmas." she said cheerfully. She then closed the phone, and placing it back in her purse, looked down. Lying on the counter, next to her purse and keys, was her gun. Picking it up, and testing its weight, she turned it over and over in her hand. Then, clicking on the safety, she moved it behind her, and placed it into the waistband of her pants. She picked up her purse and keys, and turned to head for the door. As she did, something small and shiny caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.
She walked over to her coffee table, and looked down. Lying next to the empty wine glass, was a small silver ring. Leaning over, Nikita picked it up, and examined it. It was the ring that Jurgen had worn. The one that he had the little habit of taking off and fidgeting with. She just stood, looking at the ring for a while. Then, she placed the ring back down on the table, and smiling, left the apartment.
After she had closed the door behind her, a bright light formed, and shined down on the ring. Then, a voice, as if from far off, spoke. "Enjoy life to its fullest my love. I will miss you, my Nikita."
THE END