Myrna had watched her whole life, her entire tiny life, as her father went through the same vicious cycle over and over again. He'd come in the house half boozed or all the way gone, and go straight into grumbling about how much he deserved and about how much little respect he got. He would inevitably fill her and her mother in on some fellow comrade in the UN Peace Federation. Her father was a captain, though at her young age she couldn't fathom how he had climbed to such ranks with such obviously despicable behavior. What she didn't realize is that she and her mother were alone in the plight against the despicable Captain Jon Fletcher.
truth was that he had barely lifted a finger in his life, much to the
dismay of his parents. They had tried so hard to raise a child befitting
of their prestigious lineage, but all they ever got from him were half
baked results and an attitude of superiority. They had always begged for
others to be as hard on him as needed, but he would just remind them of
who he was and what his last name meant. He was the father of Admiral
Fletcher, the highest ranking officer in the UN Peace Federation, the
UN's only military, which governed all of earth and all of the galaxy.
That his father and uncle had fought side-by-side in the last war earth
had known, and by his name they'd never see another war so long as there
was a Fletcher in the Federation. And then, he would be ushered on to
his appropriate billing.
were facts, as far as little Myrna was concerned, and the fact was that
Captain Jon Fletcher was none other than Coward Jon Fletcher. A woman
beater, a child beater, and a deadbeat drunk all around.
was no surprise to Myrna when her father burst in the door on a
Saturday night, drunk and with another drink in his hand. She had
learned to detect the smell of liquor, and recognized that there was
something different about the way he smelled that night. It was a
mixture of liquor and something sweet, which she couldn't put her finger
on right away. Her mother entered the living room just as Jon fell on
the couch, and without thinking before she spoke, she inadvertently
accused him of infidelity.
"Is that perfume?" She asked, and then literally bit her lip.
eyes whitened and he corked his head up at her. "And what if it is?
What if it is perfume? What are you gonna do about it?" He threw the
bottle on the floor and came out of the couch. He stood up to her and
grabbed by the neck. "I work all day. I work all day protecting idiots
like you. I work ALL day for scum like you. You don't even know what I
go through. You don't know what I see, EVERY DAY. You don't know what
it's like on the front lines." She was choking for air and her knees
began to give out on her as she begged for forgiveness. He bent his
knees with her, pulling her face down onto the coffee table. There he
continued his verbal assault inches from her eyes. One hand was choking
her, the other pressed her head against the glass of the coffee table.
"Scum... scum like you. That's what I do. FOR YOU. You can't even
appreciate what I do. What I see. What I know. So YEAH... I have to
shake it off. At the end of the day, I have to shake the filth of this
world off. Because I know when I come home to you, you insufferable...
you..." He leaned in to ear and whispered. "Dog vomit."
had been screaming the whole time, as was her custom during these
tirades, but tonight nothing was getting through to her father. Usually,
she could get him to balance his wrath between the two thus preventing
any overkill on either her or her mother. But tonight he wouldn't hear
her. He hadn't even acknowledged her existence with a glance of those
black eyes of his.
watched in horror as her mother gasped for air and he continued to rail
on her about how it was all her fault, and Federation's fault that he
was an adulterer. Suddenly there was a slight moment of peace where
Myrna drowned out her father and met her mother eye to eye. She watched
her mother lip the words You will live moments before a blood vessel popped in her eye, filling it with blood. Seconds later her body was limp.
soon as Jon recognized his wife was dead he felt a cold rush over his
body. He let go of her and stood straight up over her. He could see her
bloody eye staring up at him. A single tear of blood escaped and ran
over her nose. He kicked her to the floor. "Quit staring at me!" He
screamed. There were a thousand thoughts flooding his mind, and none of
them were putting him to ease with the situation. He was confused and
afraid. He had played this drama out so many times before, why now did
she give in? He had never felt her give up before.
he could figure out his next step, he felt a long, sharp pain in his
leg. He grunted instinctively and grabbed at the pain. His hand latched
onto a small, warm hand. He looked and saw Myrna standing beside him
with a face of extreme hate. He could see in her eyes that she intended
to kill him. He followed her arms with his eyes and saw that she plunged
a kitchen knife in his leg, and he grabbed a hold of her hands that
pulled his hand back and backhanded her face with all of his might. She
fell to the floor, losing the grip of the knife. He towered over her,
while she tried to get back to her feet. "So you think you can take me,
huh? Well, come on! Let's see what you got?"
was seeing spots. She shook her head, trying to get her vision back.
She had to finish this once and for all. She was not going to be another
victim of Coward Jon Fletcher. And she would see her mother avenged,
one way or another.
"COME ON!" He shouted at her. "You can take me now, or end up like--"
had stopped speaking abruptly, and she turned around to make sure she
wasn't in immediate danger. She blinked twice, and got half of her
vision back. She could see clearly, but only in black and white. Her
father stood staring across the room at his own father, who stood firmly
in the doorway to the living room. Admiral Fletcher was twice the size
of his son in muscle, and stern as an ox.
"What's going on here?" He asked.
began to stutter, which was his custom when he knew he was in hot
water. "Well, it was an accident. She, she must have been stressed, I
guess. She came, came at me with this knife and--"
"THAT'S A LIE!" Myrna yelled.
lost it and came limping at her, but Fletcher stepped between them and
caught him. "Dad, stop, she's crazy. Can't you see?! She killed Lana and
now she's trying to kill me with this knife!"
pushed him onto the couch, and he screamed in pain as the knife
scratched against the bone. Fletcher then turned to Myrna, and spoke
directly to her, only inches away from her face. His tone was always
calm and warm. "Honey, I need you to go to your room. Look yourself in
and don't come out for anyone, but me. Got it?" She nodded. He kissed
her on the forehead and she went down the hallway to her room. She
closed the door, and waited until she heard voices again. She cracked
the door open just enough that she could see her father sitting on the
couch. He was looking up at her grandfather, pleading and begging. He
kept telling stories about how he had come home to a bloodbath, and how
he thought that she must have gotten the bad gene from her uncle. A
shadow came closer and closer to her father until he was completely
covered in it.
had heard enough of his son's rantings, and excuses. He and his wife
were certain for some time there was something afoot in the home, but he
had been yet to prove it. It had only been the night before that they
had decided in bed, he would start making uninvited house calls. They
were hoping one day he could walk in something, but he wasn't expecting
this. Not murder.
had failed their son, they had failed their daughter. It was time to
cut the tie that bound them, because he was not gonna fail his
came at him with a father's wrath, but unhinged, without borders. This
was no longer his son, this was some scumbag wife killer. And there
wasn't much room in the world for lady killers. He pinned him to the
couch with one hand pressing against his shoulder, and began to assault
his face with a fist. He pounded his face harder and harder, like he had
done once before when he found a stray drunk in an alley standing over a
dead hooker. And like that drunk, Jon didn't fight back, he just threw
his hands up and begged for mercy. They hadn't shown mercy, and they
weren't getting it from him.
stood up straight and backed away from him. He fell over onto the couch
crying, holding his face with one hand and his leg with the other.
Fletcher spoke wearily. "I'm gonna call The Order. They're gonna come
here and arrest you for murder, child abuse and attempted murder on a
"Dad, please, no!" Jon sat up, begging for mercy.
kicked the handle of the knife sticking out of his leg, and his head
shot back in pain. "You let me finish talking, or I'll kill you myself."
Jon went back to crying, but chewed his lip in pain. "When they get
here, I will testify to what you have done, and Myrna will testify to
what you have done. When they call us before the courts, we will both
testify to the heinous crime you have committed and to the monster you
are. You will never see your daughter again, except when she is throwing
you to the wolves. And the last time you see me and your mother, is
when you are executed for your crimes. Nothing will be held back, no one
will give you a pass. It will be just and dispassionate." Though he
spoke these words firmly, and meant every last one, he couldn't help but
tear up. He wiped the tears from his face with no change in his
demeanor. "You lived a pathetic life, and for that I am sorry."
was still watching from the door, and her heart beat with excitement.
Finally, Coward Jon Fletcher was going to get his due justice.
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