Fifty-Five
Jason wished that he could recapture the numbness he'd felt while watching the dead bodies of his fellow mob soldiers get swallowed up by the gaping jaws of the incinerator. He had idly wondered then what type of flaw existed within him that would not even allow him to feel sorrow at their deaths. Now, he would give anything for his earlier lack of feeling.
He sat staring blankly at the monitor where only moments earlier he had witnessed Michael's death. The only proof that it had indeed happened was a crumpled heap of brightly colored clothing lying in the middle of the room. Sorrell's men had stripped the little boy's body and taken it away naked. They were taking no chances that Michael's corpse would one day be identified through the clothing he wore.
Jason grew ill once again just thinking about it. Michael was dead and it was all because of Jason. If only he had stayed at the safe house as Sonny ordered, Carly and Michael would be secure and protected.
“It is not very pleasant on the other side, is it, Mr. Morgan?” There was no pleasure in the guard's voice. “No doubt,” he studied his shocked rival, “you have never had to know your victim's fear and pain until this day.”
A woman's screams filled the room and Jason flinched from the very unexpectedness of it. “Help me!” The desperate cries repeated over and over again. “Please!”
Jason frantically rolled his head to one side. Seconds later his stomach emptied itself of the rising bile that threatened to choke the stunned hit man. The frantic woman was Carly. She cried out to him and there was nothing he could do to help her.
His inability to rush to Carly's rescue devastated Jason. He had failed Michael and now Carly was soon to follow.
“Take a look into the monitor, Mr. Morgan.” The guard grabbed Jason's chin in a crushing grip and forced him to look toward the bank of television screens. “Take a look at what you put into motion!”
As Jason unwillingly watched, Carly's assailant climaxed noisily atop her. The man, whose face was hidden from view by a leather mask, rested against her for a moment before levering himself to his feet.
Almost immediately another masked and aroused stranger took his place and began to lower himself onto Carly's battered and used body.
* This story contains aspects that may be disturbing to some. I do not advocate such behavior, but only wish to depict a more realistic portrayal of the criminal lifestyle General Hospital chooses to glorify.*
