Super Avenged: Only Human

I whistled nonchalantly as I opened Miya’s and mine mailbox in the lobby of her apartment. Trying not the notice the sympathetic looks everyone in the lobby hurled at me, I pulled our mail out without even glancing at what we had. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I walked back towards the elevator. Halfway there, I changed my mind and turned instead towards the stairs. The last thing I needed was standing in a stuffy elevator with people all around me trying to tell me how sorry they felt for me, how they were praying for me, how much they hoped Miya would return soon as healthy and happy as before. It seemed as though I was the only one who realized that when Miya returned (when not if, because I will find her and bring her back) she would never be the same, always scarred by what happened to her.

I paused on the landing and leaned back against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. I didn’t consider myself an emotional wreck quite yet; I still seemed to be in denial. Every time I walked into the apartment, I always expected to find Miya in there somewhere, painting or sketching or doing housework. And when I realized that Miya wasn’t there, wasn’t anywhere near there, my heart ripped wide open just a little further.

I looked down at the mail in my hand. There appeared to be some bills, a few slips of junk mail—

”One, two, three, four, five...six! Six pieces of junk mail, Jimmy!” Miya exclaimed, waving six envelopes in front of my face. “That’s a new record, isn’t it? What, have we been targeted by the junk mail mafia?”

“Wait, there’s a Victoria’s Secret thing in there,” I said, snatching the envelopes out of her hand. “So, five junk mail things. That’s not a new record, Miya, I’m sorry.”

“You’re a pig,” she snapped with a grin. “Give me that.” She snatched the Victoria’s Secret envelope out of my hand and tore it in half with the rest of them. I pouted at her, and Miya leaned up to press a kiss to my lips. “Sorry, babe.”

I apologize for that little foray into my head. Lately, I’ve been having flashbacks, usually triggered by a word or something I see. It’s nothing big, really. And I know that Miya’s been kidnapped before, but this time feels worse. Like, we were so close to having eternal happiness, and then this happened and it’s one more hurtle we have to leap over to be happy. Anyway, back to the mail.

There was a brown package in the bunch as well. I frowned down at it, wondering what it could be. The address had been written neatly in the center of the large brown envelope, but there wasn’t a return address or name of any sort. I continued up the stairs, curious as to what the envelope contained.

Once in the privacy of my apartment, I threw the other mail down onto the coffee table and pulled open the brown envelope. Inside there was a DVD in a little plastic case with a note taped to it. I pulled off the note and quickly read it:

Mr. Sullivan,

Watch this. You might like what you see.

But then again, you might not.

It hadn’t been signed, and written in such sloppy handwriting that I could barely read it. Somehow getting the strangest feeling this had something to do with Miya, I drifted absentmindedly over to the television and slipped the DVD into the DVD player. Usually, if Miya was there, I would crack a joke about sending him a note back asking for it in video cassette form because I hadn’t upgraded to DVD yet, but since Miya wasn’t there I kept my trap shut. I turned the television on and pressed play on the DVD player.

“So, your wifey’s been kidnapped, and you haven’t got a single clue where she could be...” The first scene showed a man dressed in all black, complete with black ski mask that hid everything but his eyes and mouth, pacing back and forth in a bare room that looked a bit like a basement...or a dungeon. “But I am so thrilled to know that you’ve taken the leap into the unknown and decided to watch this video. Now, I’m not a top notch director or anything, but I’m sure you’ll be very intrigued by my videos nonetheless.”

I sank down on the couch, my arms resting on my legs. The man stopped and looked around at the camera.

“Mr. Sullivan, I want you to know that I will never lie to you. I am a very honest person...it’s just my morals are a little fucked up. But if you searched deep within yourself, I’m sure you’ll find some sketchy morals in your heart of gold, too. Everything you see on this video is real. The pain is real. The hurt is real. The tears and the screams and every fucking thing is realer than real. So, I’m going to start with telling you my true motives.

“I kidnapped your gorgeous young wife, Jimmy, for one purpose and one purpose only: to break you. Already, your heart is starting to split because I’ve kidnapped your wife. But I don’t want to just break your heart. I want to shatter your soul. I want to show the world who worships you that you are not invincible. You are not immune to human emotions. I want to prove that you are only human, because we both know deep down, you really are.

“The forming of this idea took a while, of course,” the man continued, starting to pace again. “And the planning took many, many months. My first plan was designed to kidnap one of your super buddies. I thought that would be the perfect way to show the world no man is invincible. But how in the hell would I restrain any of your super friends? I am a mere human, so that wouldn’t work. And some random citizen wouldn’t hurt you. Then, you married Miya Langston, the hotel heiress, and bam! I had myself the perfect target.

“You love her, don’t you, Mr. Sullivan? Good, because none of this would hurt nearly as much if you didn’t.”

The screen went black for several seconds. The scene that appeared tore my heart further in half.

“Salutations, Mr. Sullivan. Are you breaking now?” The man turned slightly, and Miya came into view. She was propped up on her knees, a blindfold tied over her eyes and her hands tied behind her back. A henchman clothed completely in black like the first man, and wearing an identical ski mask, stood beside her, his hand fisted in her chestnut hair.

“Let’s go say hello, shall we?” he asked. He turned around and walked over to Miya. The camera followed him. “Hello, Miya.” He reached out and stroked Miya’s pale cheek. She twisted her head, chomping at his finger. He pulled it back abruptly, and the second man jerked Miya’s head back. She grimaced for a millisecond before calming her face once more.

“Go to Hell,” Miya growled venomously. I felt like cheering, knowing that Miya wasn’t panicking and kept a clear head enough to fight back whenever possible. She had to be scared, but she wasn’t letting anyone know.

“Really?” the man asked incredulously. “I figure that’s where I’m going, yes. But I’d rather not go now.”

“I know I would prefer it,” Miya said.

“Mr. Sullivan, your wife does not know her place in this situation,” the man said, looking around at the camera for several moments. “I think we should teach it to her.”

“I’m a slow learner,” Miya grumbled.

“Not for long,” Jerk 1 replied, pulling back a hand. He slapped Miya hard across the face, enough to jerk her head to the side. Okay, now when I finally came face to face with this guy, I was going to rip his head off.

“That was a sissy slap,” Miya mumbled. Jerk 1 slapped her again. Already, a bruise began to form on that cheek.

“Have you broken yet, Mr. Sullivan?” Jerk 1 asked the camera. He walked towards it, blocking Miya from view once more. “Farewell, Mr. Sullivan.”

The screen blanked again. A few moments later, a new scene came up.

“Look, Jimmy, it’s bruising already,” Miya grumbled, leaning closer to what looked like a mirror and rubbing her cheek. “Those bastards are the very definition of bastard.” Then, she smiled in the mirror. “I love you. I just wanted you to know, just in case I forgot to tell you. But, anyway, Bastard and his buddies gave me this video camera and told me that it would record for ten minutes before leaving. I would guess that they’ll send this to you, along with his little slap happy moment. Oh! Would you like to see my new digs?”

The camera swiveled away from Miya’s face and she walked into a room that looked a lot like the previous one. The camera turned to show a lumpy cot sitting against one of the concrete walls with a scratchy, ragged blanket thrown over it.

“That’s my cot. It’s not exactly five star, but it’s something other than the floor. And in here is my bathroom,” Miya said, turning back into the room she just walked out of. I saw a sink, toilet, and shower in the bathroom. “I’m grateful for the bathroom. A woman without a bathroom is a bitch indeed.”

Miya stepped back out into the main room. The cot squeaked as she sat down on it and swiveled the camera around to show her face again. I drank the sight of her face in, hoping I would get to see it in person sooner rather than later.

“And look!” she said, tilting the camera down to focus on her shirt. She pulled up the hem of it, revealing a large, gaping hole in the tie-dye. “They tore a hole in my shirt! I love this shirt!” She sighed and focused the camera back on her face. “The nerve of some people, Jimmy.” Suddenly, Miya became very serious. “Jimmy, I love you. I really, really love you. And I know that you blame my kidnapping on yourself, but please don’t. There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent it from happening. And I know it looks really bad from your end, but I’m fine. Really, I’m fine. A little sore, yes, but pain isn’t permanent. Please, don’t lose your head and do anything rash. Keep a cool head and everything will work itself out. I love you, Jimmy, and I can’t lose you.” She blew a kiss at the camera, and then the television went blank once more.