The Lone Survivor, The Winner.

The car beeps with a click, Amelia opening the driver's side and stepping inside. Puting the key into the eginition, leaning forward to turn onto the radio for the first time in months. Fidgeting with the dials for a moment, before wrapping her hand around the passenger seat. Looking back to the lot behind her, she begins to slowly pull the car out of its spot.

Amelia switches to drive, and pulls away from the building. Getting into the street with the many cars going down the street with her. Listening to the variety of music selected, trying her best to clear the fog which was burdening her mind.

She almost had it, the life she had always dreamed of. A career with meaning, a relationship filled with love, independence and joy. Triumph over the trials she had experienced, making it out of the ocean of blood intended to drown her.

A winner, the one who had succeeded in living through Hell's best obstacles. No longer a victim, but a survivor. The small and sheltered girl becomes the strong, and capable woman. That's who she thought she was, until the storm picked her up with no warning yet again.

Jake arriving had been one of the many surprises she almost expected. One day he would return for vengeance, no matter how much she had put the idea in the back of her mind. He was psychopathic, unable to understand the emotions of others. He only cared for his own, and would destroy anything that got in the way of his desires. Amelia expected him to stay as he was: The sore loser creating round two on his own terms.

Dallas however, she had hoped would have reigned true. Handsome, smart, confident, a lover of new experiences. A support system, a shoulder to cry on, a rock to hold onto when things became unstable. He had always been there, he had always wished to help. Sleeping in the same bed for five long years, whispering sweet nothings into her ears. Of a continuously beautiful life together, of the future that held bright promises.

A sweet lie, just to keep her in his hands. What he had planned, she didn't know. Amelia wouldn't stick around to find out his intentions.

He was smart, one of the most intelligent people she knew. Dallas was bound to have a plan up his sleeve– Letting her go without a fuss. Without her standing next to him, Dallas would know something was on the rise.

Another battle, a constant war of bloodshed and agony. Amelia should have become accustomed to such a sight, yet those she loved were the ones in the crossfire. Without that factor, there would be no emotion to the blood that fell.

That blood was in her own hands only, she was to blame. Jake Parker started the pattern, and Dallas Linch seemed to wish to continue it. Both of them together, working side by side.

How could she have not seen such an alliance forming right under her nose? The horrid and cursed, coming together for one sole objective: One she hadn't figured out just yet.

It was shameful, she was shameful to have not cracked open the riddle yet. Slow in pace, and unable to figure out the deeper layers of their connection. There had to be something big bringing the two of them together.

Dallas stated his hatred for Jake, and vice versa. What on this Earth would bring two enemies hand in hand?

Amelia turns the wheel after the short drive, pulling into her fathers driveway. Switching off the car's engine, the music and light automatically shutting off. Stepping out of the car, she slams the door shut behind her. Eyeing the missing vehicle in the driveway, noticing she would be alone in the home.

She sighs, putting her bag into her hand, walking up the driveway to the front door. Digging into her pocket to pull out her father's extra house key, putting it into the lock and pushing the door open.

All the lights are off, leaving Amelia in almost complete darkness. Only the lights of the outside street lamps reflect inside of the home. Letting out a huff, her hands search on the wall near her for the light switch. Brushing against the hard surface, the pain bumps pressing on her fingertips.

Her fingers find a smooth surface, bumping into the edge of the light switch. Amelia flicks it up, lighting up the entire living room and kitchen instantly. Her eyes are immediately met with another's, and her briefcase drops onto the ground next to her.

That pounding heart only races faster, body freezing up at the front of the doorway. In the kitchen only mere feet away stood Jake Parker. Not in his usual attire of all black clothing covering head to toe, his muscular arms finally made their appearance. Tattoos covering every inch of skin from fingers to elbows– Possibly more from beyond the white button up shirt. Sleeves rolled up, yet buttons left open to the middle of his chest. The familiar inked dragon laid on his chest, seeping into dark tan skin. His neck was covered in the same sort of ink, various shapes in patterns across the base of his neck to his jawline. Black hair shuffled and scuffed on top his head, messy

He held a glass in his hand, leaning against the countertop. Swirling the alcohol in the glass, light blue eye staring in her direction. His devious smirk stretched across his lips, she never saw him without that look in his eyes.

He was up to no good, more than he had in the past. Showing up in her home was one thing, but knowing her father's home was a completely different stepping stone. He was smart enough to find a location she had kept secret.

Unless his supposed accomplice told him such a thing.

It hit her, her father and his car were absent. The house was empty, and here Jake stood in front of her. The intense shock of him turns into fear for her father, who had not spoken to her the entire day. Charlie could be in danger or worse, she could be too late.

Amelia steps forward, hands gripped into fists. "Jake, don't tell me you–" Before she can finish he chuckles, swigging back his drink.

With a groan followed by a sigh, he runs his fingers through his hair. "Of course not, we had a deal. Ya really think that low of me, huh? Your father and his fuckin' cop buddy are out togetha."

There was relief to know Jake somewhat kept up with his own part of the deal. Her father was alive, and with someone he trusted.

He places the glass down onto the surface, stepping out of the kitchen and forward into the living room. Gesturing around him, then looking at Amelia. "I wanted us to be alone, like always." His tone was light, still dark with the base of his voice.

Yet Amelia was not amused, angrily rubbing her hands on the sides of her forehead in frustration. "I hate when you do this, frankly I hate you." Venom shoots from her lips, the sentence followed by a hiss.

Jake shakes his head, laughing once more. "Amelia, Amelia. My precious lil' doll. Do ya know how fast a clock ticks?"

With his hand he points towards the clock hanging over her father's fireplace. Her eyes follow his finger, watching as the clock continues to tick on. Slowly, each point hit with a light click on impact. A man made device taunting her as each second passed.

So much time had gone by already. From the moment she was born, to the very moment standing in front of one of her greatest enemies. The hands on the clock only moved so fast or slow, as nature so chose. It was a pivotal moment, every last little detail.

"How fast time passes, how fast we fuckin' decay and rot?"

They were both insignificant, ants under a microscope.