As Frank is advancing down the stairs of the subway station he notices that a train is stopped at the station and some local beat cops are leading commuters out of the station. He realizes why he had been called to that station as he approaches the platforms edge and sees Officer Vazquez hovering over a corpse on the tracks.

Frank startles Vazquez by yelling, “What the hell happened here, Vazquez?”

Jumping up from his squat, Vazquez responds, “Err…um…apparently he jumped out in front of a train passing by the station, some witnesses say he was bloody before the jump and he was carrying a pistol in his hand. A Beretta was found farther down the tracks, the forensic guys are over there looking at it now. Try talking to them.”

Frank asks the forensics team as he flashes his badge, “Excuse me, I’m Detective Frank Grasso, I’m the head detective on this case, can you tell me what happened please?”

“The assumed perp here had jumped out in front of the train and…” Grasso interrupts, “Did you just say perp? Why is he a perp, he’s dead!”

“This pistol had seven .22 caliber rounds in the magazine and 1 in the chamber. It holds ten bullets…”

“So he must have used the other two, get me his name and address and all his contacts in the past two months, ASAP! Let the M.E. take it over from here!”

“Yes, sir…”

.;.;.Earlier That Day.;.;.

John is in the elevator, pissed off as it is for being laid off from his high paying job, and getting even more agitated listening the dreadful music coming from the speakers behind him as the trip to his 25th floor penthouse continues. As he opens the door to his penthouse, he hears giggling. Suspecting his live-in girlfriend, Jamie, is watching one of her stupid sitcoms, John continues into the living room. What he saw just made his day even worse. His girlfriend sprawled across their couch with the building’s janitor positioned above her. He blows his top, “WHO THE HELL IS THIS? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING! RARRRGH!”

Jamie springs up surprised, pushing the janitor away. She responds, gasping for air, “What the hell are you doing here John, you’re not supposed to be home for another four hours?!?”

The janitor takes a seat near her.

“I GOT FIRED, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I CAN’T BELIEVE I TRUSTED YOU. I LOVED YOU! I DEVOTED MY LIFE TO YOU! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sor-”

Before she could finish her sentence, John had taken his pistol and fired two precise shots, one hitting her in the center of her forehead, and the other passing through his heart. He sits down and stares. His girlfriend and her lover, both dead, crimson blood stains the beautiful white leather couch, dripping down through its precious seams.

Realizing what he had done, John leaves his penthouse, goes back down the elevator, this time, oblivious to the music coming from the big brown speakers. He reaches the lobby and walks out in the likeness of a zombie, not blinking, just moving forward. He progresses down the street, turns the corner, and walks down the stairs to the subway. John conceals the weapon and uses his Metro Card to advance through the turnstile. Walking further into the station, the gun is returned to his hand. Approaching the platform, he thinks to himself, ‘What luck, the train is coming.’ Noticing the rate of speed the train is moving at, its arrival is timed to five seconds. He counts down in his head. Five, Four, Three, Two, one… He launches himself forward…

The End