Many Lives, Episode 2

Vik stared at the blood on the floor, his sister was writhing painfully on the floor, flowing red. The Arabic man with a red sword was shouting at the bank manager invoking Allah's curses and saying Quranic passages and saying something about 'keys'. Three other middle east men stood nearby, pointing guns at a petrified hostage crowd. She was going to die in front of them, she was barely alive. Vik stared. His mother held him tightly and he could feel her shaking. It was a nightmarish hell. He tried waking up. He didn't.

Vik's full name was Ranavik Jenson. Everyone called him Vik. He parents were Finnish, but he grew up in the States. His parents immigrated there before he was born and were thoroughly settled. "I don't know what Dad does, something at the Embassy", was his answer when his friends asked him what he does. His Mom was a Doctor. Rarely at home.

Vik hated religion. He cared about was his sister, and she was gone. He grew up with her his whole life. And ofcourse, she was old enough to be his mother.

He looked back at Jack, decided to ignore him and walked on. He couldn't be late for his date. It was evening. Almost dark. Jack had always tried to be a maverick. No one ever let him, ofcourse.

Vik thought about his 'dark' past. It wasn't so dark he told himself, smiled involuntarily and walked on. It wasn't so dark. He just blew things to epic proportion is his mind.