Path of Jen: Bloodborne

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Path of Jen: Bloodborne Page 12

by Sidney Wood


  “Umm, okay I guess. I’m not sure yet." She wiggled her toes and fingers, and took an internal inventory of aches and pains. “I am sore…that’s about it. I’m hungry too, I guess.”

  The doctor smiled. “That is a great sign. Okay, I’ll have the nurses remove the restraints, but you’ll have to stay in bed until I can run some more tests. I’m going to give you an antibiotic to help,” he said and he inserted a small needle into her IV.

  “That looks just like the vaccine,” thought Jen. “Hmm, I guess it’s not though. That wouldn’t make any sense."

  A moment later, two nurses, also wearing bio suits, came in and removed her restraints. One of them tinkered with the equipment Jen was hooked up to while the other left and returned with a covered tray of food. Jen wondered what all the fuss with suits and plastic barriers was about, but her hunger got the best of her, and she focused on the delicious smelling food in front of her.

  About two hours later, the doctor returned and took some blood. Jen asked, “Doctor, what time is it? Was I unconscious long?"

  “Jenna, you were fighting that fever for nearly two days. Right now it is…,” he tried to look at his watch and then ducked through the plastic barrier to see the wall clock. He returned and said, “It is eleven o’clock in the morning. Now get some rest. Your body needs it.”

  For the next three days, Jen was not allowed out of the bed except to stand for a few minutes when she was sore, and to use the bathroom. The doctor visited her every four hours and gave her injections each day. Imam Hassan came to see her often and spoke with her about the booklet Maria had left. He seemed to truly believe in the rhetoric they were promoting. Jen did her best to seem agreeable, but more than once she feigned fatigue or sickness to escape further discussion on the terrible subject.

  On the fourth day, Jenna was discharged from the hospital room and taken by wheelchair to her apartment. Inside she found that it had been redecorated and cleaned. Her bed, although the same size, was now adorned with fancy pillows and a colorful blanket. There was a plush rug on the floor, flowers on the desk, and even a small TV! Jen’s jaw dropped. “What is all of this?” she asked the orderly who was leaving the room with the empty wheelchair.

  “I believe it is meant as a show of respect toward you,” he said. He didn’t wait for a follow up question. He hurried through the door and closed it.

  Jen hurried to the TV and turned on the power button. It was a small flat screen TV, sitting on top of her desk, and there was a small remote next to it. She picked up the remote and tried clicking through the channels. She was disappointed to see that there was only one active channel. It played a video of an Imam extolling the virtues of martyrdom, and recounting stories of suicide bombers and jihadis who died fighting against western influence. She turned it off.

  On the wall, next to the bathroom door, hung a new dress. This dress was white like the others, but this one also had intricate gold stitching around the sleeves and neckline. The hijab was similarly decorated. On the floor was a pair of beautiful white leather shoes with gold stitching. On the desk, between the TV and the flowers, there was a jewelry box. Jen opened it and gasped. There were gold rings with sparkling jewels, a thick gold necklace, two sets of bejeweled gold earrings, and several gold bracelets. There was a note in the lid.

  “Jenna, these jewels and fine clothes belong to you. They belong to Paradise."

  Jen excitedly took the jewelry box into the bathroom and tried each piece on. On the sink was a makeup kit. There were lipsticks, powder foundation, a new eyeliner pencil, and a larger set of eyeshadows. There was also an expensive looking brush set. Jen looked at the shower and saw an assortment of soaps, shampoos, conditioners, and bubble bath. “Oh Sarah, I wish you could see all of this! They think I’m some kind of royalty!"

  Jen ran a bath and poured a healthy dose of bubble bath in it. As she waited for the tub to fill, she took the jewelry and makeup out of the bathroom and put them on the desk in front of the TV. She turned the TV on and turned the volume up. Jen walked back into the bathroom and closed the door. She undressed completely and slipped into the soapy tub. The water was a bit too hot at first, but she forced herself to stay put until it became more bearable. She turned off the water and sat back in the tub. “It feels so good,” she thought as she sunk down in the water to her neck. She closed her eyes and start singing. She sang every pop song she could think of, and threw in some country too. Jen stayed in the tub until the water began to get cold. When she stood up to get out she felt renewed and exhausted at the same time. “Okay, time for this princess to take a nap,” she said out loud. She wrapped herself in one of the big towels hanging next to the shower and yawned. She nearly lost the towel as she stretched her arms above her head, but she caught it. She ran to the bed and jumped on top of the soft pillows. She fell asleep right there on top of the covers with slightly damp hair and only a towel to keep her warm.

  The next day, Jen woke up feeling hungrier than she had since arriving at the hospital. Her stomach growled and she looked around the room for something to eat. As expected there was nothing. Jen told herself breakfast was coming soon and started doing her morning exercises. She quickly fatigued and stopped before completing the entire routine. “Wow, this thing took more out of me than I thought." There was a knock on the door and Jen found Maria waiting outside in the hall without a hospital mask on. Jen gave her a winning smile and invited her in.

  “Jenna, you aren’t even dressed! Come on. Aren’t you hungry? I am!" Maria chided. She sat on the bed and raised her eyebrows at the new furnishings. “Very nice!"

  Jen shrugged and said, “I know, right?" She picked up her hospital mask and asked, “Are we done with these?"

  “Yes!” said Maria. “The doctor said we do not need them anymore."

  “That’s what I wanted to hear,” said Jen with a smile. She tossed it in the trash and took her new clothes into the bathroom. Five minutes later she came out looking like a new person.

  “Jenna, you look divine! Masha, Allah.” said Maria. “There is more to do, though. Remember your new name." She handed Jen the box of jewelry, and the makeup kit. Jen rolled her eyes, but Maria turned her around and gave her a push toward the bathroom. She followed after Jen and helped her finish getting ready. “Do you know what the soldiers are saying about the Holy Virgin?"

  Jen held perfectly still as she leaned forward, close to the mirror, and said, “No, tell me." She continued applying her eyeliner.

  Maria smiled mischievously, and told her, “They say you are called Paradise because to take your virginity is equal to reaching Heaven." She raised an eyebrow and waited for Jenna to react to the scandalous rumor.

  Jen choked and coughed. She had to hold the pencil away from her face for fear of gouging her eye as she tried to reclaim her poise. “Really? That’s so crude!"

  Maria laughed and seemed to thoroughly enjoy Jen’s reaction. “Well, even so,” laughed Maria. “If this is the effect your legend has on these soldiers. Imagine what it will do to inspire jihadis across the globe!”

  Jen paused and swallowed. She had leaned forward and was applying eyeliner to her other eyelid. Her hand began to tremble and she had to stop again. She stood up and grasped the sink for support.

  Maria noticed the discomfort and placed her hands on Jen’s shoulders. “I know it’s a lot to process, Jenna. I didn’t mean to upset you." Jen tuned and gave Maria a sad smile.

  “I appreciate your concern, Maria. I’m okay." She turned back to the mirror and finished applying her makeup. “Jesus, please help me escape this place…soon,” she thought.

  It took another hour before Maria was satisfied with Jena’s outfit, makeup, and jewelry. They left the room together and walked toward the cafeteria for breakfast. In the hallway, and then in the cafeteria, everyone who saw Jen smiled and reached out to touch her dress. It was like she was a celebrity suddenly. She found it unnerving, but Maria assured her it was okay.

  “You have to let
them have this Jenna,” she said. “You give them hope." Jen swallowed her fear and discomfort and obeyed.

  That was the way it was for the next three weeks. As the new year approached, Jen was starting to feel more at ease in her new role, but she was also getting more pressure to vocalize her beliefs. During her meetings with the Imam, he coached her into more radical dialogue. Jen found herself repeating horrible phrases, condemning Christianity and denouncing America. Finally, on what she privately observed as Christmas day, Imam Hassan pressured her to record a message that he scripted. She couldn’t say no. There was a professional camera crew set up in the mosque and high ranking soldiers watching.

  Jen sat in an ornate chair, dressed in an ornate and dazzling white dress. She wore a similarly decorated hijab which was wrapped to cover all but her makeup enhanced eyes. She also wore fine jewelry and expensive shoes. Over and over she read the script that the Imam had written. It was a declaration of war upon non-believers, a condemnation of western influence, and a call to arms by Jihadis across the globe. Jen hated every second of it, and hoped that her bad acting and accented Farsi would cause them to scrap the entire production.

  When the production crew finally had what they wanted, the Imam signaled that Jen was done. She stood and to her horror, everyone in the mosque surrounded her and began chanting, “Allahu Akbar!" She stood there, frozen, while the men shouted praise to Allah for what she had just done. Jen began to cry. That sent them into a frenzy. They interpreted her tears as being overcome with emotion for their cause. The walls vibrated with the shouted chant of “Allahu Akbar!” over and over. When she was finally able to leave, she needed Maria to help her down the sidewalk. She was trembling so bad that her legs wanted to give out. “What have I done?” she thought. “God, forgive me! What have I done?"

  Chapter Seventeen

  Najid sat in his office trying to concentrate on work, but his mind kept drifting to his daughter, Jena. It was nearing her eighteenth birthday and there had been no news from the government for several months now. He sighed and pushed the papers he was reviewing aside. He clicked on the Internet Explorer icon on his desktop and waited for the home screen to load. Najid’s MSNBC news feed appeared on the screen and he rolled through the top stories. Near the top there was a headline that caught his eye. “Queen of Suicide Bombers Threaten’s Apocalypse - Is a Dirty Bomb Coming to the US?" Najid sighed and kept scrolling. “They sensationalize everything,” he thought.

  He selected the Favorites tab and clicked on CNN. The main story was about a billionaire missing in a plane crash. The headlines down the left column included a headline similar to the one on MSNBC. It read, “Suicide Queen Calls All Jihadis." Najid returned to his Favorites tab and selected Fox News. The main headline read, “Mother of all Suicide Bombers." Najid was about to close the browser when the corresponding photo caught his eye. He leaned closer to the screen and then pushed back. “Oh no!" Najid’s heart raced, and his hands trembled. He reached for his phone and knocked over the cup of pens sitting near his computer monitor. His fingers refused to cooperate with his mind, and he had to try three times before dialing the correct number. The phone rang and he stared at the computer screen while he waited for Fouzia to pick up.

  After several rings, Fouzia’s voice mail picked up. He hung up. Najid ran his hands through his hair and slumped over his desk. Unable to wait, he slammed his hands on his desk top, grabbed his coat from behind the door, and ran out of his office. He ignored the questioning looks from his coworkers as he stepped into the elevator and headed for the parking garage. He tapped his hands again his legs as he rode the car down excruciatingly slow. “It couldn’t be her, could it? No way!” he thought. But it was all bravado. He knew those eyes could not belong to anyone else. “The Suicide Queen is my daughter,” he whispered.

  The elevator doors opened and Najid stepped out into the garage. He fished his keys out of his coat pocket and pressed the unlock button. He heard the familiar chirp of his car alarm disarming and the doors unlocking. Rounding the corner to his parking row, Najid saw something he did not expect. He stopped in his tracks and the four men standing at the rear of his car turned in unison to face him. Two of the men were uniformed police officers, and their car was parked directly behind them. The other two men were dressed in dark suits. Najid almost turned back to the elevator, but he knew that would just make things worse.

  “Mr. Najid?” one of the men wearing a suit called out.

  Najid nodded, but stayed where he was. “What do they want with me? Do they know?”

  The two men in suits walked over to Najid and flipped open their badges. The leather wallets each had a clear window on the inner flap that showed a white ID card with “FBI” written in large blue letters. “Sir, I’m sorry to surprise you like this…I’m Special Agent House. This is Special Agent Fornier. We have some questions for you about your daughter. Will you come with us?”

  Najid swallowed hard. “Oh dear God, please be with me now." Najid nodded and went with them. The policemen return to their car and Najid followed the FBI agents to theirs. He was put in the back seat and they dove out of the parking garage and into the busy Dallas streets.

  “I haven’t been able to reach my wife. Is someone from your agency contacting her as well?" Najid asked.

  The two men in the front seat looked at each other and then Agent House said, “She’s already where we’re going. Just sit tight and you’ll see her soon enough.”

  There was no more talking for the rest of the ride. Najid was just as unsure about what would happen when they walked him into an FBI conference room as he was in the parking garage. “Mr. Ahmadi,” said Special Agent House. “Thank you for cooperating. We brought you down here because we have reason to believe your missing daughter is cooperating with the terror organization, ISIS. That is…concerning.”

  Najid shook his head angrily. “No! She was kidnapped and whatever she is doing, I guarantee she is being forced!”

  Agent House raised his hands and said, “Okay, okay, I understand the back story here. We’ve been in contact with Congressman Seaver’s office already. We know your daughter was kidnapped, and by all appearances, she was not affiliated with any terror groups at the time. That doesn’t change the fact that she is definitely affiliated with one now." His tone was snarky and he made no effort to hide his belief that Jena was guilty. “You must have seen the video. Can you honestly argue differently?”

  “What video?” asked Najid angrily. “I saw the headlines, and there was a picture. I haven’t even read the story." He took a breath to regain control of his temper and spoke calmly. “May I please see the video you’re talking about? And may I please see my wife? I’m sure she’s just as upset as I am.”

  Special Agent House and Special Agent Fornier stepped outside the conference room to talk privately. A minute later Agent House re-entered the room and said, “Agent Fornier is sending for your wife, and we’re dialing up the video so we can all watch it on the big screen." He tapped the table a few times and looked at the door. “Okay, I’m going to get some coffee. You want some?”

  Najid nodded. “Yes, please. I take it black.”

  Agent House looked at Najid sideways for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. Instead he smirked, tapped the table once and walked out of the room.

  Najid put his head in his hands and tried to focus on the good news. “I saw my daughter alive!" He repeated that phrase for strength and peace of mind, but it was a hollow gesture. “I don’t know who she is anymore,” was the truth that he finally had to admit.

  Special Agent Fornier and Fouzia arrived at the same time Special Agent House arrived with a carafe and a stack of styrofoam cups. A young man wearing designer glasses, a pink pinstriped shirt, and bluejeans logged into the computer at the back of the room and the TV came to life. Najid could see the computer desktop displayed on the TV screen, and followed the cursor as it selected a network drive and opened a folder. The techie opened a couple of
subfolders and finally selected a file labeled: Armageddon.

  A media player opened to full screen and white Persian writing appeared on a black background. On the bottom of the screen, English subtitles read, “Jihad is coming to the West. Jihad is coming to the World!" The screen faded from black to a deep red, and in the center stood an ISIS soldier dressed from head to toe in black, and carrying an AK-47. The red border had ornate golden scrollwork, which created a dramatic frame around the figure in the center. He spoke with a clear, authoritative voice. As he spoke, the subtitles at the bottom of the screen read, “While the Americans sleep, The Islamic State has been diligently working to bring about their destruction. Our Jihadis have been training non-stop, and our network now extends to the furthest reaches of their decrepit empire. This is a minor accomplishment in comparison to the feat our scientists and Imams have created. Non-believers throughout the world will know the true power of Islam in these, their final days."

  The picture in the center changed to video footage of a confident young woman in a dazzling white dress and hijab. She wore gold and jewels, and took a seat upon an ornate, high backed chair. She looked like a queen taking a seat on her throne. In the video, flashes could be seen as photographers took numerous pictures. The voice continued, “Behold, the Holy Virgin of Islam. The most virtuous and devout Muslim woman in all the world. For true believers, Jenna embodies the true meaning of her name: Paradise; for that is what she brings to all who believe in the Holy Quran." The center picture changed to a simplified global map spinning slowly. A small red spot appeared in North America and quickly spread, soon covering the entire world. All the while the voice continued speaking. It said, “But for non-believers, the Holy Virgin of Islam is the Mother of all Suicide Bombers, waging an unstoppable Jihad against an unclean and unworthy world. Prepare yourselves. For you, Jenna brings Armageddon.”

 

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