John Wick: Within a Dark Wood Ch. 01

Music. There was music playing. Specifically Nessun Dorma from Turandot. The last thing John Wick could remember was the sewn up face of the Bowery King asking if he was angry yet. He had been then and he was now. His nose was greeted by the smell of garbage, sewer water and street funk that marked the Kings underground. He could also smell something else... perfume? He opened his eyes and found himself sitting in an old office chair with his shirt open and a bright light in his eyes blinding him. Another chair scooted close to him, but the brilliant light bulb obscured his vision making it almost impossible to see who it was beyond the outline of a woman with long hair.

As she leaned forward he got his first good look at her and for a moment didn't quite believe what he was seeing. He had not looked into those brilliant blue eyes in at least ten years. He didn't even know where she had been all this time. She didn't say anything but took up her surgical needle and started sewing up his wounds from the gunshots he had received. The stitches she made were small and precise. It was the same kind of attention to detail she had always shown during their days as assassins.

"Elisa," he said, then stopped. What could he possibly say?

"Almost done, John," she answered, knotting the suture then cutting the needle free. "You're lucky. That fall should have killed you."

John could only stare up at her as though he was looking at a ghost. It was definitely Elisa, his old friend. Perhaps she was a bit older, but she looked as good as ever. Looking down at all of his old scars as well as the new sutures and feeling the sting of recent cuts and bruises, he knew he could not say the same about himself.

"Are you working again?" he asked, uncertain of what answer he was hoping she would give. If she said yes then should he be concerned that she had slipped him something while doctoring him? On the other hand, a 'yes' answer could mean that she was on his side and willing to help him. If she said no then should he be disappointed that he didn't have any real allies or happy that she was still out of that life?

"Just patching up an old friend," she smiled, ripping off her latex gloves and throwing them away in the nearest garbage can. "I would tell you to take it easy for a few days and heal, but I think we both know that won't happen."

"How did you find me?"

"I first saw that you were back when I discovered someone had broken into my veterinarian office," she responded, picking up her equipment and taking it over to a table where her medical bag was. "They bled all over the place, used my surgical stapler and took one of the dogs from his cage. One look at my surveillance cameras showed me who had done it. That idea was reinforced when the Bowery King sent a request for me to stitch up a wounded man. Somehow I just knew it would be John Wick." She brushed her hair back and John's quick eyes caught sight of a chain around her neck with a locket hanging from it as well as another pendant. Like the gold coins, blood markers and the tattoos, it was rife with symbolism of their order. This particular pendant was different though and although he had heard that such a thing existed, he had never actually laid eyes on one. He got out of his chair and went over to Elisa as she was repacking her medical back then gently taking her arm, he slid her sleeve up exposing her wrist. There it was the same symbol marked on her skin in the center of her forearm: the mark of immunity. With this, no one would dare touch a hair on her head.

"How did you get that?" he asked, his dark eyes staring into her like fire. Such status was unheard of and he was instantly suspicious of how she had managed to get it. From all he had heard you practically needed to make a pact with the devil himself. He had never known her to be that compromising of a person and he was certain that for her to have gotten that mark meant that somewhere, sometime she had sold a piece of her soul and that bothered him. He hated to see the incorruptible be corrupted.

"That's a long drawn out story," she answered, her face becoming hard as she looked back at him defiantly and pulled her arm free. "And you don't have time to hear it. The short version is that I paid a very high price for it. Very high." For a moment he almost caught a hint of shame in her expression, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Do you think Baba Yaga is the only feather other assassins want to put in their cap?" Elisa turned and gave a slight laugh and shake of her head and she continued to put her medical equipment back in her bag. "At least with you they only want to mount your head along with your dick and balls on their walls. When you're a woman they want a lot more."

John didn't press any further. Both of them were extremely private individuals not given to divulging information about themselves, even to each other. If she wanted him to know then Elisa would tell him. For now he would respect her privacy. As he silently put his shirt back on, she looked over at his missing finger and she immediately softened.

"Thanks, by the way," John said, after a few quiet moments and running his fingers over his stitches. The local anesthetic was beginning to wear off and the pain was beginning to come back as he started buttoning his shirt.

"No problem," she returned, softly. "You should know, I was sorry to hear about Helen. I always heard she was a wonderful woman."

"She was," he would not say more. If Elisa was closed-mouthed about personal matters then so was he. Helen was the brightest light in his life and without her he was lost. Even talking about her was difficult, especially for a man not given to idle chit chat.

"I'll see you around, John," she responded, with a soft sigh. What could they say to each other? Too many years had passed and they had traveled down very different paths. She picked up her bag and started to leave, but before she had walked more than a few steps he called out to her.

"Can you help me get a gun and ammunition?" At this request, Elisa immediately stopped, but didn't turn around. "The storm is quickly becoming a hurricane and everyone out there is looking for me."

"You are putting me in a very bad position, John."

"I'm not asking you to fight, I just need a gun and some bullets."