We find Vega pushing a shopping cart full of plants, flowers, soil and some small shovels down the aisle of The Home Depot, the largest home improvement and construction retailer in America. He seems despondent, not interacting with any of the other customers and ignoring any sales associates that may offer him help. He just minds his own business as he pushes his cart up to a cashier, and lets her scan all of his items.
Alright sir, that will be $121.25. How will you be paying today?
Vega pulls out a gold colored credit card and hands it to the cashier. She swipes it, and awaits for the computer to accept the payment. As soon as the word "Approved" appears on her screen, she hands the card back to Vega with a smile on her face. He walks away, pushing his cart of gardening goodies. Just as he walks through the sliding doors, we can hear a random voice in the background...
Hey, I can't find my credit card!
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Vega cannot be untouchable! We know he's committed a multitude of crimes, but can't prove a single one. This is bullshit!
I told you he was good. You assured me that with my cooperation, Vega could be prosecuted.
That was when I thought your cooperation would remain a secret! You're testimony on top of the physical evidence you were supposed to lead us to would have been enough to convict him, but somehow, someway, he got the drop on you! We can't figure it out, but somehow, Vega knew you turned on him before we ever had a chance to make a move. Now, he's gone, and so is every single piece of evidence you claimed to know the location to.
I did know.
But now, you don't. The Boticelli from Florence, the Monet from the NYC, the Rembrandt from Amsterdam, and the Picasso from Madrid! On top of all that, we just got word that there's a Van Gogh reported stolen from the Museum of Modern Art in NYC! All gone!
They're not gone. Vega wouldn't destroy them.
Alexis pauses for a moment.
What Van Gogh?
That famous one of the stars.
"The Starry Night!?"
Whatever it's called.
He finally did it... I can't believe it.
What?
He's wanted "The Starry Night" for as long as I've known him... but he'd never tell me why. With all the other paintings he had reasons, mostly just because he could... but with "The Starry Night," I could tell there was always some kind of underlying reason.
But he never told you why?
Nope.
Well, now it's gone!
It's not gone. He wouldn't steal it just to destroy it. This isn't Vega simply flexing his muscles.
Why wouldn't he!? He's smart enough to not leave a single piece of evidence behind, dammit! He's proven that, thus far. Why should I believe you!?
Because, to you the Boticelli, the Monet, the Rembrandt, the Picasso, and even this Van Gogh are all pieces of evidence. To Vega, they are more than that. He appreciates them for their true worth, their true meaning. Vega would never refer to "The Birth of Venus" as simply as "A Boticelli." To Vega, Sandro Boticelli was writing history with every stroke of his brush. He would hold the paint in that canvas to be worth more than any regular human being's life. Just as he would with Claude Monet's "Water Lilies," Rembrandt van Rijn's "Night's Watch," or Pablo Picasso's "Guernica." He'd scoff at your brute ignorance, Agent Fields, and gladly sacrifice your life in order to preserve the life of these paintings.
Stop glorifying these paintings, dammit. We're dealing with a criminal. A man who has no problem killing. Did you forget that!?
Did you forget that it was you who forced him to pull the trigger for the first time!? You made him a killer. You made him an assassin. Before you, he was nothing more than a thief. A thief capable of stealing some of the most sacred and guarded pieced of art this world has ever known. You took that skill and crafted an assassin out of it. Now, you blame him and me for the fact that you equipped him with the tools necessary to become one of the most skilled killers in the world, and compounded that with an already jaded mind devoid of feeling human compassion. That, to me, sounds like you've created one of the most dangerous entities walking this God forsaken planet, and you stand here, in this interrogation room, angry and me for being unable to clean up your mess!
Why does it sound like you're defending this man, all of a sudden? Need I remind you that it was you who decided to come to us. It was you who decided Vega needed to be brought to justice.
You're right... but the more I associate myself with the C.I.A., the more I realize perhaps this agency isn't qualified to determine what the word "justice" actually means. You took a thief, made him an assassin, and now wish to prosecute the man for committing the crimes that you have nurtured. Where is the justice, Agent Fields?
We are talking about the same man that once tricked you into helping him kill his own father.
For as long as I've known Vega, he's only punished the people he felt deserved to be punished.
What makes him worthy of judging what is right and wrong in this world?
What makes you?
Growing more and more frustrated with every moment that passes, Agent Fields drives his fists into the steel table Alexis is seated at and stares directly into her eyes. Eyes, by the way, that fail to show a single ounce of fear.
Need I remind you that with all the information you've given us about Vega, you've said more than enough to indict you with.
You mean my confessions, Agent Fields?
Yes, to implicate Vega in all the crimes you've told us about you've obviously had to implicate yourself.
Confessions can be recanted, Agent Fields. And it seems Vega has done me a favor and made sure to keep any evidence far away from the grasp of any government agency. So tell me, Fields... what exactly can you indict me with? Furthermore, what exactly can you convict me with? My recanted confession, or the missing evidence your agency never obtained?
Agent Fields offers no response, simply a frustrated grunt and sigh.
You said Vega only punishes those that deserve to be punished, correct?
Yes.
That's why he killed his father.
Correct.
So how do you explain that story you told us about the time he set his dead mother's grave ablaze? You said it was in the week leading to "Kingdom Come." What about that? From everything you've told me, Vega's mother was a saint. Why punish her?
Vega doesn't believe in the afterlife. As much as it may sicken you and me, to Vega... he wasn't burning his mother's grave. Just dirt, and stone.
You've got to be kidding me.
That moment was the first moment I realized that perhaps Vega's mind was too far warped and jaded for me to save him, to redeem him. In many ways, I turned on Vega back then... at least, in my mind I had.
You wanted to redeem him?
I thought I could.
Agent Fields laughs.
Oh how naive.
He leans in close and whispers...
There is no redemption for Vega.
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We find Vega on his knees, knuckle deep in grass and dirt. It's dark, and difficult to make out most of his surroundings, but we can clearly see some of the plants and flowers he purchased earlier lying around him. He looks lost in thought as he continues to speak out loud, talking to himself, fully aware that there isn't anybody around him to listen.
Is redemption even possible at this point?
He lifts his dirt covered hands up close to his eyes.
With all the blood that has stained these hands... is a man like me even worthy of dreaming about redemption?
I don't know if I've ever felt as lost, as hopeless as I do now. It's as if I've all at once realized how much my life has let you down. But, what do I do now? How can I redeem myself?
Vega grabs a flower and begins gently planting it into the ground.
I know if you were here, you would tell me not to worry about losing to Ricky Runn. I know you would tell me that I am better than a World Title, regardless of what happens within the confines of a WZCW ring. But, would you be proud of me? Would you be able to love me, after all I've done?
Vega looks around.
Who could love this...?
He shakes his head and gets back to work.
And now... now after my losing streak continued at "Unscipted," I'm put up against the hottest man in the company. A man so hot, that he lost at the Pay Per View and didn't even get pinned. A man, whom I defeated in my first ever match for this company. I am to go one on one against The Beard. Last time out, Ricky Runn proved that the people I've defeated in the past can come back into your life with a vengeance. Ricky Runn pinned me in one of the most bloodiest, gruesome, awe inspiring Hell in a Cell matches this company has ever witnessed...
Vega pauses to let that sink in... while he shakes his head in disgust.
...and now, the King for a Day is up next. I used to be the most feared man in this company. Used to be considered the most evil entity this company had to offer. No longer. Perhaps, it's Beard that holds that spot now... right? I mean, he's partnered with Dr. Zeus. Even I know the darkness that has enveloped Dr. Zeus. It's a darkness I am far too familiar with.
Vega looks up towards the starry night sky above him.
Supernovas and black holes... that's what you told me stars turn into. Supernovas are the basis for all of existence, black holes are the end to all of existence. I always found it amazing how from one entity, one could get two polar opposites of the universe. Light and dark, life and death, birth and destruction... all from the stars.
I'm dying, mom.
Vega stands up from the dirt and onto his feet.
The Vega this world has known for so long is dying... and I'm struggling to figure out what I'll become. A supernova, exploding everything around me into particles of stardust so small that they serve as the basis for all mankind... or a black hole, a force so evil and destructive that it suck any and everything around it leaving no hope for anything to survive, including light itself.
Regardless, both are extremely dangerous, just like me. I may self implode, or explode into greatness. Either way, mom... Vega will die. I just hope that I still have enough time to redeem myself, in your eyes...
Vega bends over and places his lips on a stone, one we cannot clearly see just yet. As Vega takes a step back to admire his work, we can finally see clearly where we are. We're in a cemetery, the cemetery in which Vega's mother was buried. He stands in front of his mother's grave... no longer exhumed and covered in burned grass. The ground looks pristine, layered with rich soil and implanted with beautiful plants and flowers. It is easily the most lavishly adorned grave in the cemetery now.
Almost done.
All that remains from the fire Vega once set months ago is the charred markings on the face of his mother's tombstone. Vega approaches the tombstone once again. He gets back down onto his knees and reaches to a duffle bag he has placed of to the side. Vega pulls out some kind of solvent, and a black towel. He pours the solvent onto the face of the tombstone, and begins wiping it down with the towel. Slowly but surely the charred aftermath of the blaze he once set begins washing away. With every wipe he makes, he removes a blackened piece of his history. Tears stream down his face, as if he's only now realizing the severity of the actions he has taken.
I'm sorry, mom.
Vega shakes his head, seemingly unable to forgive himself for what he has done.
I'm so sorry.
