Can There Be Only One?

March 6, 1986

I woke up handcuffed to the bed. I looked at it and then around the room, where there was no Kurgan. I used my left hand and felt through my hair, grabbing the bobby pin I always kept in my hair and using it to unlock the cuffs, I went to the convenience store across the street and bought some food. I went down the street and sat there on the corner, looking at the sunrise. I just stared and stared until I felt the Kurgan and he turned the corner, stopping as soon as he saw me.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked and he looked around before getting out and walking over to me where I looked up at him, a little less of a beautiful sight.

"How did you-" I held out my hand with the hairclip and he took it, throwing it into the woods to my right. I then dug into my hair, taking out the style I had put hours into and held out the rest. He stared at me and I threw them with rest, getting in the passenger side of his car. He just stood there and I honked the horn. He turned around and I smiled, to which he got in the car and he drove back to the room. I went into my room and saw a picture I didn't see before. I squatted down and picked it up, staring at Abe as I wiped away a couple of tears.

"You are going to hate me. God, maybe that is for the better," I said and put the photo in my wallet where I could see it every time I opened it. I heard the Kurgan come up behind me and I sat down on the floor once he shut the door and I began to pick the photos up, one by one.

"I followed you for a long time, Victor," I said, going into my bag where I pulled out a painting I made of him.

"I had a bad dream one night and I saw you kill Connor there on that battlefield, so I painted you. Connor saw it one day and got angry at me, wondering why I knew you. I told him it was a dream and he didn't believe me so he left for some time. I cried there, thinking of the dream and how much of myself I saw in you. I was a human killer for almost 80 years when I met a monk and it changed everything. I never thought you were real until I saw you kill that lady in Hong Kong. I followed you here to New York, hoping to resolve the mystery of the dream that I had. Connor eventually came back to me and told me who you were and the long feud you two had, believing the dream, because he had one too. I came here to help him, but he didn't want it so I came here... I don't know why, but I... I don't know." I put the painting on the floor and finished picking up the pictures. I put them all back on the table where I began to organize them by date. I looked back at him and he was just standing there, menacingly. I looked back at the pictures and grabbed my sword, looking at it.

"He gave this to me when training was done -which I had no idea it was- and I was so happy because it was my great Grandfather's sword that he gave to Connor. I took it with great honor and pretended to sleep that night. Duncan MacLeod -another immortal that was from Connor's clan 200 years later then him- told Connor that I lost my... honor to him and Connor got angry that we did that, so he got angry and I left, and killed my Father. Connor didn't like that so I left him and hid in a cave for 2 years, when Duncan found me again and we dated. I became a human killer after we departed 5 years later. I only killed people that deserved it, but every night I see those people in my dreams and I hate it, I want it to stop. But it won't and there is no man or immortal that can help me forget about what I did." I went into my bag again and pulled out the painting of me and Connor and stared at it.

"Connor and I used to date and it was one of the best things for me... I guess. I... I hate you," I said and stood up, walking past him and to his room where I slammed the door, locking it. Why did I do that -why did I tell him all of that-?" Soon enough he came to the door and he just stood there. I sighed, unlocking it and went to the bed where I sat and lit up some marijuana. He sat down at the table and began to put his sword together and I sat on the edge of the bed and watched him, putting my chin on his shoulder, once again to mess with him.