the muffled, gagged screams of a man that was not in the frame.
“I just want to tell my daughter that Daddy loves you… And…” He gasped for air, let out a succession of crying groans into his hands, and then regained himself. “I didn’t want to be the one who had to do this, but… there was no choice.
“My wife, my beautiful wife”—then his face turned into a grotesque snarl with his lips pulled back from his teeth and his nose folding up toward his brow—“was TAKEN by this DISEASE! ”
There was a sharp scream, and Troy Webber pulled Robert King into the frame by his white hair. The Boss’s eyes were open as wide as they would go, and his mouth was stuffed with a pair of socks, held in with a belt. His nose was dripping blood onto the socks in his mouth and the silky pajama shirt he had on his torso.
He was just about to go to sleep, when this man broke in.
Like his captor, Robert King was crying. The Boss was shaking his head back and forth frantically, trying to say something, but the gag made his words unintelligible.
“As I’ve said,” the police officer growled, “this is a live broadcast, so there isn’t much time before I kill this murderer, but I want to hear him beg.” Troy pulled the bloody gag out of Robert King’s mouth. As the Boss started coughing, Troy pulled him closer by his hair and whispered—“Squeal for me, piggy. Let me hear you beg, Robby!”
King withdrew from the police officer’s breath, and looked at the camera; “I’m not Robert King,” he said.
Troy pulled the man close again and with tears still streaming down his cheeks screamed: “BEG FOR ME! BEG LIKE MY WIFE BEGGED THE DOCTORS!” Caught in the moment, Troy pulled the restrained man’s face closer and sunk his teeth into cheek; he bit hard, pulling and tugging at the grotesquely elastic skin.
Blood ran down King’s face and his screaming reached a new level of panic. “I’M NOT ROBERT KING!”
“OWN UP TO IT,” Troy yelled with bloody teeth.
“I DIDN’T KILL YOUR WIFE!”
Troy was done talking. The rage in his face was beyond reason at this point. He lunged at Robert King, tackling him out of the frame. There was more yelling, and the sound of a struggle. Then “Please, please.”
A series of seven gunshots followed. After the first three there was screaming, and the last four were followed by only Troy crying.
When the police officer reemerged into the screen, he was covered in an obscene amount of blood. He slicked his red, sticky hair back with one hand, and got out his cell phone with the other. He dialed and let it play on speaker.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“My name is Troy Webber, and I have just killed Robert King, CEO of Alfatrex at 6390 Roaming Seas. I’ll be in the dining room, unarmed, when the authorities enter. My hands will be up. I’ll come peacefully.”
He clicked off the phone, and looked down at the body for a moment. His tears were mixing with the blood, and the animalistic aggression had again been replaced with sadness. He looked into the camera and said: “I’m so sorry, baby,” presumably to his daughter, then the video went dark.
In the cave, the candles were still flickering, and Asa’s hair was beginning to dry. Teddy turned to him and said, “What did you think of that?”
Asa didn’t know where to begin. Is it over? Is the Academy going to cease to exist now? Are people going to come and save us from this place? And what does this
“I just want to tell my daughter that Daddy loves you… And…” He gasped for air, let out a succession of crying groans into his hands, and then regained himself. “I didn’t want to be the one who had to do this, but… there was no choice.
“My wife, my beautiful wife”—then his face turned into a grotesque snarl with his lips pulled back from his teeth and his nose folding up toward his brow—“was TAKEN by this DISEASE! ”
There was a sharp scream, and Troy Webber pulled Robert King into the frame by his white hair. The Boss’s eyes were open as wide as they would go, and his mouth was stuffed with a pair of socks, held in with a belt. His nose was dripping blood onto the socks in his mouth and the silky pajama shirt he had on his torso.
He was just about to go to sleep, when this man broke in.
Like his captor, Robert King was crying. The Boss was shaking his head back and forth frantically, trying to say something, but the gag made his words unintelligible.
“As I’ve said,” the police officer growled, “this is a live broadcast, so there isn’t much time before I kill this murderer, but I want to hear him beg.” Troy pulled the bloody gag out of Robert King’s mouth. As the Boss started coughing, Troy pulled him closer by his hair and whispered—“Squeal for me, piggy. Let me hear you beg, Robby!”
King withdrew from the police officer’s breath, and looked at the camera; “I’m not Robert King,” he said.
Troy pulled the man close again and with tears still streaming down his cheeks screamed: “BEG FOR ME! BEG LIKE MY WIFE BEGGED THE DOCTORS!” Caught in the moment, Troy pulled the restrained man’s face closer and sunk his teeth into cheek; he bit hard, pulling and tugging at the grotesquely elastic skin.
Blood ran down King’s face and his screaming reached a new level of panic. “I’M NOT ROBERT KING!”
“OWN UP TO IT,” Troy yelled with bloody teeth.
“I DIDN’T KILL YOUR WIFE!”
Troy was done talking. The rage in his face was beyond reason at this point. He lunged at Robert King, tackling him out of the frame. There was more yelling, and the sound of a struggle. Then “Please, please.”
A series of seven gunshots followed. After the first three there was screaming, and the last four were followed by only Troy crying.
When the police officer reemerged into the screen, he was covered in an obscene amount of blood. He slicked his red, sticky hair back with one hand, and got out his cell phone with the other. He dialed and let it play on speaker.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“My name is Troy Webber, and I have just killed Robert King, CEO of Alfatrex at 6390 Roaming Seas. I’ll be in the dining room, unarmed, when the authorities enter. My hands will be up. I’ll come peacefully.”
He clicked off the phone, and looked down at the body for a moment. His tears were mixing with the blood, and the animalistic aggression had again been replaced with sadness. He looked into the camera and said: “I’m so sorry, baby,” presumably to his daughter, then the video went dark.
In the cave, the candles were still flickering, and Asa’s hair was beginning to dry. Teddy turned to him and said, “What did you think of that?”
Asa didn’t know where to begin. Is it over? Is the Academy going to cease to exist now? Are people going to come and save us from this place? And what does this
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