"Nothin' Personal Only Business" A Thursday Nightmare Novel.
![Picture](/uploads/5/2/5/8/52583675/published/publish-wing2.jpg?1668037102)
This novel has been created with the help of:
Publishing House Wing® 202
Author- Nedyalko ‘Black Wing’ Delchev.
Editor- Nedyalko Delchev.
® © 2022.
This story is a long time in the making, with a very specific process of creation. At first I wanted to add too many details, when it reality it didn’t need it, the story was rich in itself. So please, enjoy the way of vengeance of the masked host with the Red mask!
Content:
Chapter 1- ~Only for Entertainment~
Chapter 2- ~Preparations~
Chapter 3- ~Let the Show Begin~
Chapter 4- ~Tables Turned~
Chapter 5- ~Redemption~
Chapter 6- ~Three Sinners~
Chapter 7- ~Staring at the Barrel~
Epilogue.
Credits.
“Sometimes life likes to play sick games with poor souls. This time, the sick and twisted game is going to be mastered by those poor souls…and it will be damned!”
Ned Black.
Enjoy the Story!
Chapter 1 – Only For Entertainment
“This story…this whole retelling of my past deeds and personal revenge are a glaring and unending vortex of my mind that I wish to silence and fade, because the more I think about those days, the more my mind goes blank with no emotion. I was a simple, ordinary man, who did nothing wrong…a person who minded his own business, until everything was left to pieces…everything was ruined. I will not share everything now, though…for as you are reading those lines, will soon understand the whole picture, being it gruesome and at times too brutal to handle…but that is life, and life can be brutal. That being said, this is the start of my story, about personal revenge…about a “scientific” project, I liked to call, “Nothing Personal”.
Chapter 1.”
Once he opened his eyes, he made out that…he was not in his car. In fact, no one was. Not his daughter or his wife. They were in a basement of sorts. The first thing he saw was his family; all tied up to two pillars, front facing him. He himself was tied in a matter in which he could not move his body. Only his right hand was extended also via pole, and was tied in a way where he could move his wrist as he pleased. Livia was asleep, while Joanna looked around with a glare of fright.
-Honey, are you okay? – asked the tied man, looking at Joanna.
His wife fixated her sight on him and immediately started crying rivers.
-Oh Mark, tell me this is some kind of prank! Please! – She cried out, startling little Livia in the process.
-Mom? – She muttered as she started waking up, - Where are we? What happened? – asked the girl looking around.
Mark was not sure either, but answered honestly. The last thing he remembered was that they got in the car all together, and a minute inside…they suddenly fell asleep.
-Don’t worry honey, it is all a prank, you will see – replied the father and started trying to break free from the tight ropes that carved more and more into his skin with each pull.
Joanna looked around as well, but the only thing besides the two large wooden poles, was a chair and a large hammer.
-I could try ripping the rope and taking the hammer, with it, I could break the poles, and we could escape! – said the mother and attempted to free herself.
It was not as easy as it seemed though. The ropes were not those regular ones where it was a single piece of string. It was a big batch of twisted textile, which wrapped around their bodies almost perfectly. She still tried. The rope did not give up so easily as she thought, making that plan rather redundant. Mark tried to break free, but the hard materials of the rope only made him feel more pain.
-Daddy I want to go home! – Cried little Livia.
She was struggling to get out as much as she could, but alike her mother and father, her results were not blissful. She was close to freezing and that itself was bad news. Old memories of her being scared resurfaced in his thoughts, but now was not the time for that. All they could do, was stand there, all tied up…to the wooden poles, thick and unbreakable.
-Mark, do you know who could be doing this? – asked Joanna while trying to calm down the little girl.
His brain raced but none of the people he knew could have possibly done this. There was no need, he did not have enemies, nor did he care if he did. His job was to sale cars, what kind of enemies does a car salesmen have?
-No dear, I do not think someone we knew did this…- he replied running through all the people he knew once again.
Both their eyes locked into a hopeless stare down, as if it was going to be the last time they would see each other. Her hair was brushed to the side revealing her young and kept face with no wrinkles or freckles or any kind of abnormality. Maybe now, in this situation a large slit over her forehead was formed from stress. Her eyes greenly reflected himself, staring at her anxious body. It was not his thing to be scared of something bad happening, but right now, Mark did not feel lucky. His mind then turned to his little girl that looked as if she was numb and almost unimpressed by these strange matters. She was frozen in fear, and it was clear it was going to take some time before she goes back to normal. Her swollen eyes were bluer than before, making her raven strands glow in this dark place. If not for himself, Mark was more afraid about them. They were his everything, and he did not want to lose them. Not that he was going to; his brain was only giving him thoughts about something bad happening. That sort of mindset was not going to lead to nowhere.
-Okay, let us stay focused on the task of escaping this place, we do not know where we are, I do not believe we have a way to contact someone, so I suggest we start screaming for help in an attempt to bring someone to us! – suggested the father and looked at both of the girls.
Only the mother nodded, and he counted to three, as their voices combined into a siren that could even wake up the dead. They screamed with all they had. Now the only thing they could do…was wait…and they did not wait long, in fact, they did not wait at all.
-Ah, so my stars have woken up, huh? – said a voice, coming from behind a door leading to somewhere.
A man dressed in a red suit entered the room. His leather shoes shined with a red hue as the light of the bulb illuminated a small amount of things in the room. His trousers, shirt, vest and coat were red. His tie was even red. As the man came closer to the others, they could see that his hair was red. That bright nuance of the color. Everything was matching; the only odd thing was his slight smirk.
-Well, now that all the players are awake, we shall commence the game; - He stated and clapped his hands.
Joanna immediately started asking him tons of questions, questions he said, were pointless.
-Look people, we are all here to have some fun! I know I took you guys by force, sorry, but for the fun games to be actually fun, they need to be kept secret! – explained the man gesturing towards the place.
-Why are we all tied up!? – continued Joanna.
She was viciously trying to force her way out of the dilemma. The red man chuckled and sat on the chair that they saw before. He crossed his legs and then his fingers on top.
-Look. You are a part of a…experiment of mine. I cannot explain the details, until it is proven right or wrong. Until then, I suggest you all to behave and do your parts as instructed, okay? - He stood up and grabbed something from the pocket of the jacket.
It was a gun. His eyes, darkened by the sight of it. He then turned to Mark, and placed the firearm in his extended hand. It was sticky and it glued to his skin perfectly.
-Now, we can finally begin. Mark here has a pistol. It contains one 9mm bullet in a perfectly functional Luger. The task is simple. I have to ask him a question, and if he answers me correctly, he can move on to the next round and so on and so on. However, if he chooses wrong, he has to make a really important decision, and pay attention because this is the most important bit. He has to decide whom to shoot between Joanna and Livia! – explained the red man, gesturing as if he was in TV show.
-WHAT?! – yelled the parents, almost in sync.
-You cannot fucking make me do this! – exclaimed the father.
-This is illegal release us, this instant! – demanded the mother.
They tried with all their might to free from the chains that were the ropes, but no one managed to untangle from this twisted vise. Mark even tried pointing the gun at the man, but his wrist could extend only soo little.
-Now, now…please, do not be like this, I am only trying to question the stability in a person’s mind and see how would they perform in certain scenarios, nothing more! – He said, but could not help but chuckle.
-Screw you man! I do not even know you, why do not you just let us go! – Mark shouted at the man, trying fiercely to do something.
-But that is the most important thing. You do not need to know the person you are going to be examining. The more you do not know about them, the better the results from their actions.
Mark tried forcing his hand to unleash the gun, but it was way too sticky, and the surface was already fused with him.
-We will not be in this game! Leave us alone and we will not press charges or call the police, just leave us here! – pleaded Mark, looking at his daughter.
Joanna tuned in too, trying to make the red man believe and release them from this strange place.
-I am sorry, this is mainly for science! I will not let you go, without my results…so, unless you want to speed up the process…- he said and took the large hammer from the ground, - I suggest, we start now! – explained the man in a deeper, scarier than before voice, taking a step towards Livia, who still did not believe this was actually happening.
-Okay, okay. Do not hurt her; please, I will play this game! – accepted the tied father and felt as if everything was going to end badly.
The red man brushed his hair backwards and smiled.
-Well then, let us begin! – announced the well-dressed fellow and pointed at Mark.
He took two steps and was now in between all three of the tied participants.
-We will start with an easy one. Mark, do you sell cars? – asked the red man.
He nodded, but the man continued looking at him, waiting for a proper answer.
-Yes, I sell cars in town, working for a dealership specializing in 4x4’s mostly “Range Rovers”.
The red man nodded and asked another question.
-Do you love your work? –
Mark felt stupid answering those things, but looking at the hammer and the hopelessness he was in, there was not another way.
-Yes, I do. There is not a day in which I go there miserable – he answered, trying his best to sound honest.
The suited fellow seemed intrigued by his answer, yet continued with a hand holding his chin.
-Mark, do you love your family? – He asked, still holding his chin with his palm.
-Well of course I do! – answered the man instantly.
There was not even a slight hesitation in that.
-Yes, but they are here, aren’t they? If you truly loved them, you would have made it so to not let them be in danger! – pointed out the man.
He…well, he was right. If Mark had done better in terms of protection, they would be doing something better right now.
-Don’t listen to him Mark, he is playing with your mind! – Agitatedly said Joanna, who was watching all of this with pure dread in her stomach.
The red man told her to keep quiet.
-Now, Mark, one last thing and we might be closer to the finish line. What do you think; the future will bring to your family? – asked the red man and looked at him directly, intensely, as if he was waiting for something to happen.
Feeling uneasy, he tried answering.
-I strive to bring happiness and positivity into my family. The future cannot be imagined, it can only happen. I do want to make sure that everything is fine, that my girls are safe and happy with my job and the stability we have in our community. Which is why I would say, I would like the future to be as is the present now – said the tied man and looked at the red fellow.
He was smiling. Not smirking or anything, smiling as if he was remembering something special.
-This is where you are wrong Mark…you cannot change the past, but you can try to alter the future. Yes, sometimes things are written one way, and trying to do them another, often leads to nowhere…but now, I shall like to confuse your future and ask you to choose the fates of your two girls – calmly explained the red man.
-Wait, why?! Didn’t I answer correctly? – He asked looking at his wife and daughter with a scared look.
Joanna started crying, while Livia remained untouched. She was petrified from fear and did not move at all. She used to do that when she was little, and had not frozen like that in a long time.
-You answered correctly, but that is the entire point in this game. You said what you thought was right, only for me to throw a curve ball and make everything mess your head up. So, which one shall you shoot?! – He asked again, this time griping the hammer with both hands.
-I will not shoot anyone! You hear me! I will not do it!
Mark was yelling but that did not seem to do the trick. The red man got behind Livia, who was still frozen, and extended the hammer in the air.
-Do not make me choose for you Mark, this is your game not mine!
The tied father could not bear to watch. His fingers were all sweaty, and his hands shaking. Thinking about shooting one of his own was a thing that could break a person. Thinking of shooting anyone at that matter was exhausting. However, having to pick one, seeing what would happen if he didn’t, made it worse. Joanna was pleading with the red man to let her little girl go, to pick her, to hit her with the hammer and not harm Livia.
-Mark make him stop, shoot me, do not let him harm her! Please! – She yelled and cried from the hopeless position she was in.
-You are a freak!!! Making us go through this! A goddamn freak! – shouted the tied man and let the tears stain his sight.
The hammer ascended even more. If he struck her with that inertia, her head would explode from the impact. Mark knew that, which was why he pleaded for him to stop. The red man wasn’t going to though. His patience was gone. The hammer started collapsing downwards, going through a course for the head of little Livia. A loud bang followed, echoing in the small basement, stopping the hammers flow. A bit of smoke came out of the old Luger, with a single 9mm bullet, shot, directly in the heart of Joanna. Mark was broken. So was the heart of the mother, having a bullet stuck inside it. She quickly faded away with pains she would not ever imagine having to feel. The red man saw the shock, yet acceptance of her death, over her daughter’s, and respected that. Yet, he still wanted to see if everything was correct. The hammer was once again lifted, and then smashed, into the girl’s pretty head. The cracking sound it made when the large chunk of metal collided with her skull and pierced the brain was amazing for the ears of the red man. The shock and screams of the father further fueled the suited fellow’s imagination of having to understand a person’s mind. It made him feel whole, made him feel like he was right about the universe, and how it operated. Mark however was hysterical and could not believe the things he was seeing. Not only did his wife just die, but also his little girl was killed brutally. His clothes were covered in her brain, blood, and parts of the skull. Where her head once beautifully graced everyone was now a bloodied old hammer, fractured into her body like a sight from an old medieval movie.
-What did you do? – Only managed to ask the tied man, - What did you do? – His voice got higher and higher each time he asked him that, - What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?
The red man wiped his hands and smirked at the poor soul. That was all he needed, nothing more, nothing less. The experiment was a success. Now he only needed live footage of the process, and all would be considered a huge development into the matter of pain and breaking a person’s existence.
-What did you do? What did you do? What did you do? – continued asking Mark, not being able to say anything more.
His heart was crying, so was his brain. The only thing he could do was watch the outcome of his actions. The only thing he could do…was cry.
-What did you do? What did you do? What did you do?
The red man walked besides the two bodies and waved goodbye to Mark, who was still asking the same thing repeatedly.
-What did you do? What did you do? – He asked over and over again.
Once out of the small basement, the climbed the stairs up and left the small wreck. His head was now covered in a red hat. A full red coating, for a red devil as he was. Smirking, he walked towards his brand new “Range Rover” and once again managed to hear the haunting gurgled scream of the same question “WHAT DID YOU DOOOOO!?” The man now laughed and started the engine.
-Nothing personal…only for entertainment – he whispered and sped off, leaving the cries of a defeated man to echo in the vast nothingness in the middle of nowhere.
Chapter 2 –Preparations
The range rover he stole was driving quite nicely. He did not really have to think about the actual driving, for the autopilot option was kindly providing its services to the very much-unmasked murderer, sitting behind the wheel, and almost emotionlessly staring at the moving landscapes as if they were nothing but beginner drawn pieces of fabric with no soul. Red, as he was known among the circle of followers he had managed to strike and gather to aid in actually succeeding in this endeavor only knew the cruel, wicked, harsh and devilish kind of his. They did not know what was actually going on inside the mind of the person. Inside the head of an almost broken man, who did not have anything going on in his life. A car suddenly flashed by his side window, and his memory started flowing. He started seeing himself, almost three years ago. It was beginning to darken, just as it was now. Martin Velichkov, a regular nobody was just getting back home from his nine to five job. He was not really all there in his head, kind of like most people. He was walking, on the regular old street, on the regular old and boring Tuesday, when he suddenly stopped to see something. To check something, actually. In the side of his view, there was something like a person laying on the ground in one of the side nooks of the street, which led to a dead end. He took a peak, just because he was curious, and helping this person could not harm him. Oh how wrong he was! As Martin kneed to see the thing wrapped in a white blanket, his eyes expanded by the signs of blood, splattered on the sides of the wrap. His heart started beating faster, and as he moved away the side covering the face, he was stricken with the realization that he had just found…a dead body of a girl whose eyes were missing out of their sockets. He managed to muffle the scream, but as he was about to do something, a family of three just happened to pass by. They looked happy, just gotten out of the cinema, having watched a good movie. Did they expect to find and see what they were seeing now? To look at a person who was kneeing on the ground looking at a corpse. When the little girl finally saw him, she pointed with a shook face.
-Daddy, look! There is a dead girl! – screamed Livia, staring directly in the eyes of Martin, whose mind had gotten completely blank.
He could have said something, anything to spread the suspicion off him, but he did not say a word.
-Honey, call the police quickly! – said Joanna and grabbed the forearm of her husband.
Mark nodded, and as he took his phone from his pocket, another person emerged from the bland and boring day, a person he had never seen before. He was just looking, not doing anything. His excitement was clear by the look on his face. Martin could not forget it, for he was dark-skinned, and had gotten his phone out to record the happening. All the while Martin just stood there, trying to find the right words to explain.
“I just happened to pass by and saw her?” – As if that was going to work.
Before he knew it, an officer named Matey had already grabbed him by his collar and had turned him upside down. He was telling him his rights, but the only thing he was hearing was the siren of the police car. It was soo loud and annoying he barely could keep a straight face. More people started to crowd up on the boring street on this boring Tuesday, to witness a socially awkward man being arrested for something he did not do. The nightmares that followed afterwards were about to set in the mind of the murderer, when a set of headlights managed to snap him out of this reminiscence of old and hard memories. He tried to notch on to his last thought, about being arrested for something that he did not do. That was his leading point he could not forget, and sometimes, even in the darkest parts in his stay in prison, he would wish he actually did it, so that all those tortures and nightmares that befell him had some weight. Red smirked bitterly and looked at the map. He was almost there. He had to kick his mind back to the “social’ project. There was nothing social about this project of his, well if you discount the people participating in it, or the humane factor behind the experiment.
“What would you do under stress? What kind of decisions would you calculate to be correct under extreme fear? And how much sick fucks would pay to watch someone be confined in this situation and ask for different stipulations?”
Those were all questions he was about to answer…both in a way to secure his future, and both in a way to redeem his past and exact his revenge, for that was the main purpose. Money did not matter all this much. It was the humiliation, the darkness behind his self and the darkness surrounded him in his past that defiled and dishonored him. He, the mask of the red death, wanted to change that, for he was the bringer of judgement.
…
It was getting very dark outside and the roads were thin, and very dangerous if you were not paying attention. The autopilot was long gone, and to escape the trap hole of his thoughts, Red had started his favorite music channel on the radio, and was listening to some nice rhythmic tunes. He was listening to the guitar solo of the song, when the building started being visible in the distance. He squinted, and then turned left on the road, that split and lead to nowhere. In this building, he was going to orchestrate the masquerade of the century. He smiled, when the song ended and turned off the radio. He saw how another masked person exited the house and waved him to stop the car. The person was wearing a mask, but being dark outside Red could not see. Only when the Rover stopped a few meters from him, he managed to distinguish an orange wooden mask of a fox, with its mouth wide open. It had a large chain drawn inside the mouth, as if it was depicting the fox destroying the chain with its mouth. Red quickly left the vehicle, and moved closer to the person.
-Evening Chains, how are preparations going in the HQ? – asked the red everything gentleman and pointed at the building which on its outside did not look much like anything.
With a very raspy voice, the fox masked person told him to follow him. As they entered, Red was faced with something that looked akin to “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?”. There was something like a chair, but like those from all the clubs, elevated in the air, and another seat, still in preparation to the next guest. The lighting was very broody, set in dark green specter, with the background behind the host, also dark green with a hint of blue; with the addition of the name of the scientific show, they were going to produce here, “Nothing Personal”.
-What about the broadcast? – asked the red suited fellow.
Chains nodded and pointed him to a room overlooking the set. There Boombox, a person with the mask of Mozart, was clicking and doing things that Red did not know. Boom showed him a set of computers all showing the front-page of a website appropriately called like the show. There was a big blue button for donations, chat and propositions. Those were going to be key in some instances, but those were going to be shown later, for Red was a sucker for suspense.
-We have a service that automatically redirects our IP address and changes it every five minutes for extra precaution, also, no one under eighteen is allowed, for we use the actual ids of the people that come in here and make sure they are not traced in any shape or form. I have managed to invite a few hundred people from the forums and sites of dealers and whatnot, so I should expect we hit at least 1k when we start the broadcast – Declared Boombox and took a sip of his soda.
Chains entered the room and handed him a list of supplies, weapons and names to which Red nodded.
-We are waiting on Hammer for the supplies of weapons, Scythe is still waiting for the right time to do his thing, Boom and I are personally ready with the set and the broadcast – said Chains.
Red smiled and felt the excitement reach his brain. Oh, he was very excited to kill, and be done with this act of…brutal social mumbo-jumbo. He had forgotten, well not all there so, about his sad episode in the car, and now all he could think of, besides the start of the wicked show, was how fortunate was he to work with such interesting people, who were going to help him.
-Splendid! Now, announce on our show’s news page that the show is about to begin soon, but do not let them know when. They will get a message as soon as it posts live on the site, right? – exclaimed the well-dressed man and looked at Boom who nodded.
The Mozart fellow quickly wrote a few sentences and posted them on the news page, where the image of a computer screen had the message “Please remain calm, the fun soon begins?” It was not a very esthetically pleasing phrasing, but it did not matter, for what did was the second message that appeared in the phone of the red dressed man. It was from Scythe telling him, “I CAUGHT THE PRIZE!”.
Red smiled and looked at both of his accomplices.
-Let’s get ready for the show!
Chapter 3 – Let the Show Begin
The stage was almost set. The broadcast was ready. There were already a few hundred people patiently awaiting the start of the stream, while the main guest was beyond terrified for it. Scythe had done his job according to the plan, and now the man with the skull mask was leaning peacefully on a chair in the broadcasting room, where Chains and Boombox were observing the start of their project. Hammer joined them too, wearing his usual golden mask, with a hammer and shield encrusted on the forehead. The spotlight was not on them however, for everyone's attention was thrown at Red, whose glorious red costume, from head to toe was brightening up the gloomy and brooding atmosphere of the set. That was the plan. The man with the red mask gave the signal for them to start broadcasting the show and smirked behind his mask. Boombox pushed the start button, and all the viewers sitting at home were brought with a melody that would fit almost every game show in existence. Then, the transition to the studio smoothly switched to the video signal of the camera that was recording everything. It was showing Red, whose hands were spread wide open, with the name of the show glowing blue behind him in a perfect contrast to his appearance.
-Welcome.....to our show, "Nothing Personal". My name is Red, and I am here to entertain you and our guest through the ongoing show. Now, you may ask, what kind of show is this going to be? Well, dear audience, this show is whatever the hell we want it to be. A game show, a quiz show, a torture show, you name it! Today, it is going to be all three of them. However, do not mistake our show for something boring and blunt, no no. Our show, it is filled with color, mainly red and black, but you get the gist. Now, for our guest of the evening. We have this feller who traveled exclusively to our set with the bright idea to be a part of the historical pilot episode. Give a warm welcome to Mr. Victor! - He clapped and the camera panned to a tied up dark-skinned man sitting on a chair with a wild look in his eyes.
He was struggling to escape the confinement of the ropes but it was to no avail. Scythe was a professional hunter, so he would not let his prey escape so easily.
-Victor right here! - Continued Red and pointed - has been brought to us because he had been a man not only plagued by sin, but because he did not do what was considered humane. We will get to that point, but I want to establish the rules of today's game - Red pointed above him.
There were three shotguns elevated in the open, all aiming down at Victor, who suddenly felt even more fear about his current situation.
-Above us, you see three perfectly fine and functioning standard model seven round, twelve gauge shotguns. With the rules of our game that we are going to establish in a moment, these guns will regulate if our contestant over here is telling the truth, or in this regard the correct answer - explained Red and sat on his fancy stool.
He rotated around and then faced Victor directly. The dark man was sweating and looking at the whole set, trying to identify something that could help him feel relaxed in this situation. Sadly, he could not make up anything. The tape around his lips was preventing him from verbally assaulting the strange man dressed in all red. Red however was enjoying this, more than he could know.
-And now for the rules, dear watchers. Mr. Victor here is going to be subjected to questions, to whom he has to answer correctly. There is not a wrong answer, but technically, if it is not correct, one of those shotguns is going to fire directly into him. Those two on the sides are aimed at his shoulder and knee, but the middle one is directly pointed at his head. Imagine what a twelve gauge can do in this distance - Red looked at Victor, and if he could wink, he would but the victim wasn't going to see it, - As for the questions, some of them are going to be from the audience in the stream, while the main ones are going to be from me! Is everything clear? - He finished and looked at the chat system next to him.
All the viewers were typing "clear" and skull emoticons. Red smirked. He looked at the viewer count and was surprised to see it had bumped up to three thousand currently watching viewers. That brought even more joy to this man, to the twisted personification of the red death.
-One more detail, - he said and looked directly at the camera, - Those of you who tip our show can personally issue a question, and according punishment if deemed necessary for the situation. Since this is the first show, I shall allow the final decision to be that of the viewers! - said Red and clapped with his hands.
-Let the fun begin! - He shouted and the lights turned red and a spotlight fell upon Victor, who tied up and muted was sitting and awaiting his fate.
Red quickly went to him and got closer.
-When I remove the tape I expect you to not scream, otherwise one of those shotguns might just blow your shoulder out! - He said and quickly removed the tape covering his mouth.
Victor started coughing and looked his captor with such a look, that if it could kill, Red would fall dead. The masked man liked that! He sat back on his chair and the camera panned to Victor, who was breathing heavily.
-Now, ladies and gentlemen, let me allow you the privilege of knowing a bit of Victor’s story. He was a good, a very good graduate of his school of choosing and in fact, he had a bright future ahead of him, yet one day, he was a witness a stander who just happened to pass by something truly tragic. A little girl was killed and left to rot in a small alleyway, when a young man found her body. It looked as If he was the murderer and the upcoming people felt that way. They blamed him. Not one asked him what was going on. Not even the pristine Victor, who was all about the righteous shit and how everyone deserves a chance. Well, Mr. Victor has now the opportunity to redeem himself and prove to the people that he truly in fact felt some kind of pity for the poorly blamed man. In addition, answer the questions I have provided today! - established Red and checked the chat.
People were typing, "Kill him" and "fire those guns" but Red wanted to toy around a bit. He looked at the heavily breathing man, who had not muttered a word since he was freed from the tape.
-Are you ready to play, Mr. Victor? - asked Red and grinned from behind his sigil of choice.
The camera panned to him and for a second, he and the lens made eye contact. With a sore throat, he answered.
-Fuck you! – screamed the man, trying to suppress the fear that had entered him from the very moment he opened his eyes and saw that he was not at home, but at a house he did not know, above the fact he was tied and subjected to see the three muzzles of the shotguns.
Red laughed, genuinely and slapped his knee.
-Hilarious, alright then, let us proceed with Question 1! - He said and his eyes that stared into the man became, darker.
-Is your full name Victor Francis Duffer?
He nodded, but Red continued to stare awaiting a verbal answer.
-Yes!
Red nodded and looked at his tablet, set in front of him, just like those other game shows.
-Question 2. Are you a man of rightness and believe in equal rights?
That felt like an odd question.
-Yes! I believe that everyone has a chance for everything.
Red smirked and felt an itch in his head.
-Please, elaborate! - Further instructed Red.
Victor looked at him not exactly knowing how to proceed but he continued talking further.
-I believe in today's day of age, not everyone respects the opinions of others and that itself makes it hard for people to connect and make new acquaintances. Yet, when someone is marked by people and does not get the chance to speak and maybe defend himself is probably the biggest injustice, since he is already considered a black sheep and whatever he says, valid or sound, it doesn't get heard and the person is...framed... - carefully answered the tied man.
Red watched as he said every word, trying to convey simple logic. And that logic in itself was true, but it would have been better if it did not have a major hole inside it. He was impressed by his thoughts, yet disappointed he lacked the backbone to truly practice those words. He made a sound with his tongue, the one where someone is ticked off, and does not agree with something. As Victor was about to feel a bit safe from the dooming shotguns above him, the one pointed at his knee fired without any sign of it doing so. The sound it produced as it completely obliterated his knee was enough to fill a stadium. The following scream of pure agony came second to it, but both things equally satisfied Red, who smirked the moment he heard the shotgun blast. He looked at the bloody hole left from the twelve gauge and tried to imagine what it would feel like to have his knee completely obliterated, to the point of seeing his broken bones look like a bloody salad. Victor on the other hand was throwing curses left and right, trying to subside the pain in some way, trying to make it bearable. Nevertheless, it was not supposed to be. It was supposed to hurt and inflict damage.
-I answered! I answered your question! - He yelled, grinding his teeth so much that his gums almost bled.
Red laughed and looked at the comments. Everyone was going completely ballistic and were tipping the whole production. So far, no one had tipped with instructions, but that was not important. It was important for the show to be seen, and that was exactly what was happening. He then turned his attention back to the wounded man.
-You did answer, but you lack the conviction, and plainly contradicting yourself! Not only did you make valid points, but also, you completely went over how you did the exact thing and made that poor man accused of murder actually be arrested! Your actions, being none, ended up as worse as the other people that were before you and will be after you. Therefore, Victor, yes you answered, but that answer was...unsatisfying - explained the red suited man and observed how Victor was trying to fight with the pain.
Red glanced back at the chat and saw many people type "finish him" and "end it!" but he wanted to make one last attempt of getting something from him, although it risked him answering correctly, if there was a correct answer of course.
-Very well Victor, next. This following question is going to be more of a situation, rather than anything else. Let us say you are going back home from work and you see a fallen old woman, incapable of standing up due to her old age. What is your action? - asked the Red man and leaned back on his long stool.
Victor was sweating profusely, feeling the burning sensation of losing his knee that the question he was asked completely went over this head. Not to blame him of course, it was not every day he lost a knee or two. It was his first time, and probably last, since leaving this place consisted of him being truthful and not pissing off the host of the whole ordeal. Red was tapping his crossed legs, and was observing the man. The chat was suggesting very innovative stuff, but he was still keen on waiting for a few more minutes. It was entertaining to look at one of the people responsible for all the horrible things that happened in prison. It rather felt poetic.
-I would...help her! - managed to say the tied up man, bringing Red back to the room.
-Elaborate! – Further, instructed the red suited host and grinned from behind the mask.
Victor was physically shaken...still trying to suppress the need to scream from this terrible situation he was in.
-I would help her...because it is the right thing to do!
Red nodded and looked at the chat.
"Liar!", "hypocrite!", "kill him!" - were the common chants among the five thousand currently watching. Red laughed, and Victor gulped harshly, feeling a burning lump stuck between his throat.
-Well, yes, it is the right thing to do...but that brings me to the point from earlier, WHY DID YOU NOT HELP THAT MAN?! - shouted the masked man and stood up.
Victor leaned back, but with that movement, he hurt his leg even more. Red grabbed his shirt, white and stained with snot and splattered blood.
-You...do not belong here! Not in this world where you are too chicken to stand your ground! Nevertheless, ultimately you are indeed correct Mr. Victor. Which is why I am willing to let you live - he smirked and sat back on his chair, to the massively relieved man.
-...But, I am not so sure about the chat...let us see. Should we punish Victor for his sins, or should we let him leave? I promised at the start that the final decision is going to be taken from the chat, so please, vote bellow - instructed Red and began observing the downwards spiral of thousands of comments of the same matter.
There was not one, not one comment that said mercy. The now six thousand people watching voted without any hesitation for "murder him!". The genuine smile wrapped onto Red's lips was enough. Too bad Victor could not see it, nor could he see the vote. That made him even more anxious about this.
-What did they say? - He managed to mutter looking directly at the red mask.
Pity. Red wanted to play a bit more with him, but having dealt little to no damage to him before it only felt right to save him and just end it.
-Well... - said Red and snapped his fingers.
On signal, the middle shotgun fired before Victor could understand what had happened. The twelve gauge penetrated his face and destroyed every nuance of his head that resembled a...head. There was only one oval looking shape, with no middle filling to it. Only a gaping hole...with nothing but broken bones, flesh and blood mangled together as if a toddler had played with play dough.
-My, my...what a sight! Truly, a magnificent end to this poor soul - said Red standing up, as the camera panned for the last time to the lifeless body of Victor.
-Now, I would like to thank everyone who tipped the show and those who gave suggestions. We are honored to have your attention in the long run, so we appreciate the love! With that being said, this is the end of our pilot episode, and I believe the next one should be airing very soon, so stay tuned....and remember, "Nothing Personal", only for entertainment! - Finished Red and the broadcast was over.
The Mask of the Red Death then looked towards the broadcast room where, Scythe, Boombox, Chains and Hammer observed. Everyone clapped and Red bowed to the received ovation. He was grinning the whole time, feeling more than happy for the resulted outcome.
-Well lads, who is next? - asked Scythe looking at the door behind Red.
Chapter 4 – Tables Turned
Once the broadcast entered the live stage, the audience was welcomed by the host of the show. The very well-dressed man, sporting everything red, even the mask. The neon blue logo behind him illuminated one strange and eerie feeling that made the viewers tingle in excitement about the upcoming show. After last time the viewership had skyrocketed. Fifteen thousand people were eagerly waiting for the new torturing game to begin.
-Welcome! - greeted Red, spreading his hands! - Welcome to the second episode of "Nothing Personal!" - He said and smiled behind the mask.
The chat went wild with cheers. Ever since last time, they were dying to show their passion for the show. This time however, with the amount of new people watching, it was more or so overwhelming for the moderators, being Boombox and Chains in the broadcast room to scan for good and brutal suggestions from the chat. That was a slight push back since today's episode mainly consisted of the chat and the host communicating one another in order for the victim to get his punishment. Regardless though, they were going to do their best. Boombox pushed one of the buttons operating the projector and it automatically panned to a room across the standing host in the middle. That room hid nothing more than Scythe's trophies, as he liked calling the people he was tasked with finding. Red signaled for it to be opened, and from there Hammer along with a fellow with a hood covering his face emerged and entered the main circle of the stage.
-Well ladies and gentlemen, people of all ages. Today's episode is going to be quite special for both me and you, our dear watchers. As my colleague was good enough to do, our guest this evening is probably known among those of you who have rotted inside "Dyavolsko" Penitentiary! - He said and got closer to the man, tied tightly to a chair previously occupied by Victor, who was not victorious is his own episode.
Red lifted the hood and presented the audience to a middle-aged police guard who began looking widely across the set. Once his eyes locked onto the masked man, he gasped. His baldhead and white bushy mustaches trembled as he did so. The chat immediately started bombarding the stream with threats and all kind of curses at the man. Some of course did not know anything about said person, so they remained still, awaiting the coming explanation.
-For those of you who know what this man is all about, I beg to tell you, he has not changed much. However, for those of you, who do not know this man; allow me to introduce you to one of the guards overseeing the security and the wellbeing of the cellmates in "Dyavolsko" Penitentiary, Senior Guard, Matey Zlobaski! - He said and ripped the tape over his lips.
The chat was still vigorously cursing the man, while the old man looked even more bewildered.
-What is going on!? - He asked in a thick accent.
Red grinned even wider behind his mask.
-I shall tell you! You are a part of our very interesting social show! We ask questions, or we ask the chat in the stream about what we should do. And today, you Mr. Zlobaski are a part of the newest episode! - explained Red and looked at the camera.
-I still do not understand! Why am I apart this? - asked the man looking around the set.
He was tied and unable to move, but he could clearly see this place was not some fancy studio but an ordinary house disguised as one. Not to mention, there was one small table behind the host, on which sat different tools. His mind was beginning to puzzle things together but he did not want to even think about that.
-That is a great question! Now, as I said, for those who know the old guard, I only plead for you to wait, while those who do not, I ask you to listen! - said the masked host and the camera panned to Matey.
-This man here is responsible for quite the pain...both mentally and physically! You see, as a security supervisor he is allowed at almost every section of any prison, and has almost the most authority to inflict whatever kind of punishments or other profanities.
The man on the chair seemed enraged about that. He was redder than Red's suit, and that was saying something.
-Those words are nothing but horrible lies! I have never done anything bad to any of the prisoners! - exclaimed the old man.
Red smirked behind the mask. Without a warning, he grabbed a knife, silently sitting on top of the desk and shoved it directly into the tied man's knee. He began screaming but Hammer standing behind him put another piece of tape on his mouth muffling the screams. His eyes were about to pop out of their orbits, which made Red cackle.
-Don't interrupt me! - He exclaimed and looked at the chat.
Twenty thousand people were cheering and clapping. Donations were flooding with different kind of suggestions.
"Use the hammer", "Stab his eyes out!" and other similar demands.
It was endearing how engaged these people were in the torture of a man. There was a backstory following now though, so he was bound to retell it.
-Now, as the guest rudely interrupted us, we shall continue with the story of Mr. Matey. Say, you remember the person who was wrongly accused for the murder of a girl? He is a recurring character; being this his second appearance let us name him Matt. Therefore, Matt goes to prison right? In addition, right from the gate he is met with our main guest today, that being the head guard of the prison. How interesting. Now, Mr. Matey has a kick of inflicting pain to his cellmates only because he likes doing so. But if the convicted has a portfolio larger than any regular mate does, he gets the extra special treatment. Matt in this particular situation got two of his ribs broken! - explained Red and looked at the old man.
He was still in much pain thanks to the still pultruding knife stuck in his knee, but he still shook his head, as if those allegations were just mere lies.
-Don't shake your head you old fart! Most of the people watching at home can identify all your wrongdoings! Whatever you say almost does not have any weight being in the presence of the Red Death, so might as well just admit! - Further pushed the masked man.
Matey remained stoic. He had not done anything wrong! Red looked at the comments and started reading the viewers descriptions.
-Listen to this! - said the masked host and began reading them aloud.
"This motherfucker broke my fingers when I was in prison!"
"He broke my left foot just because I tripped while he was walking in front of me!"
"He dislocated my shoulder and nearly broke my head because I was smuggling cigars!"
- These are just a few of the comments online, now are you denying these allegations as well? - asked Red feeling the need to inflict some sort of repercussions.
Matey shook his head. He was persistently avoiding the need to actually express some kind of remorse. His eyes still filled with pain now screamed anger, just by looking at his captor.
-No, again? Interesting. You are backed up to a wall and still intend to remain silent?! - That is very, very intriguing, yet foolish! - mocked the masked host and approached the table with different tools.
It was time to use the chat to inflict pain. He hesitated about which tool to pick, but finally picked a nail clipper, a little bit larger than a normal one and grinned. He then showed the camera his tool of choice and turned to face the man.
-The people on the stream are telling me to inflict as much as damage to your fingers, just as you did to one of our viewers earlier. So tell me again Mr. Matey, are you ready to repent?! - asked Red and snapped the clippers right in his face.
The old man gulped hard, everyone heard it, but did not give up his stoic behavior.
-Very well then! - Almost maniacally, laughed the man and placed the clipper onto his index finger, while his hands were restrained.
Without hesitation, he squeezed the clippers in order to…well clip his fingers. The sharp edges got closer to the meat, and once the force was enough, they started tearing the flesh apart. Even through the tape around his mouth, Matey was screaming just loudly enough to make Red even more ecstatic with the idea of clipping his finger. The force that needed to be applied in order for his finger to be cut, was quite a lot, but the masked man had a personal vendetta over this pig. Gripping the metal handles as much as possible, he finally pushed through, just so that the finger of the corrupted police guard to chop off clean from the bone. Once it fell on the floor, the chat went berserk. The donations were enough so that they could actually stop the episode and still profit…But it was far from over.
-Well, Mr. Zlobaski, how are we feeling?! – asked Red and leaned closer to him.
The man looked up with tears in his eyes. His baldhead was covered in sweat, and his eyes…dark and evil were still looking at the masked host with nothing but pure will. He was not going to break so easily.
-Good, I did not want you to break so easily…just after one finger…let us try a few more!
Red picked the middle finger this time and applied the needed pressure at start, and the finger went flying. Then the moved to the ring finger. The clippers were doing their job…well, not particularly in this situation, but the needed task was done brilliantly. The host grinned widely, as he stopped to marvel at his creation. He had only two fingers left on his left hand…the one he used to abuse everyone. Only the thumb and the pinky remained.
-Now would be a very good time for you to accept that repenting for your mistakes is not going to take such a big toll on you! You just have to beg for forgiveness, and the chat might…accept it! – said the red dressed man and looked at the chat.
“We will never forgive him!”, “Kill the pig!”; “Use the hammer!”
Red sighed and the immediately laughed. They were right to be filled with rage and unwavering hatred for the man who made their stay in an already hellish place, even more of a hell. He didn’t have the right to…listen to him and make him plead….we has going to inflict as much as pain to him…until HE is begging for him to stop. This time it was not just about the questions…it was about…pure unadulterated anger. The masked man turned to face the table and picked the hammer, just as the chat wanted. Now it was time to punish the legs…the legs that destroyed poor Matt.
-With this hammer, I am going to break all of your bones in your legs…because ladies and gentlemen, this demon broke our dear Matt’s ribs, using his legs, kicking and kicking until our poor framed friend could no longer feel anything, struggling to breathe just because a freak like him can walk around spreading “justice”. Well….let there be justice! – Yelled the host and swung the hammer.
The trajectory was well organized and with the amount of force needed, he managed to land just below the knife, still sticking out of the knee, and hit his long bone. The shattering sound of breaking bones was soo pleasant for the audience that another wave of donations flooded the screens of the moderators in the upper room. Matey who was gripping his teeth with his taped mouth could not help but scream. He could only scream and scream until he no longer had a voice to use. Red swing the hammer again, and this time the top of the head landed just on the handle of the knife, and that completely shattered everything in the knee. The dent looked ugly and malformed. Even the masked man shivered…but with chills of ecstasy.
-How does it feel, Mr. Zlobaski?
The police guard was struggling to cope with everything. Red nodded for Hammer to remove the tape, and as he did, the poor man started to breathe heavily, with rhythmic gasps and coughs. He was tired…shattered and broken, and it still was not enough to fully allow him to change. Matey looked up, and spat an ugly gob, that landed by the feet of Red. If people were too see his face, they would notice one vein throbbing angrily.
-Do as you wish… - muttered the old man and closed his eyes.
The host did just that. The hammer swung again, and again…and again. The bones that were still intact were now condensed into dust. He did not care for where the hammer would land…he only wanted to hurt him. The head finally fell onto his foot, shattering his toes and rendering the man completely crippled. Exhausted and still eager to strike, Red shouted,
-REPENT! REPENT!
Matey seemed out of it, being battered like a dirty dog. The Mask of The Red Death swung the hammer once again and just then…the old police guard muttered,
-I…r-repent…
His voice was tired, no life, no soul in it. Everything was beaten out of it. Red stopped…he dropped the hammer and looked at the chat. They were all happy that the man had finally broken down and admitted to his crimes, that he had repented for his sins. The masked man did not feel anything. He turned around took the drill and swiftly faced him once again.
-It is far too late to fucking repent! – He said and shoved the moving drill in his eye.
The following gurgling stomach screams…made all the moderators in the room above…shiver with discomfort. The drill was rotating around the eye socket, making everything one bloody shake, but Red did not stop there, he pushed, and the drill broke his skull, and penetrated part of his brain, finally exiting from the back of his head…all bloody and still rotating violently. The man was no longer moving, nor screaming…for he was already dead. Red left the drill stuck in his head and looked at his hands and overall attire. They were all bloody. The man grinned with pleasure and looked at the chat of the stream. Cheers, applauds, donations, and admiration followed, with a new high number in concurrent viewers reaching forty thousand people. Red was laughing and wheezing from inside his mask, but kept it professional, as he turned to face the camera. He spread his hands, as to announce the end of this episode.
-And with that, my friends…I can truly say that this was one holy experience for our guest, am I right!? With that being said, I wish you all a very pleasant and bloody evening, farewell, and remember…”Nothing Personal”, only for Entertainment! – Delivered Red, and the broadcast ended.
As it did, he looked up to see his other colleagues in his revenge shaped crime and nodded. They did the same gesture and clapped. There were two more episodes to go…two more vendettas to be resolved. Red sat on his chair and closed his eyes.
“We’re going to be back after a short intermission! Stay tuned!” – He though and grinned.
Chapter 5 – Redemption
After some absence from the live stage, the red flashing indicator that the show was broadcasting was finally on, and the die-hard viewers had risen to fifty thousand from last time. An enormous number, considering they were nearly unknown, and in the span of three episodes of the show, this being the third, they grew so fast. Things however were going to rise up even more with the next episode, which was going to be the final one. That was at least their hope. With the amount of donations, the crew behind the show were going to be paid for their work, while the host did not want a share. Everything from the show, donations and whatnot was going to Hammer, Scythe, Boombox and Chains at the end of the whole thing. His contribution was the fact this show existed, and his understandings, knowledge, ideas, ideals and goals were different from theirs, and that was completely okay. Martin was different. He and his understanding of revenge. Nevertheless, that was what made that man special. The man standing in front of the camera, awaiting for the audience to see his scarlet suit, his scarlet mask and his dark heart.
The broadcast began, and the first frame the people saw, was Red posing in front of the neon blue sign with the name of the show.
-Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the third episode of "Nothing Personal!". Today's episode, just as the rest is going to be a tad special! - announced the host and the camera panned to a wooden elevated platform.
On it stood a person with a noose around his neck. His feet were all cut, bleeding and battered. His clothes were gone, only a small leather skirt hid his manly parts. His face was in agony, with his long black hair covered in sweat from the amounts of anxiety and suspense. His eyes however, blue and bold looked strong, capable of withstanding even more. That is what Red wanted, for him to keep up with the program.
-As I said, today's episode is going to be rather special. Not only the guest is probably the most important one for the show, but also today, the game is going to be based on another one! - said Red and nodded towards the broadcast room specifically to Chains, who previously built the set and now this platform.
-Before we begin though, as custom I would like to give some backstory for our guest here. This man is Yasen. He here is responsible for the murder of twenty women in the span of five years. Not only that, remember Matt? The person who was wrongly accused for the murder of a random girl? Well...what interesting coincidence! Yasen here is actually responsible for the murder of Yana Karaivanova, almost two years ago now. He is the person who actually killed that poor girl, but instead of going to prison, it was Matt who did! - He said and quenched his fists.
It was still hard for him to talk about that without getting agitated, but this very social experiment was going to help him get through this time and begin his healing.
-But do you guys know what the funny part is? - The police could not find this man for so long, but a bounty hunter did so in the span of a few months! - giggled Red and looked at the comments.
They were all saying he should be properly punished, and that he is scum and what not. The host could not agree more. There had to be some sort of judgment and proper sentence for the man. A court would only postpone his rightful execution giving him whatever amount of years before letting him go or something along those lines. Oh no. Red was not going to leave his business unfinished, not until everyone who scared his life had some sort of hell to pay.
-With that being said, time for the rules of the game! - He said and chuckled behind his mask.
Oh, he was going to enjoy this, he was going to enjoy this quite a lot. Red pointed at a screen with ten lines, as if there was something to be put in them. Letters. On the tenth letter stood an "N". It was a hangman game.
-As you all see, the screen with the missing letters, we are going to play hangman! However, as long as the player guesses wrong, the noose around his neck is going to be pulled up. The noose itself has small blades stuck to it, which makes it even scarier for the player, for he might lose his head, instead of being hanged. It is self-explanatory if you ask me...mainly because our games make their own rules...so to say - said Red and sat on the extended stool.
His smile behind the mask did not fade at all. Once he gave the signal to Scythe, the tape on Yasen's mouth was removed and the game had started. The victim remained stoic however, he did not scream, nor did he speak. He seemed rather...with peace of the fact he was bound to either die or suffer.
-Good evening Mr. Yasen! You are the third participant in the game show "Nothing Personal!" Are you ready to play?! - asked Red and looked at his eyes.
They seemed quiet. Yet he answered.
-Do as you plan...
His throat was sore, making his voice strange and wavy.
-Oooh, we have a tough guy! Remember the last tough guy we had last time?! - asked the host and laughed.
The chat was laughing as well, and still remained eager and awaited, commenting for Red to punish him quickly.
-Well Yasen, as I said, we are playing Hangman. So answer the questions correctly, according to my sense of what is right and what is wrong and you might advance the game! - said the masked man to a non-verbal response.
It seemed Yasen knew he was going to go through some sort of trial. Red continued.
-Well then, with our very none verbal guest, let us try our first question!
Are you a murderer?
Yasen looked at him and scoffed. He seemed bored, and that was about to change soon.
-Yes.
Red smirked.
-Why?
Yasen showed some sort of disturbance as he looked at the host with some look of confusion.
-What?
Red grinned even more.
-I said, "Why?" As in, why are you a murderer?
The noosed man continued to stare at the host and for a second Red though he was not going to answer.
-Because I had to - he answered shortly.
-Elaborate! - insisted the host.
Yasen rolled his eyes, but with that movement his neck touched the rope that has the blades attached to it and lacerated it. It was not deep, but it hurt.
-Because my father forces me! I work for the cartel and my targets are all women that can be used for trafficking! - He answered and showed emotion for the first time.
He entered the game Red wanted to play.
-That is understandable my good sir. Very well, next question...oh and do not forget the board, we add another letter.
_ E _ _ _ _ _ _ _ N.
-We have the letter "E" added now! Let us see if you manage to get it right. Now for the second question! - Red smirked at the chat who was mostly silent, yet the view count had reached sixty thousand.
-Why did you murder the girl Matt was blamed for killing?
The blue cores of the victim stared at the Mask of the Red Death and only managed to see...a blank canvass.
-Because she was a target, but managed to escape. I had to do something about it so I disposed of her on that alleyway... - he said and looked away from the masked host.
Red nodded more to himself actually, but the camera made it seem as if he was nodding to the chat.
-Why did you kill her if she escaped? She might have not said anything to the authorities? - Further questioned the host.
The noosed player continued looking away.
-Because she was kidnapped, and used for different...acts. If she managed to escape, she was definitely going to talk. I had no choice...i have no say in this.
Red stared at the man standing on the elevated platform and felt slight anger.
-Good. We add another letter and move on!
_ E _ _ _ P_ _ _ N.
-Very well, ladies and gentlemen, so far his answers have been all correct! Let us see the next one!
-Why did you not give yourself in to the authorities? - asked Red, throwing in the bait.
Yasen turned his gaze carefully at the host as surprised as he looked.
-I know you are mad, but are you serious!?
-Of course, the question is valid to me! - returned the host and smirked.
Yasen continued staring at him but answered.
-Of course not! If I had, I would have jeopardized my father's line of work!
-Yet you claim you do not have a choice being a serial killer in some ways? You claim you do not enjoy it! Why not give it up? - Further pushed the masked man.
Yasen scoffed again and laughed bitterly.
-You would not understand this line of work and the responsibilities it comes with! My father would not simply just let me rat him to the police! Nor can I just move on...it is not so easy! - exclaimed the man, tired of this twisted parody of a show.
-Yet that gives you the right to completely twist the life of a normal person trying to live his life as modestly as possible...knowing he would be severely punished for it, even though he was innocent! - responded Red and looked at the chat for a second.
People were going nuts speculating about the word of the game and saying he was a piece of shit.
-Life is a bitch... - said Yasen and looked away.
Red giggled and took one small bottle from the table beside him, with unknown yellow substance like cream in it and got closer to the elevated podium Yasen was standing on.
-With that, I can agree...Life is indeed a bitch, but I have something worse. Karma is a bigger one! - He exclaimed and poured some of the cream onto the open wounds of the noosed man.
The burning effect of the chemicals of the cream started working with the bleeding lacerations of the feet. Yasen immediately screamed and started twisting in place. His hands were tied behind his back, and with the movements, he made new cuts to his neck. The burning was awful however, which made it hard for him to stay put.
-Iodine. Applied to open wounds causes very unwanted side effects...like burning! - explained the host and laughed.
Yasen was still trying to suppress his agony, along with not moving. Tears had rolled down his cheeks from the chemical effect of the cream.
-You can guess that this answer was wrong, so you are punished for it. Next question!
If you were the man in question, the one who was locked in prison and abused in it, what would you do after you get out and know who the real killer is?
Yasen did not want to listen to this crazy man, but he did not have a choice. He had to play.
-Nothing!
That answer rather tilted the masked man. He was visually upset with it, so much he clicked with his tongue with disapprovement.
-Nothing you say!? Well that not only makes you a hypocrite, but also a coward for not having the balls to do anything about any situation you are given! You cannot leave the murderous life, yet you cannot also go and take revenge on the rightful person who imprisoned you! You are spineless! – Angrily, said Red and took another small bottle from his prop table.
It was clear, and once he poured it on the iodine-coated wounds that still very much inflicted pain, the open wounds began actually burning. Big bubbles formed from the burning flesh. Yasen went on another screaming fit, because this time, the chemical effect was even worse than before. The cuts on his neck were deep and moving around in the noose was not ideal but he did not have many ways to try to subside the pain.
-That is acid, so enjoy that. But still, your answer was wrong...You are probably the only person to pass this point without suffering other consequences, so be proud of yourself. Onto the next question! – Happily, exclaimed Red and looked at the chat who loved every part of the show.
The donations were enough to buy a house, a brand new one, with the viewership reaching eighty thousand.
-If you had a gun, and every problem on your mind was suffocating you intensely, would you shoot yourself, or would you shoot your problems?! - asked the host and looked at the man in pain.
Yasen was definitely crying from the burning effects the acid was causing. He did not want to answer some stupid questions that did not make sense. Even if they were hypothetical.
-Well!? - insisted Red, looking at the man with sadistic pleasure.
The victim cursed.
-Yes...yes I would! - He said and gasped from the unceasing shudders across his whole body.
The chat on the stream laughed and started blasting the man with insults, while the masked host only nodded silently.
-Well then, there's nothing I could add to that statement...You could have said that maybe you would use the gun to stop the problems, stand up for yourself and change your way...but you choose the easy way out. Coward - returned Red and stood up from his chair.
Yasen did not care what the host though nor did he care if he was right about his choice of answer. It was his true feeling, and he was going to go with it.
-Well usually, I would say something clever and end the episode with the guest suffering, but since I am a good man, and want to give you another chance, I will give you one additional letter, and give you the opportunity to guess the whole word. If you guess it, you are free. If you do not, we will see - said the masked man and grinned.
Yasen did not have any alternatives.
-What is the letter?
Red pointed at the board and on it appeared a new letter.
_ E _ _ _ P_ I _ N.
Now it was all up to Yasen to answer right and he was going to be free. Or so the masked man had promised. He squinted at the board ahead, but it was difficult to see from the sweat entering his eyes. Not to disregard the constant pain he was experiencing from the iodine mixed with acid on his open wounds. It was horrendous but Yasen had to try. The formation of the word reminded him of something the host might have picked in order to mock him, so the noosed man decided to try that.
-The word is Temptation! - He shouted, feeling sure that he was right.
If people could see the grin on Red's face, they would surely know if the prediction was correct.
-Ooh...I am sorry. You are wrong! - He said and pushed a button located on the small prop table beside him.
The mechanism on the platform he was standing on quickly functioned as intended and the hatch underneath his feet opened as well as the noose around his neck ascended, sending the man to his demise. As the body swiftly went flying downwards, the noose still amplified with blades severed his head. It was soo clean it happened on one fell swoop, without Yasen even understanding, since, well...he was dead.
The chat started sending donations, then wow-ed on the very extreme ending to hangman game. Everyone was pleased in the end, well, except the headless body covering the set with blood.
-Well folks that is it for today. Thank you for tuning in again and thank you for the donations! It means a lot. Remember to stay tuned and remember, "Nothing Personal!" only for Entertainment! - said Red as the show closed!
He bowed just as the broadcast ended, and then energetically rose up and looked at the broadcast room where everyone clapped. The microphone inside the room activated and Red was able to hear the voice of Boombox, who was very interested in something.
-Hey, boss…say, what was the word anyway? – asked the Mozart mask wearing operator.
The Red suited fellow smiled.
-Redemption – he answered, as the others looked at him with awe.
Chapter 6 – Three Sinners
-Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the final episode of "Nothing Personal! - welcomed the host wearing his brand new tailored red suit.
It was red-er than usual, with the addition of a red hat, to accompany the whole red everything look. Red himself was beyond happy.
-Me and the team behind this production are beyond excited to show you all the fruits of our labor and show you the best show possible! - continued the masked host.
-With that being said! Today is the most special occasion to say that this episode is extra special! Not only are we closing this chapter, but also we are closing it with a new time record-breaking viewership count of five hundred thousand concurrent viewers! This is amazing and it shows that everyone loved our product, so for the finale, we are going to go out with a bang! - He said and spread his hands.
A few fireworks, small enough for the set banged from behind him, as the neon blue logo stood still. The camera then panned to a very interesting set up of guests. On a circle like rotation, three men were sited and tied up to different apparatuses that were yet to be explained.
-As you can see dear viewers, this here is what we call "Tres Peccatores", or "The Three Sinners"! This being the final episode, we wanted to push above our imaginations and deliver a product that will be remembered for such a long time, and tried to be replicated for even longer! But before we start, I shall like to give you all the backstories to these three fellers and explain how they are here right now! - He said and sat on his chair.
Glancing towards the engagement of the chat, he was thrilled to see how excited they too were. Red smirked and continued.
-You will see that each man has a colored brand on his back, as they are exposed. We shall start with the one marked with orange. Usually, they are all connected, but this feels more right. In short, this man was a felon; he grew with no parents and was a delinquent his whole life. He had a passion for the same sex, so he did engage in that interesting act. Until he was caught and send to prison. Moving on, the man with the purple branding was more or less the same, yet he was in a child's foster home, where he also developed a liking to the same gender, and was caught by some police officers while raping underage children. He was also send to prison. Finally, the man with the blue brand. He was more or less, a friend to them, since he was already in prison, but it is know from the information that I have, that this man was interested in being their sex slave while they all shared the same prison. Can you imagine it? Three addicts to their own gender in one place, convicted for almost the same deed? Now, imagine that the prison they were in, happened to be "Dyavolsko" Penitentiary. Shocking! - Red giggled and proceeded, - Well, imagine which prison mate they met, that we already know? That is right, they met Matt! - He said and smacked the table beside him.
The comments after that statement were very wild. The audience wanted blood as soon as possible, and this time, The Mask of the Red Death was going to deliver.
-Would you call their meeting fate, or was it bound to happen at some point? You cannot known for sure, but the fact is that they, completely and utterly violated Matt, to the point he was afraid to even close his eyes for a few seconds, afraid not to be raped. That is right, these pseudo men raped poor Matt, anally and all kind of ways you could imagine. They beat him when they could, and then fucked him because he wanted to fight back. At one point, with the help of Senior Guard Mr. Matey Zlobaski, they were locked in the dark pit, a place where no one leaves unscathed. That is when they gauged his eye out and then proceeded to penetrate it. Matt died in that prison, because of the actions of these men. Which is why this whole thing comes full circle, if you think about it. First it was Yasen who murderer the girl that Matt was later accused of killing. Then the family that accused him, but it was a shame I did not record that episode, but I will probably release it someway. After them was Victor who did not say anything but proceeded to watch, despite knowing it was wrong. Then Mr. Zlobaski who made the life of that poor boy a living nightmare, and these three, were the demons tormenting him. I am the guardian of that poor kid who died in that place, and swore to deliver rightful punishment to those who killed him. All those who are left, are those three men, Blue, Purple and Orange. Now is their Judgement day! - announced the host, and viciously grinned behind his mask.
The chat was very surprised about that exposition laid upon them. It was a true master plan to take revenge on everyone. Red was playing his game perfectly and he loved it.
-With that aside, ladies and gents, it's time for me to explain how today's torture method will work - he said and stood up from his chair and got closer to the people inside the circle.
The camera panned towards the trio and now it was clear to see what was going on. The three men were all completely naked and tied on chairs. Their heads were also covered in black veils except Blue, to prevent them from seeing anything. Underneath their chairs however, were holes exposing their rears, with knives pointing at them. The knives were attached to machines that simulate the movement of a male's movements during the act of love. With the press of a button, those knives could quickly launch towards their rectums and in turn, rape them. The other unique thing about the situation was that all men had different apparatuses attached to them. Purple had a machine capable of sending however much needed electricity on any shape with his veil soaked with water, to help spread the shock. Orange had his veil smudged with gasoline, and a big automatic lighter capable of sending flames big enough to burn people. Finally, Blue had a big helmet on instead of a veil. It had two sections, with the upper housing five liters of water. If the first section, which ended underneath the chin, were to open, he would drown. Everything was perfectly designed to destroy, humiliate and avenge.
-As you can see, all these attached utilities of torture are going to work according to your will, the audience! That is right! Now I know you have been very generous with the engagement and donations you have showered us with, but I shall let you know, that all that money is nothing but your love. So today, we are going to taste your hate. For the methods you all clearly see, to work, it needs a press of a button. Now, let us say you donate ten dollars. The devices start doing their task! Let us say you donate five dollars. They begin to torment. Let us say you donate one dollar. They completely go ape shit. I think it is very simple! - said the host and looked at the chat that also agreed.
They were saying things like, "let us donate!", "let's show these homos how it's done! “ Red grinned to that sight for he wanted nothing more than those fools up there to die as soon as possible.
-Very well! Well then, let us proceed to the purple branded man! If you donate ten dollars, his knife stimulator is going to go off. If you donate five, it will go all the way in. If you donate one, it will started rotating in a rapid motion. Which shall it be? - asked the host and sat on his stool.
He started gazing upon the screen where the chat were actively communicating. Floods of different messages started flashing.
Anonymous has donated five dollars!
Anonymous has donated one dollar!
Anonymous has donated one dollar!
Anonymous has donated ten dollars!
Some wanted to go slow, some wanted the show to begin as soon as possible, and it was clear as day that the whole audience wished nothing more than the action to go from zero to a hundred real quick, with the donations of one dollar being above four hundred thousand, completely undermining the "votes" of the rest.
-Ape shit we go! - announced the host, and nodded at Scythe, controlling everything remotely.
The knives stimulator underneath the chair of the purple branded man quickly launched the sharp object in his rectum and completely pierced through tissue and everything in that place. There was a special go pro camera attached besides the knife's stand and it was showcasing everything as a side screen. The blood that started pouring out of the anus of the man who was trying to scream as much as possible was dripping as if it was coming out of a sink. His mouth was taped shut so only muffled sounds came out it. Meanwhile the knife was going wild, completely messing up his insides. More donations started appearing on the chat. More one-dollar donations. Red smirked. He nodded at Scythe and the knife device was stopped. He then turned to the camera.
-I think we managed to mess up poor Mr. Purple pretty badly. Hell, he might not be able to go do a number two for quite some time now, but that is beside the point. The question now is, how do we start the electricity shocker? - asked the host and saw a new wave of comments.
New donations and such came flying spreading out and overall filling up the donations count, which had gotten well above the wanted meter. Nevertheless, that was not it. Their money was not important to Red. It was all going to go to the crew anyway so seeing this sort of response from them was more than enough. Not to mention the thirst for blood they painted. The masked man smiled.
-Let's say we do this, on a count of three, everyone comment what should we do next. One, two, three!
The chat listened to the host and quickly started typing. The broadcast operators saw a huge number of accounts just vigorously typing on their keyboards, hoping something happens.
"Purge him!", "Let the electricity flow!", "Fry him up!" - typed the comments.
Red smirked and nodded at Scythe. The man with the skull mask pushed another button, and the device strapped on Purple's back. It immediately unleashed an uncontrollable amount of electricity that spread over on the back and veil soaked with water. The effect was fast. The tied man started convulsing with pain, as his screams muffled and kept behind the tape were not leaving. That only made it worse for him. The smell of burning flesh as the volts of pure chaos enveloped the head of the man was horrendous, but Red managed to keep up with it, since this was only the beginning. He was staring at the man whose movements resembled that of a person trying to escape a prison...which, was exactly what it was. The host loved it. However, just as he did, Purple's shoulders dropped and his whole upper half collapsed on the chair. He was dead. Scythe stopped the device and lifted his thumb up towards his boss. Red looked at the comments, the people in there were going vivid with the mere sight of seeing someone be fried to death by electricity.
-One little piggy is down! Let us go for the next one! - He said and pointed at Mr. Blue.
The chat had not even processed the passing of Purple and now it was down to the other one. They did not complain for the comments immediately started donating.
Anonymous has donated one dollar!
Anonymous has donated one dollar!
Anonymous has donated one dollar!
All the increased number of six hundred thousand people, not even one "voted" something different from one dollar. Red did not even need to do anything. Scythe pushed the button and the motor controlled knife pierced the rear end of Blue and started rotating rapidly. It seemed like he did not like that at all, not one bit. Besides the screaming that only he himself could hear, chunks of excrement fell down as the knife all bloodied and covered in parts of intestines emerged down and subsided. Maybe because he was more loosened back there, who knows? Red surely did not care about that.
-Wasn't that just lovely?! Ah, glorious. However, we still have something more to Mr. Blue. He has a water tank with two bottoms attached to his head. If the first bottom were to collapse, five liters of water would end up entering his mouth and nostrils, drowning him. So what should it be dear friends? - He asked and looked at the chat.
"Let him drown!", "Unleash the water!"; "Punish that trash!" - were among the best responses.
-Let's see if he could find Nemo! - announced the host and looked at Scythe.
He was fast to act. The camera zoomed in on the tank, just as it was about to flood the life of Blue. The first bottom opened and the water flew down. They could not see the face of the man, but judging by his frantic unwavering attempts to get himself free were courageous but pointless. He drowned in less than a minute. Lifeless his body also stopped moving.
-And another piggy is down! One more to go! - He said and looked at Orange.
He was waiting to end this episode with him, so he left that part for last. But something in his mind went to a different place, as he quickly turned to the camera again.
-You know what, ladies and gents?! Im feeling very generous today. I will not ask you for any sort of donations or votes. I shall only ask you for patience and the will to stay for the next act…which shall be the end of our show, and overall series! – said the host and looked at the chat.
Despite that though, the donations did not cease, nor did the excitement subside. The viewership had risen to seven hundred thousand, and all eyes were looking at the host with eager speculative tension.
-LIGHT HIM UP AND DRILL IT IN! – yelled Red and looked directly at Scythe.
The skull-masked operator was not expecting that, but did not hesitate one bit. With the press of a button, he started both the knife machine, and the lighter attached to his back. The knife, which was strangely extended for that man entered him, piercing his anus and obliterating everything, for the rotating of the sharp blade inside him, destroyed everything. Mr. Orange though, did not even get the chance to react to that, for the lighter behind him, ignited and spewed flames tongues that enveloped and fired up the gasoline-coated veil. It immediately caught on fire and started burning. No dictionary was able to describe the way the man screamed with all his lungs could. A scream so guttural and filled to the brim with agony and gut wrenching pain, that the faintest of hearts would probably die just watching. The red flames, with orange like outlines perfectly illuminated the set. The man in red stood there, with eyes fixated on those flames, stuck at them and dazed by the screams of the person that killed so many different people. Now he was the one that was murdered. By the time, the flames subsided and died out, Mr. Orange was dead…leaving no one left to punish, no one left to put on trial. That feeling of not having anyone else to punish left something leaving in the mind of the host, but it was not time for that now. He turned to face the camera that panned to him directly.
-Well, this was the end. I would like to thank you all…thank you for the time you all spent watching the show, engaging, replying, and donating to our work. It was a joy having to host this show. It was a pleasure to have to explain to you all the wrongs of those people that are no longer here. So please, stay the way you are…always point out the wrongs of others and if possible, confront them! But according to that, do also remember to keep it out of your mind. Remember to stay safe…and know, this “Nothing Personal!” only for entertainment – said the host for one last time and bowed, as the broadcast ended.
As the camera stopped streaming the show, everyone in the other room in the house stood up and applauded the man, sitting directly in the center beside the three bodies. Martin smiled and finally took off the mask he so eagerly wanted to remove each time they had a show. He was free. He just had one last thing he needed to do, but that had to wait. The man dressed in red left the set and went inside the room where everyone greeted him like a god. For all the lowlifes and people that lived in the dark side of the web…the Mask of the Red Death…was just that, Death.
Chapter 7 –Staring at the Barrel
"Those are all the events that happened during the show. The victims captured and tormented were those that harmed me the most, creating big and hideous marks and scars over my body. However, I avenged myself; I managed to bring justice to the family that framed me, not knowing I was innocent. I managed to redeem myself as I punished Victor, the one who stood by and did not do anything. I also managed to inflict pain onto the senior guard who always barraged me with Insults and undeserved sentences. The sweet part of this story is that I actually managed to find the actual killer of the girl I was accused of murdering and killed him, for putting me in that prison, although not knowing. And finally, those who gave me the biggest scar, died in the grandest way. Being violated the same way they violated and bullied me. In the end of the day however, I feel like I have not accomplished my main goal, that being inner peace. Take revenge aside, the fact I cannot sleep without thinking of all the brutal deeds I had to do in order to try and feel something different than pain, makes me exactly like the people I accused of being bad. Make me nothing but a two-faced man, which if looked the way it should be looked at, it is correct. I do regret the bloodshed that had to be spilled in order for me to complete my goal, I do regret it had to end the way it ended, but that was necessary, both for me and for my sanity. Now as mere days have passed since the final broadcast of the show, I cannot express how much terror I feel each night. Seeing the faces of those who perished in my experiment. Hearing their cries of agony and seeing their blood literally boil in front of me. Those faces and those voices never go away. They linger, and just...echo in your mind. Telling you that you are at wrong as well. Wrong for condemning those people just because I felt the need to destroy those who harmed me. Now these sins have caught on to me. I can no longer live, thinking about them. My purpose to avenge the young boy who "died" in that prison has passed on. Now Red has to be punished for what he has done. Punished by the same boy who he tried to absolve of any crime and stain left by those who placed him there. But before Martin finishes the final culprit, Red has one last thing to say. To those who experience humiliation and constant barrages of insults, stand your ground and defend yourself. To those afraid of acting, act, and prove your way in the world. With these broadcasts that allowed us to show you all how we act, we tried to intrigue and light the interest in your lives, so that those struggling to survive have some hope. To finish. Fight, fight and always fight. This is my final message! With that, with all the released episodes, you all now know the story of the red dressed man with the mask!" - wrote Martin and placed the pen by the small black notebook.
He was not wearing a suit this time, for he was finished with Red. He just needed to do one last thing before ending the final person involved in everything. Martin stood up from the chair in the one bedroom apartment, left to him from his old grandmother. It had one bed, a gas stove, a table and two chairs. Next to the refrigerator that did not work, stood one small heater that also did not function. The man passed the table, which had been collecting dust for a year and more now. The cockroaches got scared he might accidentally kill them, and quickly spread away. He did not mind them, as they rather acted as his roommates. Martin entered the bathroom, which was right by the entrance door and switched on the light. It did not work but he imagined it did. Thankfully, it was still sunny outside, which helped illuminate the two in one relief room. It was small and cramped, with the toilet taking most of the room, and the shower the other part. Without wasting time, Martin pulled down the seat of the toilet and sat on it. Right In front of him was the mirror, cracked, dirty and older than the man looking at it. His eye glanced at his reflection and for the first time since forever, he shivered by his own face. Not because he had not seen it for such a long time, but quite the opposite. He did not want to see it. What was there to see anyway? The broken teeth, with some missing from his crooked smile? Perhaps the torn part of his ear was appealing to some people? Or the deep scars left on his cheeks? Maybe the completely missing eye, the voidness of the socket that did not carry anything than messed up flesh was enough for a person to start a conversation with him? His hair at least remained nearly the same. It was a tad too long, so he used the black strands to cover the side of his face, for he did not want to look at it. As he did though, he removed it and stared at his missing eye. Memories started gushing out, but he quickly removed them. There was no need for him to remember those painful days. He did so anyway, all the time, in his sleep or when he was awake. Instead, he looked at the revolver, sitting silently on the side of the sink below the mirror. The final gift given to him by Scythe.
-So, what are we going to do now? – asked the skull masked man as Red got inside the broadcasting room.
Martin smiled looked at the other masked men that helped him through the journey of revenge, but made sure not to show his teeth and then gathered everyone as if he was going to give them a pep talk before a soccer match.
-All the money we made with the stream goes to each and every one of you. You deserve it more than me, for I did nothing. The show is you all, and for that, I thank you for helping me!
Boombox and Chains were speechless, while Hammer extended his hand. They all were loyal and hearing and understanding the depth of the plan, and finally seeing the man unmasked after all this time…it was surreal to some extent. Martin met with Hammer after he was released from prison, and told him his story. The man offered him help, in the form of those men standing in the room at the moment, and Red, back then wearing just a cloth mask only covering his side where the missing eye was, agreed. The rest was history. He got so into character he started dressing up nicely, and made himself a full-face mask. No one actually knew who he was until this moment.
-As I said before, I want you all to fight for what you believe is right! Take all the money, split it up, and go your separate ways, it is your call to do what you feel is right to do – said the man and everyone shook his hand, as he then shook the one extended by Hammer.
Martin could not help but shed a tear, for he was going to miss them, but he did not have the time to mourn them. He looked at Scythe and told him he has one last job for him. He nodded and went with him, leaving the rest to convert the donations and split them up accordingly.
And they did. Everyone got their fair share, and the group was officially over. Martin smiled, thinking of those final moments, and took the revolver. He examined it carefully and turned the barrel to his one eye. Staring down in it, he could smell the incoming death. He checked the cylinder, and was pleased to see the instructions given to Scythe were executed perfectly. Five bullets and one empty spot in the chambers. He spun the cylinder and did not look where it stopped. Now was the final game left for them to play. Both Red and Martin, for they both had wrongs, and both of them had nightmares they wanted to stop. For their mind, this was the best way to end their lives, for they ended in that prison. Martin’s life ended when he entered the prison, and Red’s began after they left. Now it was time for both of them to die for real this time. Logically thinking, there was nothing more for them to do. There was no way for them to integrate into society, no way for them to feed themselves. There was nothing left, than the nightmares, the horrors and the dreadful memories harassing them each and every minute left in this world. The final game.
-This one is for Martin! – declared the man with the missing eye and spun the cylinder again.
Once it stopped, he pointed the barrel to his temple and cocked the hammer down and without hesitating pulled on the trigger. The hammer then released back and smashed into the chamber…but nothing happened. Martin heard the empty sound of a shot without a bullet.
-This makes sense…Martin is already dead! – He said and rotated the cylinder again and pushed the barrel to his head.
Cocking the hammer back, he again pushed the trigger. Again, the hammer struck the chamber…and the walls painted red.
Epilogue
[One Day Later]
-So, this is how it all happened?! – said the detective and closed the black notebook on the table.
He looked around, but there was not anything of interest anymore, except for the body of the murderer he had been chasing for some time. It all began when the authorities found a small house in the middle of nowhere, with the bodies of three people. They were a family, but along with that, came a clue as to where another body would be found. He and his colleagues rushed there as soon as possible, but when they found the corpse of the black male, it was too late. They did not lose hope though, since there was another clue, leading to another place. There, they found the body of an elderly fellow. The detectives started to lose hope, since they were being played. It was surely a chasing game, for they did not have any other clues as to what was happening. But when the clue of the last victim led to another, and that clue led to one final clue, the detective had some solid…or well, different instructions. They found a note on the site where the three bodies of different men were found. The note led to this apartment, and coincidently, just yesterday a call was reported, saying that there has been a gunshot in this area. He was going to call in for some medics and forensics, but he wanted to check out the scene himself first. When the detective arrived at the premises, he was greeted with the body of Martin Velichkov, ex inmate of the “Dyavolsko” Penitentiary. The detective knew him, for he was the leading man in his case, where he murdered a girl. It was later discovered he was not the one who did it, but that instigated a murderous thirst for revenge. Every detail of how the victims of the revenge were captured and murdered, had been noted down in the notebook. Even his own last will and the people involved with everything, their names too. It was clear. He had gone from prey to beast, and then had committed suicide because his mind could not cope. The detective made sure not to step on any of the spilled brain matter, as his coat and shoes did not make any contact. The man looked down and cringed at the scene. He was not keen on seeing stuff like that, but it was a part of his job. As he examined the body though, he managed to spot something like a paper, poking out of the pocket of his hoodie, all covered in blood and brains. Carefully putting on gloves, he used tweezers and managed to take it. It was a crumbled up piece of paper with a few words on it. It said:
“Good job of finally managing to find me Detective Slaveikov! You really are one of the most incompetent workers out there, but that is okay. What is not okay is the fact that you were directly responsible for me ending up in prison! You did not do your job correctly, and that got me in there, so thank you! But, as you can see, I did good once I got out of there! You followed the trail of blood we left behind, only to find me, the leader. However, as you can see, I am already gone from this world, and you do not have anyone to blame for the murders I committed on camera and pained on the notebook as my testimony. You will only have your thumb in your mouth! Moreover, even if you think, you have his note to prove it all; it will vanish, for it is written with ink that will disappear in less than two hours. Not to mention, my colleague you saw when entering the building, the one with the hoodie with a skull on it, will come and pick up my notebook, along with everything in it. They know every move you will make detective, so you have one chance to leave this place, and stop investigating them. But before you do, look yourself in that broken mirror, and see the failure you are!”
Detective Slaveikov had a huge mark of sweat, heating up his back as he read those lines. How did he know he was going to come here? It could have been another person to investigate the scene! Even the person he saw with the hoodie as described on the note, he saw him but did not think much of it. It was clear Martin wanted to stop the police from investigating further on them and everything, but that was not how things worked. He reached for his radio-station, but he had forgotten it in his car. He cursed and finally looked at the mirror, unintentionally. He saw the broken surface of the glass, and the mangled reflection. Just as he was about to look away, he saw something. It was poking out from behind the frame, kind of like a picture. Without thinking, scared and trying to think of something, he moved the frame, and the mechanism clicked. Before he even comprehended what happened, the gun planted behind it, shot, and painted the walls red, once again.
…
[Ten minutes later]
When Scythe walked in, he did not waste any of the seconds he had before someone reported the gunshot. It had a silencer, but it still made noise, so he had to hurry. Grabbing the black notebook, he went inside the bathroom and at first gasped at the sight of his previous boss dead, but then looked at the body of the detective, also dead and laying lifelessly on the ground. He smirked and quickly covered them in gasoline. His final-final task was to take care of them, and make it look natural. As he poured all of the contents from the tub, he walked to the stove and switched it on, the only thing in the apartment that still worked. It started spreading gas, which was going to help with the explosion that was going to follow. Scythe went back to the bathroom, and took one final glance at his boss and at his enemy.
-Everything was personal! – He murmured and threw the ignited lighter at the bodies.
The flames quickly started and the man left the apartment. He was going to take the car of the detective and drive it somewhere where it could be totaled without questions. Everything was going to be settled. Scythe got inside the vehicle, started it and drove off, to the sound of an explosion soon to follow. He only managed to smile, having fulfilled his final task given to him by Red as they walked off that day of the final episode. Hell, he could not take any credit off the man. He proved that even in death, he still was the one who pulled the strings in the end. He was still, the whole part of this twisted masquerade.
THE END!
Credits:
As previously noted, this novel came to be with the very first chapter over nearly two years ago with the final story from Vol.10 of Thursday Nightmares! Ever since then, I have developed it into more of a thriller, gore-fest with a plot attached to it, making sense of everything. I hope you enjoyed it, and I am looking forward for the reactions. As for the next novel, it will be a while until we see it, the next novel being [Consciousness], which is set to arrive at some point in 2023!.
But before that we will see Volume 9 of Cursed Tales titled “The Keeper of the Lost Souls”, so stay tuned for that!
This novel has been created with the help of:
Publishing House Wing® 2022
Author- Nedyalko ‘Black Wing’ Delchev.
Editor- Nedyalko Delchev.
® © 2022.
Nothin’ Personal only Business!
Ned Black 2022®