IV Redemption #4
“You had nothing to do with him becoming the wonderful young man that he is,” Mitchell said.
The room had lighting equipment and computers and was above the auditorium, looking down on a small number of people. Most of the audience hadn’t arrived for the play yet.
The killer in the bear mask appeared at the entrance to the room with the lighting.
Everyone turned immediately.
Westfield felt fear, real fear.
The man in the mask tilted his head a bit and held his weapon in his hand. Madelyne stood there with her knife in her hands, ready to try to defend herself, but knowing that he was stronger and faster than her because he used steroids and was bigger.
Peck didn’t understand the danger.
“Who the fuck?” Peck asked. He walked up to the killer and tried to grab the short sword but was stabbed in the chest. Peck wavered for a second and then fell to the ground. “That fucker stabbed me,” he said. He fell to the ground, clutching his heart. “He broke me.”
Peck collapsed, rage and disbelief all over his face.
The killer had blood all over his wakizashi. Peck fell to the ground. Madelyne screamed. Several people in the adjoining auditorium ran away and called the police. Then the killer looked at her, pissed.
Madelyne looked around the room, looking for escape routes. She saw none.
“Hey,” Madelyne said. “Want to talk?”
The killer shook his head from side to side. No.
“Okay,” Madelyne said. “We’ll just get stabbed then.”
“Overwhelm him as a group,” Westfield said. “On three.”
“Three,” Madelyne said.
Madelyne, Dr. Westfield, Westfield, and Mitchell charged at the Bear Mask Killer and tried to disarm him as a group.
The killer stabbed Dr. Westfield in the head, in the top of the head, slamming the wakizashi into his skull and fracturing it. Dr. Westfield looked stunned to be dying at the hands of a serial killer. He collapsed, not moving aside from some little twitching.
They backed away into the room with the lighting, standing there, looking at the killer.
“What now?” Madelyne asked. “That went poorly.”
“My abusive family is dead,” Westfield said. “They were abusive, but killing them is too far. Murder is too far. They tried to be innocent. I’m upset.”
The Bear Mask Killer pointed his wakizashi at Westfield.
Ai walked into the room, pointing a gun at the Bear Mask Killer.
He didn’t move except to look at her.
“Gotcha,” Ai said. “You are under arrest.”
The Bear Mask Killer didn’t move.
“Drop the sword,” Ai said.
He didn’t drop the sword.
“Shoot him,” Madelyne said.
Ai stood there.
“Shoot him,” Madelyne said.
Ai shot him.
He had a huge hole in his head. He collapsed onto the ground. He fell, dead, with his brains splattered all over the place. Westfield took off the mask.
“Trevor Caunfren,” Madelyne said. “He gave us a fifty-dollar superchat. We got him. Nothing more to worry about.” “Solved,” Westfield said.
Police and ambulance people started to charge into the room to clean up the scene and process everything.
“Can we put on the play?” Ai asked. “I don’t want them to cancel us.”
It took an hour of processing evidence, but they agreed to put on the play an hour later. They spent time making certain to prove everything and then let them do the play.
Waylon stood in the bathroom, wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt. He had his Bear Mask costume in his backpack and his wakizashi in his locker nearby.
He couldn’t believe it.
Trevor, his best friend and associate, was dead.
Trevor had died for trying to stand up to Madelyne and Ai. He had pissed off Ai. Waylon had to kill Ai.
He felt a brief amount of remorse about killing people. He now knew what it felt like to have a loved one murdered, and he didn’t like it at all.
Still - he was angry. He felt furiously mad at Ai.
He wanted to kill her very much, very much soon.
This was unacceptable.
His friend had been killed.
Ai’s programming hadn’t worked.
She had rebelled because he had murdered Caitlyn. Ai had freaked out.
Did Ai think it was over?
Westfield was cheering and sobbing in the auditorium. They were celebrating. They were celebrating his friend’s death. They were celebrating because they had defeated his friend.
Waylon had a chance then. He knew it.
He could walk away.
He could just leave.
They would consider the case closed and consider him cleared.
They would blame his friend Trevor for everything.
He would have a life.
He would go to community college and become a computer programmer.
He considered it. He saw that life before him.
It tempted him, tempted him a lot. He’d marry a fat, ugly woman whom he would love a lot.
He would die trying to please her and two kids, kids who would be distant and sullen and barely understand that their father used to be evil. He saw that life and rejected it.
No.
Fuck that.
He needed revenge.
He looked in the mirror.
Ai needed to die.
He started to evaluate where she was.
She was smiling and watching the play - which had just started. She was in the first row watching. He had to wait for the play to end. He had to give them the play. He couldn’t kill her during her big play. There were too many people there. It wouldn’t work.
He had Trevor do all the talking to Ai. He hadn’t met her himself.
She didn’t know about Waylon, not directly.
He had controlled everything from the shadows, dominating and controlling Alexis and Ai and Trevor and Carson.
He controlled everything with his laptop and his cameras and his hacks into everyone’s phones and his knowledge of everyone’s texts, posts, and phone calls that they did to each other.
He planned revenge, watching the play with his backpack in his hand, with his gear in it. He considered his options and thought about the consequences of each plan. He smiled. This was going to be fun.