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Chapter 10: Murder Gone Viral by Stephen Simpson


During the night, Sarah wonders, “What happened to Max? I have not heard his voice all day.”

Samantha tells her what Gareth told her when she was upstairs, that they are part of an online reality show and whoever gets the lowest number of votes are then killed. 

For the rest of the night, they do not speak. The consistent sound of Emily crying lulls them, and one by one they fall asleep reluctantly.


Richard and Gareth wake up long after lunch, after a night of heavy drinking. 

The first thing they do is rush to the computer and after Gareth enters the elaborate password, he links to the internet and then they open The Death Factor page. 

Richard staggers as he notices the astonishing amount of two hundred and seventy-five thousand views.

Gareth exclaims excitedly, “I told you it is a brilliant idea.”

Viewers have started to take it seriously and after they sift through the nasty comments and the exclamations of outrage, they start counting the votes. The list feels endless, but two hours later the votes are in. Scott has been voted out.

Briefly Richard feels sorry for the kid, but he asks, “Do we do it the same way as yesterday?”

Gareth contemplates for a moment. “No, let’s lynch him instead. We have to keep it fresh.”

Richard goes down to the basement and then he drags a kicking and screaming Scott up the stairs behind him.

He says without any sympathy, “The viewers obviously do not approve of you selling drugs, even if you do it only to support your sister and because you were unlucky enough to have worthless parents.”

He drags Scott out the door into the open clearing and then he forces the dog training choke chain around his neck. He adds a long rope to the end of the choke chain and then he flings it across a high branch. Scott starts to kick and scream loudly. Richard pulls the kid up by his neck while Gareth films his kicking legs. When Scott’s legs start to spasm, he moves the camera up to his face. Soon dullness replaces the panic in his eyes. 

Richard lets go of the rope and Scott drops down to the ground with a bone crushing sound. Richard drags the body into the dense undergrowth among the trees and leaves the body there—just far enough so it cannot be seen from the cabin, and it is hidden among the lush foliage.

Richard and Gareth walk back to the cottage as if nothing untoward has happened, just part of a job, a means to fulfil a goal.

When they walk into the cabin, Gareth says, “Before we start today, let’s eat something. I am starving this morning.”

“I wish we could order a pizza.”

“I brought some frozen pizza.” Gareth walks to the freezer and then he pulls out two large boxes. He turns the knob on the stove to the required heat setting and then he walks to the bathroom. He has a quick shower and then when he returns to the kitchen, the little pilot light has gone off indicating the oven has reached the correct temperature.

He takes the two pizzas from the boxes and then he slides them onto the rack. He calls down the short passage, “Hey, Richard. Where are you?”

“Here.” The voice comes from the little room at the back. “Call me when you are ready. My head is killing me.”

Gareth laughs as he walks to the computer to upload the video of Scott and to start editing it, while he waits for the pizza to cook.

Ten minutes later, he walks over to the stove and pulls open the door. The heat slams him in the face and as he pulls the pizza from the rack, his knuckle brushes against the rack. He pulls his finger back fast and then pops his finger in his mouth hurriedly. He grumbles in pain. 

With his other hand, he pulls the pizza from the oven and puts them down onto the counter. He takes his finger from his mouth and examines his finger closely. A white crust has formed on the burn, and unhappily he breaks a few slices from the pizza awkwardly with his one hand and only four fingers of his other injured hand.

He calls Richard loudly as he walks with the plate of pizza and a beer to the couch. After he sits down, he holds his burning finger against the cold beer can and he takes a bite of the pizza in his other hand.

Bleary eyed, Richard joins him on the couch with his own beer and plate of pizza.

They eat in silence until Richard asks, “What happened to your finger?”

“I burned the bloody thing pulling the pizza from the oven.”

Richard shakes his head, amused. “You have always been a little clumsy.”

Gareth mumbles displeased, “So my dad tells me every time I see him.”

They finish eating and leave the empty cans and plates on the coffee table.

Richard says as he gets up from the couch, “I’ll bring Emily up first.”

In the meantime, Gareth walks to the computer. He sits down and puts his painful finger in his mouth again.

Emily screams at the top of her lungs as Richard carries her up the stairs. Her body is rigid as he holds her body horizontally in his arm.

He puts her down on the chair, but Emily jumps up immediately, trying to run away from Richard. Exasperated Richard lunges at her. He asks her in a booming voice, “Do you want to see your mother again?”

Immediately she stops screaming and she looks up at him hopefully.

He holds her up in front of him, so she is face to face with him. He looks at her and as he smiles kindly, he says, “If you help me and answer the questions, we are going to ask you, I promise you will see your mom again.”

She looks across the room at Gareth, as she says accusingly, “You are Maria’s friend, and she really likes you.”

Gareth ignores her as he edits the video, trying to get the images of Scott just right.

Richard asks her, “So are you going to be good, or must I tie you to the chair?”

She nods her head. “I’ll sit still.”

He puts her down on the chair, but he stays close by, just out of camera range.

Gareth focuses the webcam on her. She looks heartbreakingly sad with her big scared eyes. Her blonde pigtails hang on the sides of her cheeks.

He asks her kindly, “So Emily, tell us what your biggest wish is.”

Emily wails, “I want my Mommy and I am scared of the dark.” She looks pleadingly at Gareth across the room. “Please tell this man to leave the lights on.”

Gareth smiles as he looks up at Richard standing next to Emily. “Leave the lights on from now on. I think that is all we will need from Emily. You can bring Sarah up now.”

“So, will you take me to see my Mommy now?”

Garth smiles sweetly at her. “Tomorrow. I promise.”

She walks obediently next to Richard to the basement door. When they reach the door, she says innocently, “You know I am okay now and if you are taking me home tomorrow, you don’t have to lock me up anymore. I’ll be really, really good.”

Gareth says from where he is still sitting in front of his computer, “Just for tonight, otherwise the other kids will be jealous.”

She nods her head in understanding and walks down the stairs in front of Richard.

After Richard secures Emily to the metal ring, she reminds him, “Remember, you have to leave the lights on.”

Richard ignores her as he walks to Sarah’s cubicle. He grimaces when he touches her wrist by accident. The dried blood, where she has tried to pull her hand through the handcuff turns into a rust coloured powder and clings to his sweaty hands.

He unlocks the other end of the handcuffs which are attached to the metal chain, which is connected to the metal ring in the floor. He pushes her roughly onto her stomach and then he cuffs her hands behind her back. He is tired, he has a headache, and he is not in the mood to fight her. The day he took them outside to clean them from their own filth, she tried to make a run for it, and he had to dive at her legs. His elbow is still a little tender to the touch. 

He pushes her up the stairs ahead of him and she resists him with every step. Frustrated, he slaps her against the back of her head. “Walk, before I beat you to a pulp.”

Every time he shoves her in the back, she pushes back. He grabs onto the handcuffs, and he yanks down hard. 

Sarah gives a long scream of pain as the metal digs through the thick scab which has formed around her raw wrist.

Eventually, Richard gets her upstairs and onto the chair. He remains standing close to her with a baseball bat in his hand. He stands in the correct stance, and he says warningly, “I swear if you get off that chair, I will hit your head clean off your shoulders and hit a home-run with your ugly face.”

Sarah looks up at him mockingly.

Gareth has regretted the impulsive moment when he decided to grab Sarah from the street rather than to go with the girl who was initially their choice.

He focuses the webcam on her. To Richard, he says, “Turn her sideways, so the bruise on her eye is hidden from the camera.”

Richard uses one hand to turn her with the chair. The other arm holds the bat up menacingly.

“I only need a photo from you, feisty Sarah. We already have your interview on tape.” He laughs cruelly. “You know, of course, you are going up against sweet little Emily, and with those huge sad eyes, I doubt you will get any votes. Hope you enjoy your last hours—any requests?”

Sarah stares at him with a murderous glare in her eyes. Her mind starts to work faster. She remembers every detail of the area outside the cabin. If they are going to kill her, surely, they will do it outside. She scans the room quickly and she cannot see any evidence of a struggle, so they did not kill Max or Scott in here. She has thought through every detail of an escape plan during their next bathroom visit, but every idea had too many pitfalls.

Richard takes her down and he pushes her down the last two steps. Sarah stumbles and with both her arms tied behind her back, she cannot manage to get her balance. She twists her body and slams with her shoulder onto the floor. She closes her eyes tightly and she groans loudly, as the pain shoots through her.

Richard picks her one leg up from the floor and then he drags her across the concrete to her cubicle. While he locks her securely to the metal ring again, he mumbles close to her ear. “I hate girls like you. You toy with boys until they fall in love with you and then you move on to your next victim.”

Sarah lifts her free hand to slap him, but he grabs her wrist and squeezes until he feels the bones move slightly in his grip. He lets go and she starts to rub her wrist while she looks up at him hatefully.

He walks away laughing wildly and then he switches off the light.

Emily screams in alarm. “You promised.”

“I lied,” he replies mockingly.

When he gets back upstairs, Gareth looks at him surprised. “That was quick. Did you feed them?”

“I am not in the mood tonight. I am going to lie down again, call me when you are done with the video.”

Gareth calls after him, “Have another beer, it will take your headache away.”

“Maybe later.”

Gareth works on the video, and he takes his time, because Richard is not in the room, glancing at him anxiously every five minutes.

After midnight, it is perfect, and he gets up from the chair to stretch his back. He walks down the short passage to call Richard.

Richard is fast asleep; his mouth is hanging open slightly and a rhythmic soft gurgling snore escapes his mouth.

He nudges Richard against the shoulder, and he jerks upright. His arms shoot up in a defensive action.

Gareth laughs hysterically. “That’s funny. Is the dead chasing you in your sleep?”

Bewildered Richard realizes where he is and he asks sleepily, “I suppose you finished the video.”

“I have, come and look at it before I upload it.”

Richard watches as the same ominous piano music starts playing on a black screen, and then with an explosion of sound, a yellowish skull exPLODES out of the black background. The words: The Death Factor shimmer above and below the skull. 

The hollow voice announces excitedly, “Six days, six contestants and only one survivor. Who will win the ultimate price, their life? Who will be your favourite? Is it the heartbreakingly sad eight-year-old girl with the blonde pigtails?” 

Ten seconds of the edited video show Emily asking repeatedly in her soft, lilting voice for her Mommy, and if she could please go home. 

The voice continues, “Or will it be the pretty brown-haired teen homecoming queen?” Ten seconds play across the screen as Sarah smiles at the camera shyly where she stands on a suburban sidewalk and she tells the camera excitedly how she wouldn’t say she is the perfect teen, but she likes to think she is close to being perfect. The video fades to the photo Gareth took of her earlier today. Her solemn face looks sad, as her dark eyes glare at the lens defiantly. The bruise on the side of her face looks like a shadow. The grating voice continues cheerfully, “Your votes saved Samantha last night.” A picture of Samantha flashes across the screen. “Sadly, Scott was voted out and he paid dearly with his life.” The camera is focused on two feet in dirty worn trainers. As the legs start to spasm violently, the camera pans up to the boy’s face and focus on his eyes as the life is drained from them. The screen again fills with red, blood-like graphics oozing from the top to the bottom and the words—Voted Out—flashes across the screen until the video fades to black. The voice implores, “Your vote is important, so if you want your favourite to be the sole survivor you must vote.”

Curiously Richard remains standing behind Gareth as he connects to the internet. When he opens The Death Factor page, they both catch their breath simultaneously. The view count is one million four hundred and fifty-four thousand.

Richard exclaims, “Yes!” Never in his wildest imagination could he ever have imagined it would reach above one million views.


Continue reading Chapter 11/12






Copyright © Stephen Simpson. All Rights Reserved. 
All work created and posted on this blog is the intellectual property of Stephen Simpson.

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