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***
I watch as my victim walks out of the airport. The concierge places his suitcase in the trunk I have opened. I pull my chauffeur hat lower over my head concealing most of my face.
Jason Averil walks up to me, and I open the back door for him. He doesn’t glance in my direction as he says, “I don’t want to talk. Just get me home.”
He climbs in the car, and I shut the door for him.
Keeping my head down, I walk around the front of the vehicle and climb into the driver’s seat. As soon as the concierge is done with the bags, I pull away from the airport curb and head to my destination.
Halfway through the ride, I glance in the rearview mirror at my victim as I make my way down the highway.
In my thirty-two years on this earth, I’ve come to realize the world is made up of predators and prey. When you are at the top of the food chain, you don’t have fears. It’s why the lion will take naps during the day under the shade and the Zebra will sleep standing. The rich and powerful of the world are like the lion. Their money and status have granted them a security they think is untouchable. It’s the reason my passenger hasn’t looked up from his phone to realize we are not going in the direction of his home.
“There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked.” My mother says in my head. “For the love of money is at the root of all kinds of evil. Kill the sinner.”
In this, she and I agreed. He will die a slow and horrible death tonight.
I pull the black Lincoln Town car with tinted windows into the lower garage at the back of my apartment building. It isn’t until I turn off the ignition that Jason thinks to look up from his phone.
“Wait,” he says finally realizing we aren’t at his house. “Where are we.”
I don’t answer, instead I climb out of the car, walk over to the wall and push the button to lower the garage door. I don’t worry about him calling for help, he won’t be able to get a signal. I go around to his side of the vehicle and pull his door open. He looks at me for the first time.
“You’re not Sam. Who are you?” The right amount of panic has made its way into his voice.
I still don’t answer, instead I reach into the back seat and pull him out. He attempts to fight me, but I easily overpower him, hauling him out of the back seat. I shove his body up against the side of the car.
“Listen,” he says, holding his hands out in front of him to hold me off. “Is it money you want? I can pay you whatever you want.”
I point to the door to my underground work room. It’s a metal door with a combination lock on it. It isn’t anything fancy, but the way Jason’s eyes enlarge when he looks at it you would think it was covered in blood or something.
“Alright, you don’t want money,” he shakes his head. The rich and powerful believe that money can get them out of anything. I guess in their world it does. Unfortunately for him, I’m not a part of his world.
“Whatever you want I can get it. My uncle is a powerful man. There isn’t anything he can’t get.”
“He tempts you with his wicked wealth. He is an abomination.” Mother claims in my head.
“Walk,” I demand as I grab him by the neck and lift him off the ground before shoving him in the direction of the door. He falls to the ground, sliding across the concrete floor before quickly getting back to his feet.
“Please, don’t do this.”
His pleas fall on deaf ears as I escort him to the metal door. After punching the code in, I push him forward. The lights come up as soon as we enter the room.
Jason flinches from the bright lights but once his eyes adjust, he gasps as he looks around the room.
The walls are a dingy beige. No matter how many times I clean them they will not go back to their original white color. Thick metal chains are embedded into the concrete at different levels along the walls from the floor to the ceiling. Large cabinets run along one wall. A fully functioning work bench is in the corner of the room.
Peg boards run along two of the free walls with every tool you can imagine. I have more supplies than your local Home Depot. A dental chair with attached cuffs is in the middle of the floor along with two large drums against the far-right wall. And at the furthest part of the room is my favorite addition, an incinerator that reaches temperatures of nearly 3,000 degrees. It can turn a human body to ash within two hours.
“Sit in the chair,” I demand.
Jason looks at me as if I’ve just asked him to lick the seat of a toilet.
“I will not. Look, I don’t know who you are, but you clearly have no idea who I am or the people I’m associated with…”
“You are Jason Averil. Son of Glenda and James Averil. Glenda is the granddaughter of Harold Smith, former CEO of one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world.”
Moving away from the door I go to my cabinet and start pulling out the tools I’ll be using. Starting with a handheld torch. I place it on the rolling cart beside the work bench.
