Chapter two: No Answer
Colby hated his job. An outcast, angry at the world thinking everyone had done him wrong. The truth was that he was a bitter man. Young, and in his early 20's, was an all around decent repair man. The business he worked for was open 24 hours a day, he hates his job, but knows he must accept it and lie low before his next con.
Colby was a player, and had just been through a long con, made a 250,000 dollar haul plus a Mansion which valued at over 1.5 million. He struck gold, this was no ordinary street con, this was the "Hugh Hefner" of all cons. He spent two years trying to make this one work. He'd done his research on this woman, stock broker for some pretty banging companies. Loneliness and a loss of a husband boiled her desire to find a new man for herself and her two year old son.
Eager to get started and maybe hustle a few thousand out of this woman, he approached. What happened was unexpected. A happy marriage was what she dreamed of, and she had one, at least for a little while. After a year Colby found that some sedatives, a cup of bleach and the rough side of a sponge did wonders. Giving the child sedatives was a necessary risk he needed to take to stay undercover. He rubbed bleach on the sponge rubbing circles into the boys shoulders and arms, "Under clothed skin." he thought, "it needs to look believable." He had created the perfect bomb. All he needed was a detonator to light that fuse. He bought off a few of his scumbag street peddlers and drug dealers to send some anonymous tips about a certain someone, who was often "seen" taking heavy medication and abusing her child in public.
Colby planned this out. She was a sober living person, at least she thought she was. Colby made sure she got her daily dose of Percocet and Vicodin through meals, and drinks. A very subtle dose, to lessen the chance of suspicion, and to raise the belief of the case he was building. The drug test came back positive, the judge ruled drug and child abuse. Eventually, sent into prison, with her rights to her son evoked and put in the hands of her newlywed. With a no priors on his record Colby gained custody. Now, all Colby had to do was wait, and wait he did.
When he later found out that his "wife" had been found with her wrists sliced open in her cell next to the only picture she had of her son, suspicions were rising about his new luxurious lifestyle. He didn't even know this until a week after it happened. Partying for six days a week really took it out of you, but when he found out he knew what he had to do. He would have to wait it out, lay low, make sure he had a job to "support" his stepchild. He was in the process of conducting plans on how to get rid of him with the least amount of suspicion. He thought about this as he finished up fixing the gas leak in the kitchen. "Wouldn't want any kids to get hurt" he thought. As he packed up his tools he gazed at his watch, drowsy and in dire need of a bottle of Jim Bean and a prostitute he had on speed dial. It was 1:59am. "Jesus, how much longer do I have to do this shitty job-" he was cut off by the sound of the phone in the small office down the hallway.
Colby darted his eyes as fast as a bullet to his watch and groaned, "Who the hell calls at 2am?" and a long obnoxious sigh in between, "Probably the manager of this joint wanting to ask if I'm done yet, can't be having this place full of kids in here when I'm fixing a gas leak." he murmured with a grin. He hurried down the hall, but it was too late, as he reached for the phone, the person calling had given up on the 7th ring and he found the line silent. He sighed at his wasted efforts when something caught his eye. It was a tablet of some sort, no name brand inscribed, just simply an "on" button. "Weird."he thought, as an abrupt crash in the kitchen he was just working in made him jump. "What the hell was that!?" he yelled. "Oh no, did I forget to clamp the lines!?"
He was sure he did, he was always thorough with his work, job or con. He dashed to the kitchen to see a large yellow bird with a still menacing look on his beak holding the gas line to the stove he had just been working on. He stumbled back into the double doors not having the slightest clue on what the hell was going on, he ran for the front door, only to find it guarded by a purple bunny who was barely noticeable to his poor eyesight in the dark until he managed to reach 6 feet in front the door. He made a quick 180 looking back after the fifth step only to see that the animatronic bunny was back on stage. "There's no fucking way." he said taking quick breaths as he huffed his way back to the small office.
He pulled out his cell. NO SERVICE it read. "Damn it!" he said as he picked up the phone and pressed the return call option on the phone. "Thank God for landlines!" He kept checking the entrances of the office paying no attention to his only hope of survival that was a button on the wall labeled "DOOR." It was 2:15 when the other end of the line went to voicemail. The phone spoke, "Hello, this is Michael Schmidt with Sean Lenson's Accounting Firm, please leave your name, number and I will get ba-" Colby was interrupted by a blunt object colliding with his skull causing a fracture. He passed out before he even hit the floor.
He awoke to a hissing sound, his head throbbed like a strained heart. He could barely move his legs and had even less control over his fingers. A pool of blood smeared from the struggle of trying to get up lie on the white tiled floor. He heard multiple voices near the doorway but could not see in his disoriented state. The darkness didn't help either. The first voice from a red figure said "You need to stop this, we will get caught eventually." the second, a feminine one responded in a sarcastic tone "And who's actually going to believe that we were responsible?" with a quick backlash of words "No! You and Bonnie, not "we", I had no part in this. Even Freddy said you two needed to calm down." To which the other said "Whatever. He deserves it anyway, I can tell, and on the flipside it will look like an accident." The reddish figures voice said, "Deserved it or not, this needs to stop." the reddish looking figure said as the other flicked the match and the doors started to close. Colby heard the thud of doors closing and saw a faint yellow light, like a firefly in the midnight air, but what he soon felt was far worse. The light grew fast, and in an instant turned into a plethora of large flames, Colby knew what was happening, bleeding and disoriented, he knew he was fucked.
The blast blew him across the kitchen his entire front side on fire, he felt his arms burning Immediately, bone started to show at the tips of his fingers, all of his hair instantly scorched off, his clothing melting to his skin, and was unable to move. Quickly losing his vision and choking on smoke and flames, it took Colby T. Mcgrath seven minutes to finally die.