AN: Yes, I know I have been gone a bit. It is hard to explain and honestly, I just hope my readers understand that life is complicated. This is a strong PG13 rating, possibly R. There are rape scenes in this chapter but it is not graphic. I think this story will be a short story and do not expect it to go over five or so chapters. As always, thanks for your support.
Anything in italics is a flashback. Please review:
You pace. Back and forth, back, and forth. Hours on end. You pace and take a drag on your vape and pace some more. You look at the clock and see that its well past three in the morning. You had done a horrific act hours ago; the media was already posting your photo everywhere. Alongside what you had done.
And the images keep replaying in your head; the adrenaline that had rushed through your body as you grabbed her. The adrenaline you felt as you quickly disposed of her weapon and dragged her fighting and kicking away from her perceived safety. The power you felt racing through you as you shoved her towards your van, the joy you felt as your partner grabbed her from you and pulled her in. The power you felt as together, the two of you held a drugged cloth over her nose and mouth, the relief you felt when the blonde lost consciousness.
You had done it. You had completed the social media dare that would win you thousands of followers. But you needed more, you wanted more. And your mind is forcing you to recall the decisions you and your partner had made. How a social media post had dared and promised the team that could accomplish the most outrageous task would be guaranteed those long sought-after fans.
You relished the memory of driving away, the woman now unconscious, your partner already rubbing her body. You take another drag and close your eyes, trying to remember and relish in every detail of the events. You feel the adrenaline go coursing through your body again at the memory and then you smile. You don't have to have all the details to remember, you and your partner had done so much more. Together, you had set your phones to record it; to record everything. And you go and sit in your room, stripping off your clothes as you relax on our bed and grab your phone. You immediately open the video and cast it to your smart TV. You can now watch it in full screen. And as the screen picks up and starts playing, your phone continues to buzz; every buzz is a new follower. A new follower you had viewed your stunt. A new follower. And you had already wracked up close to 12,000 new followers.
But it came at a cost. It came at the cost of the FBI agent's life. Well, you think it did. You did not really give a rat's ass if she died, and you had left her in a cold and abandoned warehouse severely injured. Bleeding, broken bones, shallow breathing. If they have not found her yet, they sure as hell were not going to find her alive now. It was too cold, the weather was less then ideal, and it was dark out. And she could not move. She could not move because of her injures but also because you had made sure to leave her restrained in multiple ways. You had left her handcuffed and then restrained in a wrap that was often used to highly aggressive and dangerous patients in mental hospitals. She could not get out. And then you had gagged and blindfolded her before walking away.
You glance up and see the video replaying and this is where it was getting good. You take a deep breath and watch, watch as if this was the first time you are seeing it, watch as you are reliving it:
"Man, look, carry her upstairs. I've got the phone going." You direct your partner. He nods and lifts the unconscious woman into his arms as he follows you into the dark and decaying building. "Alright my fans," you turn the camera towards yourself as you smile. "We were challenged to do this dare and we have done it. But we decided to up the challenge, make it a tad bit riskier." You switch the camera over to the woman, her vest still on her. "We got ourselves an FBI agent," You pause and then again smile at the camera, "if you want to see what's coming next, just hit that notification button. We have a time set that we want everything done by; anything you want done, let us know."
And things had quickly progressed from there; subscriber after subscriber rushed in, all wanting various things done. All wanting to watch this happen to this woman. And you and your partner had done all of it without hesitation.
"Y'all are some fucked up bastards, let me tell you!" You laugh as another task came in. "So Marty from Michigan wants us to see… damn dude, you are fucked in the head," you shake your head and then shrug. "What's you say darlin?" You bend down so that the blonde is looking straight into the camera. Her face already swollen from the beating you had given her; another request of a follower.
And you had completed that task, and the following ones. And it had gone on for hours on end. The torment ongoing. You smile as you remember feeling her skin under yours, feeling her heart racing as you forced yourself into her, felt her tense up.
"Be a good girl," you laugh as your partner forces her legs apart; "you can fight if you want, I don't mind," You smile as you see the pain suddenly flash across her face, you laugh as she tries to squirm away from you. "Now now," you tell her, "be a good girl for me," you look at your partner and both of you have the same idea and he pulls down his pants as you pull the girl to a standing position. She is so weak at this point, she is not able to hold herself up. "Looks like you need some help, we can help. We are really…. Really big in case you haven't noticed." You smile at your partner as he comes behind the girl and both of you begin to have your time with her. You hear her whimper, see her bleeding, but you do not care; for you are having the time of your life.
More dares and challenges began to roll in, each viler then the last. You had to find props from around the decaying warehouse and used anything you could find. Old tools became your friend, but her enemy. Her body had taken a pounding and you had realized she was nearing her end, but you had to go out with one last challenge.
"What do you think sweet girl?" You bend down and smooth her bloody hair away from her pale face. There is blood everywhere; she is hardly able to respond. Her bones have been broken; she simply cannot fight anymore. You force her to look at you and show her her own flashlight that you had taken off of her earlier. "This needs to go somewhere…"
And the video shows you shoving the device inside of her, laughing as she shakes in pain. It shows you and your partner restraining her, wrapping her broken legs together so that the flashlight remains in place. It shows you gagging her and blindfolding her and rolling her to her side before taking the hammer and bringing it down hard on her back. A crack could be heard on the video and you simply smile at what you had accomplished. You watch as you and your partner wrap her in the full body restraint.
"Thanks for the party sweet girl, and to our followers, thanks for watching!"
And the video ends and your mind flashes between the present and past. Your partner had crashed out on your couch hours before. And you had turned on the TV and that was when it had hit you. This was the FBI; this was the most powerful investigative team in the world, and they were after you.
And so, the pacing continued, your anxiety picking up on every sound; wondering if they had found you or her yet. You debate making a run for it and then you consider your loyal followers; the ones who had begged for the acts down. If the FBI gets you, surely one of your followers will bail you out, surely one of them is an attorney who will defend you.
And as the night goes on, you start to relax; if they have not found you yet, chances were that they will not. You sigh and roll over, yawning as you smile and quickly fall asleep.
You are suddenly awakened by a loud bang, you jolt up and the lights and sounds are disorienting. You do not have time to move before you are grabbed and thrown on the floor. Your heart racing, your mind trying to process what is happening.
Your room is filled with smoke, there are people standing all around you, guns pointed at you. And it occurs to you that this is the FBI. They found you.
One of them kneels next to you, his expression oddly stoic. "Where is she?" he asks.
You shake your head; you are not going down for this yet. "Where is who? Man, get off me, I have rights!" You shout, trying to get up.
"You waved your rights the moment you set a finger on my agent. Where is she?"
A smile forms across your cheek, you have them. "What? You can find me but not her? What a damn letdown." You suddenly feel yourself being pulled up and you can see that you are surrounded by men in gear.
A man steps closer to you, his hand on his gun. "Where is my agent?" His voice is deadly calm, and you watch as he unholsters his gun. You look around, not one person is working to stop him. You watch as they all turn their backs to you; it is a very clear message. "Five," he starts counting and lifts the gun.
"What?" You twitch a little bit.
"Four" he raises his gun at you. "Don't think any of these men are going to stop me from doing this. If you die from a gunshot wound, we have plenty of eyes here that will say you fired first."
You shake your head, "You cannot do this!"
"Three," he takes a stance and your heart races. You see him look to the side and see something and as he looks back to you, his eyes are full of rage. You glance over and see what he saw. Blood. Bloody clothes. A woman's bra and panties, and there, right in plain sight is the same vest everyone in the room is wearing.
"Two." And then a horrific sound emerges, and you dive away. He had fired the gun and it had missed your ear by inches. "Next time, I will not miss."
And you swallow. "Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?"
"Take me to her,"
And you blink. You rack your mind and then look back at him. "I don't know where I left her."
"Describe it to me then," he commands.
"An abandoned warehouse, fourth floor, stairwell."
He looks at you one more time before speaking into his vest, instantly you hear a rush of footsteps. "If I find her dead, this will be your last day on earth."
It is hours later, and you find yourself praying that the woman is not dead. Because you have no doubt that the stoic agent will follow through on his threats. You are handcuffed to a table, and cannot move, the events of the last twenty-four hours are hitting you; the amount of trouble you are in. You will need a good lawyer, but you have no doubt your followers will fundraise for you. After all, they are the ones who made you do this.
And you sit and sit and sit. You do not know how many hours have gone by when you hear a commotion and see the stoic agent storming in. His face red with anger and his eyes fixated on you. And for the first time you feel fear.