Um, I used the F-bomb a lot in here because i like it. if it were in human form, i would marry it...so be warned...thanx...bye...

~

CHAPTER THREE

The narrow grasslands had stopped abruptly into the spit of a city, mock houses each impersonating the one next to it. Except for maybe that the trim along the top was a darker blue, or that the walls were a little more gray than the other, but most in all the same.

"What happens if the batteries die in this?" Stu asked, making conversation, keeping the voice on the line, even though he knew it wouldn't go away.

"Then your wife dies." The voice said this cuspily, as if he was picking his teeth. There was silence following, the pressure of this point having been pushed to the extreme. The thought of his wife at the hands of this man made Stu want to bleed.

"Is this a joke to you?" He didn't mean it as conviction and thank god it didn't come out that way.

"Could be," the voice sounded almost interested in this conversation, lapping at his teeth with his tongue, feeling their gleam. "I charged the batteries before I had it sent to you."

"What about the collar?"

"If it stops moving, Kelly dies. Makes things much more simple doesn't it?"

"What if I crash?"

"You won't."

"What if I do?"

"What do you think?" The voice had soon gotten tired of the cat and mouse game

"How do you know I didn't make a phone call while I was in the bathroom?" He tried another angle.

"The phone's bugged."

"I could have went to the pay phone."

"Are you confessing then, Stu?" The voice tightened.

"No, I'm just saying..." whoops, he cut that one too fucking close.

"The girl at the counter acted like that was the first time she'd seen you, I assumed." It seemed so boringly obvious to the voice now. The game had run its course and was now quickly spiraling downward.

"But still, I could have hid my face. Why believe me?"

"Because I trust you Stu," complacency nearly reeking from the receiver, the random comment setting Stu back in his seat.

"Why should you trust me?"

"Because I made you."

"What?"

"Who showed you that the 'truth will set you free'? It was me. Sure, when you were born your family made you a strong healthy boy. When you were in Westmont High School Chelsea Vitola got drunk and showed you her pussy, she made you a man. And when you were a no-account ~ plugging for people who didn't have a chance, you made yourself into a lie. But me Stu, it was me that made you trustworthy again. Remember that? I whittled you down to the materialistic piece of shit you were and I showed you who you'd become. I showed you the light."

"The light?" It was a mocking tone.

"You a nonbeliever Stu?"

"I wasn't, but I lost my faith two months ago."

The voice laughed. "You never cease to impress me."

"That's what I was fucking going for, pal." Stu breathed into the phone.

"Is there a problem Stu?" The voice turned suddenly serious again. Fucking Christ if this guy didn't have bipolar disorder.

"A problem?" The mocking tone came out coating his words like the poison casing Snow White's doomed apple. "No, no I don't see a fucking problem. Hell, I'm out in the middle of fuck knows where with my wife back at home, alone, with some fucked-up lunatic whose only reason for being so fucked up is because he wants to teach me the right way to live life. A fucking problem? It's only a fucking problem if you're on this end of the line pal."

Run all you fucking woodland creatures, run like hell.

"I was nice before Stu," the voice coughed, their lips close enough to scathe the receiver, "don't push your fucking luck."

"I'm sorry," he spat, but wasn't then regrettingly was, "look, I'm fucking sorry, I'm just-" he rubbed at his temple, his elbow now against the steering wheel, "I'm just stressed."

"I'll bet you are." That same finger plucked the chord of outburst. "I'm trying to show you something-"

"You're showing me something?" Stu cut in, laughing insultingly. "What the fuck are you showing me now? How I can have a heart attack at the age of thirty? How I can be a fucking meat puppet scared shitless because someone's severing my strings right and left all around me, all because you want you to get your fucking shits and giggles! Oh yeah, you've shown me a shitload buddy! You're showing me how many fucking ways I can die because my life isn't fucking good enough for you!"

Then it all suddenly became clear.

"I know why you're doing this." Stu turned left on Beckham Street, not knowing why, just pulling his arms, heat of the moment kind of shit.

"And why is that?" The voice was brimming, but had not built a head yet.

"It's because you have no control in your life. Your life's fucking falling apart all around you and you can't do shit about it."

"Look who's talking to their psychiatrist now..." The voice mused.

"I hope your world's coming down on you asshole and I hope it crushes you." Stu was persistent, trusting his gut instinct that he could feel that he was on to something.

The voice laughed, but it didn't last for long. "Maybe," he could swear he heard a smile crack on the voice's face.

"Or maybe I was just bored today."

There was a pause, a slight tapping on the other side of the line.

"You seem to know things pretty well Stu, you sure you're not describing your own life?"

Stu was silent, knowing it was true.

The voice took on a somber tone. "You seem to know everything so well smart guy, seem to have everything pegged. Well, I'm gonna let you have a little piece of my life. Do you see that girl?"

"How the fuck-" He looked, but did not want to. "Where? What girl?"

"She's down the street. Do you see her? She has blonde hair. She's wearing a red dress."

"I don't see her..." Stu pussyfooted hesitantly.

"You're lying Stu..." There was a cry of pain following the statement. Stu's throat tightened. He could hear the blood spill from his wife's white neck and dribble onto the receiver as the voice held it close.

"I SEE HER! Fuck, I see her..." Stu relented into the phone, his eyes fixated on the little girl with blonde hair.

"Good boy Stu...you're learning well..."

"...Kelly..."

"Hit the girl Stu." The voice was even.

He felt a hand go through his gut.

"What?!".

"Hit the girl Stu." Like a carbon copy.

"With the car?" It seemed unreal.

"Yes."

"No! No, I- I won't..."

"Do it Stu." His voice was brimming. "Do not make me angry."

"I won't hit her!"

"Hit the little girl. Do NOT make me tell you again Stu."

"She's just a little girl..." Stu whispered to himself.

"YOUR WIFE WILL DIE!" The voice screamed and Kelly's voice screamed with him, one of terror and pain as he drove the knife hard into her skin, threatening to hit the gristle of her larynx.

"ALRIGHT!" Stu screamed and pressed the gas to the floor. "Alright..." Stu felt hot tears roll down his cheeks. The little girl was halfway across the road.

"...fuck..." He closed his eyes and steered straight.

There was a small scream, followed by a thump.