His head spins as he sits on the floor at the king of raptures feet, as he stands up again he thinks about how his supposed 'friend' had been leading him on like an obedient dog.

That the voice that'd been issuing from his portable radio was not, in fact, that of a heartbroken Irishman that witnessed the death of his wife and only child take place before his eyes... That instead it was the voice of a jackal, weaving a thorny web of lies to ensnare him...

He sees his only blood relative handing him a golf club, hears that single word...

"KILL"

A shudder runs down his spine, as usual whenever he was issued a command... 'How have I never noticed?' That is the question that echoes in his mind, and the answer comes quickly... He'd been conditioned not to...

His body moves on its own, arm swinging the club into his head a total of three times. The body falls to the ground, blood spurting out of the newly made hole in the man's skull... He drops the club, the metal making a dull thud as it hits the bloodstained carpet.

His mind is still reeling as the radio sputters to life, the voice of his controller clear despite the white noise that fills his mind...