CONTENT WARNING! This might be the bloodiest and most sadistic thing I have ever written.
Arthur stared at his phone, waiting to see a message appear any moment. It was unlike Michelle to send such a vague alert about clients at the office, then not reply within ten minutes to his follow-up question.
After the inconclusive interrogation with Ludwig at the police station this morning, Roderich had joined the JCI executive for lunch at one of Alfred's preferred downtown luxury restaurants. They went their separate ways after dining, and Arthur's personal chauffeur had just arrived to take him back to the office when Michelle messaged him.
Arthur glanced up from his phone to see that they had arrived at the front doors of Westminister Tower. As the vehicle stopped, a valet approached and opened the vehicle door for him. Arthur stepped out into the open air, before marching directly into the building. He briefly glanced around the public reception area, where many professional workers were going about their business, as he made a beeline for the elevators.
"Arthur!"
He paused and turned to find the voice, discovering that Lieutenant van Ryn was at the reception desk speaking to two security guards. Upon making the eye contact, Lars waved him over, and Arthur nodded as he made his approach.
"Hello gentlemen," Arthur greeted, "What can I do for you?"
"We have an unusual situation in progress that involves your firm," Lars reported, "Have you heard from any of your employees in the past fifteen minutes?"
"My secretary messaged me about ten minutes ago now, nothing since," Arthur replied, "What is going on?"
"Dispatch received a series of dropped 911 calls, they've been tracked back to your office's various phone lines," Lars explained, "We've attempted calling back, but nobody is answering. We fear that something may have happened."
"Well, we should check the office at once," Arthur urged, "Whenever Michelle leaves the front desk during working hours, she always makes sure someone can answer the phone for her."
"That's what I was about to do," Lars agreed before turning to the security personnel, "One of you should come along, we may have a situation that affects the entire building."
"I'll come along," the taller security guard volunteered, "Steve, keep your radio on, I'll let you know if we need anything."
"Sure thing, Jack," the second security guard replied.
"I'm coming as well,' Arthur insisted as Jack came around the desk.
"Um, are you sure that's a good idea, Mr. Kirkland?" Jack asked, "If something goes wrong - "
"There's no point talking him out of it," Lars cut in, "Arthur always gets his way."
The three men walked towards the elevators, and having two of them being prominent public figures allowed them to bypass the queue and take the first available lift. Arthur quickly pressed the button for his firm's floor, followed by holding the button to shut the lift doors.
"Arthur, you said your secretary messaged you about ten minutes ago," Lars queried as the elevator rose, "Do you have a timestamp on that message?"
"I can get that, yes," Arthur replied as he pulled out his phone, unlocked the screen, and tapped on the message, "I received the message at 12:38, does that mean anything?"
"Dispatch received their first call at 12:34," Lars analysed, "Either it took four minutes for that message to deliver itself, or it was sent after the 911 calls started. We might need to make a note of that."
"You might be onto something there," Arthur agreed, "I usually receive replies within a minute of sending Michelle a message from across the city."
The elevator halted its motion, and the doors opened. Arthur led the way onto the floor's landing, marching straight to the firm entrance. The two ornate wooden doors were shut, and a sign was hanging from the handle claiming early closure.
"Now that's a load of bullshit," Arthur comments as he pulled away the sign, "It's hard enough to close for statutory holidays."
"I should open it, Arthur," Lars suggested as Arthur tried to open the door, "Just in case something is happening."
"It's locked," Arthur noted as he felt the resistance from the doors, "I'll unlock it for you."
Arthur reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and removed the key from where it was kept. He inserted the key into the lock, and turned it until he heard the unlocking click. He then removed the key and backed away, allowing Lars to open the door while he put the key and wallet away.
Lars leaned against the right door and pressed it open, slowly and methodically in case of any need for reaction. Waiting a moment at each step, he proceeded to open the door further, inch by inch, until a wide enough gap was created for him to slowly slip through, gun held ready. Arthur held his breath in anticipation as Lars slipped all the way in and disappeared from sight, and waited for the outcome.
"Holy fuck," Arthur could hear Lars say from inside the room, before the door opened further.
"What is it?" Arthur asked as Lars appeared in the widened doorway and waved them in.
"Jack, you need to call your security team immediately," Lars ordered, "We need to put the building on lockdown."
Arthur slid past Lars into the office, and felt his stomach drop immediately as he beheld the scene.
Throughout the reception area, clients and associates alike were laying dead on the ground.
Aghast, Arthur backed up in horror until his back hit the wall to the right of the door, feeling almost queasy as his mind began interpreting the terrifying sight. Through the thick haze of shock and terror, he could hardly understand the words spoken by his two companions making urgent reports on their radios.
"Steve, get Bob off his break now! We need to lock down the building immediately, someone went on a shooting spree at the Kirkland office!"
"Dispatch, we have multiple homicides at the Kirkland office, at least ten dead. Send all available units over here at once, and get the Commissioner as well."
After a couple moments, the haze was able to lift from his mind, and Arthur removed himself from the wall. He slowly strolled through the room, stepping over the bodies respectfully while observing them. Some were clients, others were associates, and all had bullet wounds in their heads and chests. As he reached the front desk, Arthur noticed the large splatter of blood on the wall behind it. He leaned over the counter to look, only to immediately back away from the sight, bringing his hand to his mouth to make sure neither screams or vomit came out.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Arthur mumbled into his hand, trying to calm himself down as Lars and Jack both reached the counter to look over.
"Oh my fucking god," Jack gasped, "Is that the receptionist we were trying to call?"
"It sure is," Lars morosely confirmed, "Whoever did this must have known her and made it personal."
"Why do you say that?" Jack asked as Arthur finally mustered the courage to look again.
"All the other deaths were strictly bullet wounds to the head or chest," Lars explained, "They intentionally cut her open."
"You're right, they made her suffer," Arthur agreed, finally finding his words as he observed Michelle's corpse, propped against the bottom of the wall, bloody wounds covering her torso and exposing several of her organs.
Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur noticed Lars suddenly go alert, so he turned to watch as the police leaned over to look down the hallway.
"What is it?" Arthur asked.
"I heard movement, there's someone else," Lars explained, "Arthur, stay here at the counter."
Arthur stayed put as Lars rounded the edge of the counter, keeping his back to the wall beside Michelle's body. He moved his gun into position, before doing a corner-check down the hallway.
"This is the police!" Lars shouted down the hallway, "Come on out with your hands in the air!"
Arthur waited for the long tense moment, but no reaction came from down the hallway.
"This is the police!" Lars repeated with more intensity, "Come on out with your hands in the air!"
Another long tense moment passed, but there was still no reaction. Lars finally backed away from the wall and came back to the counter.
"We are definitely not alone," Lars quietly confirmed.
"What do we do?" Arthur asked.
"Arthur, you are staying right here in the reception area," Lars ordered, "Jack, you take the left hallway, I'll take the right, we'll rendezvous at Arthur's office in the back. Double-check and clear all corners and offices. If you find any associates, send them out here to join Arthur. If you find the killer, you have my authorization to shoot."
"Got it," Jack acknowledged.
As the two men went off to survey the hallways, Arthur crouched down to use the counter as a potential barricade. He looked back at the front wall and entrance doors that had been shut again. Focusing on the doors as a visual distraction from the corpses at ground level, he took deep calming breaths.
"Everything will be fine," Arthur muttered to himself reassuringly, "There is nothing to fear."
Gunfire suddenly erupted from the left hallway where Jack had gone, and Arthur immediately covered his ears to block the noise. As the bullet holes filled the wall by the door, Arthur noted the increased risk in trying to rush for the exit. He tried to focus on remaining calm as the barrage lasted for several seconds before stopping.
After a few moments of silence, Arthur willed his hands to move away from his ears, only to slam them back into place as more gunfire blasted in the right hallway where Lars was investigating. Noting that Jack had not come back down the hallway to explain what happened, Arthur began fearing the worst and considering his options.
The bombardment ended, and silence crept over the office again. Arthur slowly crawled to his right, keeping against the counter, and leaned to peak down the hallway where Jack had gone.
Jack's body was on the ground, clearly shot dead.
Arthur quickly backed away from the sight, and crawled to the other side, contemplating the scenario in his mind. If the same had happened to Lars, that would mean that Arthur was alone in his office with the shooter. That would also mean that the shooter could easily emerge from either hallway and shoot Arthur dead before he could reach the front door. As such, his best option would be to grab the police radio from Lars and report his own last words to dispatch.
Arthur leaned over and confirmed the path that lay ahead, before slowly creeping out into the hallway. He made sure to crawl slowly and quietly, the last thing he needed was for any sounds of his movement. Partway down the hallway, Arthur finally reached the place where Lars lay dead on the ground, and heard the audio transmitting from the still-working radio on the Lieutenant's shoulder. Arthur grabbed it, found the microphone button, and immediately began speaking into it.
"Dispatch, this is Arthur Kirkland. Lieutenant van Ryn has been shot dead, as well as the building's security guard. There is still at least one armed gunman in my office, I am completely on my own - "
Arthur's voice faltered as he felt the end of a gun barrel press against his temple, followed by the click of the safety being turned off. The tension made him unable to understand the response from dispatch.
"Drop the radio, Arthur."
Arthur knew there would be no negotiating with the familiar voice that spoke from behind him. He slowly raised his hands in the air beside him, allowing the radio to fall from his grip on the right.
"On your feet," the voice demanded next.
Arthur rose from his knees and stood, turning as he did so to face the Spaniard.
"You must be so happy with yourself, you fucking asshole." Arthur snarked with the last of his courage.
"Down the hallway, and into your office," Antonio instructed with a sadistic smirk, "She's waiting for you."
Arthur's gut dropped in dread as he realized what was about to happen. He turned away and started walking down the hallway, noting the gun barrel still pressed to his head as Antonio followed closely. Arthur tried to keep a steady confident pace to his footsteps, struggling to think of anything other than how he was walking towards his own funeral. At the back corner of the hallway, they turned left down the last stretch towards Arthur's executive office, where the open doors awaited their entrance. As Arthur turned to enter his office, he saw that the room was already occupied.
Mathilda was sitting on Arthur's desk, her legs hanging in front with the ankles crossed. She was wearing a ravishing forest green dress, topped with a black blazer that appeared to be stained with blood from their massacre. Ivan was sitting in the guest chair, working on a glass of champagne that must have been freshly poured from the bottle beside him.
"Hello Arthur," Mathilda greeted, smirking from behind her own glass of champagne, "I finally came home, just like you wanted."
"This is not what I meant with having you return," Arthur firmly stated as he moved forward, noting that Antonio had lowered the gun from his temple, "You know that as well as I do."
"You should be happy to see me, Arthur," Mathilda whined, "I came to complete what we've both wanted for the past few years."
"What exactly are you talking about?" Arthur prodded as Mathilda finished off her glass of champagne.
"The end of our marriage, of course," Mathilda replied, placing the glass on the desk.
"By what means do you intend to end it?" Arthur inquired, noting Ivan rise from his chair, "You've made it clear that divorce is not on the table."
"Golly gee, you actually figured that part out," Mathilda teased as she leapt from the desk and stood between it and Arthur, "You're right, I do not want a divorce, that will give you everything. There's really only one thing I want from you."
"What do you want, then?" Arthur asked, looking dead in her sadistically gleaming eyes.
"Let's put it this way," Mathilda answered, "Why settle for divorce when I can take it all as your widow?"
Mathilda glided away to the left, maintaining her sinister eye contact with Arthur until she looked over and winked at Ivan. The boys immediately grabbed for Arthur, spun him, and pinned his back to the desk surface. Arthur struggled to escape their grasp, but the force was too strong as they were holding each arm in place. His efforts were further halted as Mathilda then climbed onto the desk and straddled him, sitting on his torso just above the belt. Arthur tried to look at what Mathilda had in her hands, but was overwhelmed by the pressure on his lower abdomen.
"You're not actually turned on by this, are you?" Mathilda scolded, "For years you controlled everything about my life. Did you ever, just once, consider letting me make my own choices? Let me take control?"
Mathilda leaned forward, placing her forearms on each side of Arthur's head to position herself so that her face hovered directly above Arthur's.
"You know, Arthur, we could've explored this," Mathilda whispered just above his lips, "My dominance kink would've thrilled you beyond comparison. But no, you were an abusive control freak, and I'm done with your bullshit!"
Mathilda's right arm suddenly swung up, and Arthur had barely a moment to see the knife in her hand before she stabbed the blade into his neck.
Arthur immediately felt the sharp pain and began hyperventilating, only to find himself already choking on his own blood and struggling for air. His vision was already fading from the dizziness, but he was able to focus one last time to see Mathilda hovering over him. She was drenched in the blood that had sprayed from his neck, her eyes shining with sadistic glee, as she muttered the last words he would ever hear.
"Go burn in hell, Arthur."