I had Kyle tied and gagged to one of his kitchen chairs in his swanky modern kitchen. I had made sure to cover the entire place with a shit ton of painter’s plastic… you know, for all the blood.
He was going to be out for a while, so I spent the next few hours sifting through the files upon files on documents that Vox was steadily decrypting for me.
Most of it was basic judge stuff, but the deeper I went, the more suspicious I became.
No matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find any evidence that Caleb was this man’s biological son. I couldn’t find a birth certificate anywhere. There weren’t any adoption papers either.During my initial canvas of his house, I found a safe in the master closet. Once I broke into that, I found his marriage certificate there. He was married to a Ms. Amanda Grey… though there were literally no pictures of the happy couple anywhere, not on the walls and not on his computer.
I had begun the tedious process of going through his security footage when I heard the telltale grunt of a tranquilized man waking up.
I fired off a text to Vox, who was watching the footage with me from his remote location at Apex.
Cal:
My new friend is waking up. Ping me if you find anything I can use.
Vox:
*Thumbs up emoji*
“Morning, Krusty!” I beamed. My bandana was no longer covering my mouth. I wore it around my neck because Kyle, for sure, would not be leaving this house alive. Once I got them in a chair, I usually abandoned all attempts at anonymity.
He was understandably groggy and staring at me with a confused look on his face.
Resting my palms on my knees, I leaned forward, still grinning.
“How’d ya sleep?”
He started screaming into the duct tape I had plastered over his mouth, and I chuckled.
“Oh, Kyle. If I were you, I would save the screaming for later. No one can hear you anyway, and I haven’t even gotten started yet.”
He ignored me and continued to thrash and shout into his gag, which was disappointing.
Sighing, I strolled over to the counter, where I had some of my favorite tools laid out. Picking up a scalpel, I turned to face him, rolling it expertly through my fingers.
“Listen. Shut your ass up, or I’ll be forced to remove your eyelids. I mean… I’m probably going to do that at some point anyway, but wouldn’t you want to put that off as long as possible?
My threat did not have the desired effect. He just began screaming and thrashing more frantically.
I shrugged. “Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I straddled his lap and forced his head back with my elbow, pinching one of his eyelids together so I could lift it away from his eye.
Abruptly, he stopped screaming. Instead, I heard what sounded like muffled begging.
I paused, pulling away, giving him a comically ‘stern’ look.
“I can’t understand you. Nod once if you’re going to be good.”
He nodded. I smiled.
“Great!” In one swift movement, I tore the duct tape off his face as I stood up, and he shouted out in pain.
“Jesus fuckingChrist!”He gasped, his skin now raw and red from where the tape had adhered to his face.
I cackled. “That fucker’s not gonna save you, I can promise you that.”
Kyle glared up at me but said nothing. He knew what this was. Whatever power he was accustomed to wielding in his daily life as a judge was no use here.
NowIwas the fucking judge. I was also the jury and the mother fucking executioner. And Kyle Bradshaw fuckingknewit.
