It was a night like all the others since he had quit his job . Derek would wear one of his new suits and wander off the city, to see what would it kill him first, the cancer or a random crazy head . Once reached exhaustion or simply boredom he would then take a cab and get back home .
Derek was walking with quick strides, high on his medications when he saw him . Chris Wainright . He was holding a bottle of liquor, ill-hidden inside a paper bag, from which he would drink in big gulps .
Chris was talking and laughing loudly with a teen girl that was showing a lot of skin . She was holding a joint, taking big puffs, until they traded and got into a car .
It was a custom painted muscle car . Not the same Camaro that Chris had used to kill Carl, it was even bigger and more expensive .
In that moment, Derek wanted to puke blood . How could he possibly have forgotten about that little b*astard? Had his cancer really screwed up his brain so bad to be willing to let such a loose end slip?
The tires screeched and the car started suddenly, almost running over a woman that was crossing the road . The skimpily dressed girl rolled down the window, yelling insults at the woman that was still frozen in fear .
Derek could almost hear that couple of idiots laughing . Gritting his teeth, he called a cab and started to plan his final act .
First, he started to stalk Chris on all the social networks, learning all his routines and habits . Then Derek began to follow him, and planted a GPS tracker under the Camaro to always know his exact location .
Simply skimming through Chris' Chirper, he found at least fifty violations of the parole deal . While following him, Derek took many photos of Chris abusing alcohol and drugs .
But Derek had no intention to submit the evidence to the police . What could he possibly gain from that? Chris would just get another slap on the wrist and then start being more careful .
Derek had not the luxury of time, nor the willingness of doing what the so-called justice system was supposed to .
Less than a week later, by checking Chris' Bookface page, Derek learnt of a rave he would participate to . Derek double checked his equipment and jumped into his new car, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala .
The best car to hunt monsters with . The rave was "secret", hence it would take place in some run-down abandoned location .
Derek followed Chris closely, and as soon they were away from traffic cams he run into the Camaro from the side, forcing Chris to halt .
As soon as Chris stepped down of the car, Derek took him down with a stun gun, and then quickly proceeded to check if the Camaro had more passengers .
It seemed to be his lucky night, Chris was driving alone . Derek searched him and crushed every electronic device he could find, bitfit, smartphone, even Chris' keychain .
Derek tied him hands and feet and ball gagged him . Then he destroyed his own smartphone and the GPS tracker, tossing everything outside the road .
Then he moved Chris in the trunk of the Impala, headed toward a party only for the two of them .
Derek drove to an abandoned warehouse in the old industrial area . He had already got rid of the lock and chain that kept the big metallic doors closed, replacing them with his own .
Inside the warehouse there were only two chairs, both bolted to the ground, a bucket and several water tanks .
Derek opened the trunk, discovering that Chris had regained his senses so he tased him again . Then he took Chris to a chair and started tightly binding his arms and legs to it .
Then Derek splashed him with a bucket of water forcing him to regain focus .
"Hello, Chris . My name is Derek Esposito, and you killed my brother . We need to talk . "
Chris tried getting out of the restraints, and while commending his efforts, Derek violently hit him in the groin with a nightstick . The pain paralyzed him .
"Were was I? Oh, yes . The last time we saw each other was during your farce-trial . Do you remember me?" Chris' panting intensified .
"Good . Let's get straight to business . " Derek took two digital timers out of the car, setting the first to thirty minutes and the second to two hours, forty-four minutes and sixteen seconds .
Then, he pulled out a gun and double tapped Chris' liver . His scream was muffled by the gag ball, but the shots echoed loudly in the empty warehouse .
Derek started both timers simultaneously and came in close, checking the blood . It was dense and black, a clear indicator of a crushed liver .
"Now before the real pain settles in, I need you to take a good look to the timers, they are really important . " Chris was crying and screaming, so Derek had to splash him again and pull him by hair to get his attention .
"The first timer marks how much time you have left . After it rings, even if someone should miraculously break through that door and rescue you, you would be dead anyway . You have only so much time until your system gets flooded by toxins unfiltered by the liver, to the point that no transplant can save you . The second timer is a surprise . We'll get to it in time . For now, your only task is to stay awake and savour every moment of pain, like Carl did . "
The time flew, Chris kept screaming through the gag ball, and soon the fist timer rang .
Chris started sobbing even stronger, sometimes stopping only because overwhelmed by the constantly rising pain .
Derek would speak to him no longer, he would just pace back and forth, occasionally checking the second timer .
Every time Chris fainted, Derek would splash him and force him to stay awake before refilling the bucket .
When the second timer rang, Derek finally spoke again .
"I have bad news and I have good news . The bad news is that I lied before . I thoroughly researched liver injuries, and with such crushed liver you had no hope to begin with . Even if I had shot you in front of the best hospital in the USA, unless they had a compatible liver at hand, you would have died . I wanted to give you false hope, as happened to my brother while waiting for help . The good news is that you just suffered as long as Carl did . I may be many things, unrelenting, vengeful, a liar, a murderer but I am also fair . So your suffering ends now . "
Derek pointed the gun to Chris' head and double tapped him .
Then he pointed it to his own head .
"Little brother, I'm coming . Wait for me . " And pulled the trigger one last time .
While Derek's body was still falling, his consciousness was basked in light and he felt pulled toward the sky .
After months of grieving, a whole lifetime of misery and pain, Derek felt that all his traumas and hatred were fading away .
Derek had never experienced such bliss . In this new form he felt no negative emotion, he was in peace with his past, unafraid of his future .
Derek was enjoying a present that he felt could lead to endless possibilities, and there was no right and wrong, success or failure . He would simply be, no strings attached .
That intoxicating feeling lasted until he suddenly woke up, alive and breathing .
All his negative emotions returned, plunging him back into despair . Derek cursed inwardly while trying to focus his eyes . Maybe it was because of the shot to the head, but his vision was blurry .
"So much for the perfect plan . Some idiot must have rescued me and somehow I survived the journey to the hospital . I am still alive . I still have cancer . I am still alone . " But when his eyes finally cleared up, they strongly disagreed with his reasoning .
Derek was in some kind of huge metal corridor surrounded by dead bodies . Alien dead bodies to be precise . They were all wearing some kind of full body armour, that resembled some kind of sci-fi space suit .
"Where the f**k am I? What the hell does this mean?" He screamed while trying to get up, only to fall back on the floor .
He fell hand first, and only then he noticed that he was wearing a space suit too, and that his hands, all four of them, had three fingers each .
"WHAT! THE! ACTUAL! F**K!"
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