With Love S.S

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Mundane Monster

The most uninspiring of monsters
Original poster
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Beginner
  2. Elementary
  3. Intermediate
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Transgender
Genres
Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, Animal based, Scifi, Modern, Horror, Comedy, Slice of life.
Month: June
Day: Friday/12
Time: 9:00 AM

Extreme sports in Wool Bridge were rare. They didn't really have many landmarks for it and if they did, those landmarks were already occupied for something less...thrilling. However, there was one place that all the daredevils and thrill seeking wannabes went to inject some fun into their lives; The Abyss. It wasn't an actual abyss, in fact it was a lake, but it was a pretty deep lake that no one had ever reached the bottom of. Well no one living of course. The lake was so deep that anyone who wanted to visit the site needed to sign an agreement to not sue the city if they got hurt or their kids drowned on their yearly camping trip or something.

The Abyss, was the livelihood of Wool Bridge's daredevil community. There were tons of guys and a few girls who were stupid enough to make a living out of teaching people to scuba dive there, or prepare future navy enlistees for well, the navy.

One of these daredevil instructors was Vinicius de Costa a pro surfer, pro scuba diver, pro sky diver and definitely not an actual Brazilian native. He just tanned a lot and spoke with a lisp. He was the most popular instructor and sought out by anyone who wanted to learn how to 'live their life to the fullest' or if they just wanted to screw in the back of the surf shack. Either way. He was a hottie in high demand.

So why the hell did he have to spend his Friday, teaching some old and fat fuck how to scuba dive? He should be over where his colleagues Tommy Tornado and Samantha Shredder were flirting with a gaggle of Italian underwear models! It wasn't fair! But it wasn't like he could complain. The guy was Martin Cassie, a rich and retired CEO, so he would definitely tip generously.

FF_Divider_Pink4.png

Martin Cassie could be described in many words; Powerful. Imposing. Fear inducing. But not thrill seeking. No definitely not. He was almost sixty for God's sakes! Why in the hell would he book a scuba diving class from some overly tanned simpleton?

Well, it had all started a day ago.

He had been lazing around his expansive mansion, figuring out what to do that day when the smart phone that his PR person forced him to get, beeped. He had fiddled with it for awhile, because he still didn't know how to really work the damned thing, until finally he had pulled up the text. He'd thought it was a joke at first or a glitch. But...It was just too accurate.

June 11, and nothing to do, huh?

Call me bias, but I would have thought you'd be toasting the anniversary of the murder of your daughter.

He'd nearly had a heart attack then, but managed to hammer out a response.

Wrong number. I don't have a daughter.

The reply had come back quickly considering the large amount of content.

Not on record you don't. But you and I both know that your brief union with that hooker resulted in the birth of Amelia Cassie. You never told anybody, you thought that hooker had enough sense than to come back twelve months later and demand child support. Man...She should have known that threatening you would end in her losing her life. Oh, but not just hers. Amelia's too. Even though she was less than a year old and wouldn't remember anything, you had to go back for the baby.

Tsk tsk. You know it's pretty ironic that the former CEO of a baby furniture corporation committed infanticide, isn't it?


What do you want? He had typed out quickly and whoever it was had replied immediately. The person--the monster, had told him to book a private class with Vinicius de Costa, then when they dived, he was to disconnect the diver's oxygen tank and only then would his infanticide secret be buried forever.

So that's what he did.


[BCOLOR=#ff0000]Breaking News:[/BCOLOR] [BCOLOR=#ff0000]Famous Scuba Instructor Dies during Private Instruction of Former CEO of Goo Goo Furniture, Martin Cassie. [/BCOLOR]


Earlier this morning, famous scuba diving instructor, Vinicius de Costa died while teaching Martin Cassie, the former CEO of Goo Goo Furniture, how to dive.

After being examined for injuries, Martin Cassie informed the police and media that during their lesson Vinicius de Costa "suddenly started flailing in the water as if he were having some sort of stroke."

Unfortunately the exact cause of de Costa's death will never be discovered as his body sunk to the bottom of Wool Bridge's infamous The Abyss, a lake nearly 4,000 or more feet deep.
 
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06 East Wool Bridge Rd, Wool Bridge
Corell Residence
The Largest House on the End of the Block

Octavian Corell came out of his morning shower, towelling his hair and turned his head as he heard the sound of the TV playing. He frowned as he watched the Flash Report on the early morning news. He didn't know the man per say, absently reaching to his back to rub his scar. He's had enough daredevil stunts when he was younger, but his wife was taught how to scuba at least once per month before she got bored of it last year.

The news of the man's sudden death was shocking, but not something he could do anything about. But the he could sense Rose's bad mood from all the way in their room. It was good to be forewarned. He listened to the News Anchor mumble about the local news and didn't bother to pay attention. He was certain it would all be on the local news paper, which he usually reads during breakfast.

He paused as he examined the cream sweater versus the mocha brown sweater vest. Perhaps he should whisper to his wife's ear that the news were getting dull and may need new management. While it was true, it was easy to manipulate her best times. It would reach his father-in-law sooner or later and perhaps, before the end of the year, he'll be running a version of Tempus News in Wool Bridge. Perhaps...

But that was a thought for a later time, he smelled breakfast. Putting on his non descriptive watch, he shrugged on the mocha brown vest to match his outfit for the day. He greeted his wife with a sad smile, putting on his mask. "Rose..." he called out as she pathetically sniffled at the stove. "Rose, come here." He called out again.

His wife turned off the stove before reaching to grasp him tightly. She did not cry, Rosette Tempus-Corell was raised better than that. But she shook as he held her just as tightly. "I didn't know him that well, Octi." She started, unable to see the face twitch at the ridiculous nickname. "But I knew him, you know." Octavian shushed him as he rocked her slowly. "I know, I know. I was there to give him his pay check, remember?" He told her in jest.

She gave a watery giggle. Her bright blue eyes met his icy blue ones and she gave him a grateful smile. "I don't know what I'll do without you, Octi." she told him. Octavian smiled softly, 'Lived a boring socialite life filled with sex, drugs and alcohol, and dead before you reached 40.' Not that he'd ever tell her that. "What's for breakfast?" He asked instead.

"Omelette." she told him. He pretended to look around her. "I see that the egg shells are on the counter, so that means it's safe to eat." he joked, referring to the last time she decided to cook the dish. Rosette retaliated with pushing away from him to smack him on his arm. "Go make yourself useful, Mr. Wise Guy, and set the table." She ordered him. He laughed and did just that.

Tweet-Tweet-Tweet! Tweet-Tweet-Tweet! Tweet-Tweet-Tweet!

Octavian looked at his pants and set the plates down to grab his phone that just vibrated along with that ridiculous ringtone. Frowning, he swiped his phone in the complicated pattern he set to unlock it. Who would start texting him this early in the morning?

It couldn't be her. They were set to meet next week and they always knew where to go. It wasn't like they needed to text any more details, unless she was bored. But as far as he knew, her shift wasn't until much later. She should still be asleep.

His eyes widened as he read the mail. This was a joke, right?!
 
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One would think the local dead ringer for Rose Leslie would be less adherent to her work schedule given her easygoing and somewhat lazy demeanor, but Charlie Klein was at Tempus Mall, opening up shop. She grunted as she lifted the metal grilles and pushed them open. She dusted her hands and unlocked the door, reversing the baseball cap on her head as she entered. She wasn't hard working and she had no immediate need for money, but she'd much rather be at work because Wool Bridge had nothing much for her, really.

Just Octavian.

Truth is, she thought herself to simply be rearing for something big to happen although she didn't expect it from Wool Bridge of all places. Since only her job pretty much keeps her busy, she got involved with Wool Bridge's geek community where she had a handful of fanboys; all good guys who let her crash in their place and eat their pizza when she was bored.

Like when Octavian is busy.

When done cleaning up a bit, she set up three laptops she needed to repair and played some random anime track on her store playlist. She set up her own laptop and prepared to do the inventory.

Her phone buzzed, she let it be for a moment, busily setting up one laptop for defragmenting but then she couldn't resist.
 
Wool Bridge Community College

Esmerelda "Esme" Acardi did not appreciate the constant bickering of a teacher and a student, and it seemed to be what consumed her class of philosophy--arguments and debates on the truth of the universe. She sighed, bouncing her pencil on her notepad as the argument continued. Most of her classmates were just as bored and aggravated as she was, especially since this would continue for another hour with only the occasional note on the board. It seemed that with every point the professor made, that one student had something to say about it. It was damn irritating.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, but she hardly noticed it at first. She was too focused on the redness of the professor's face as he continued to lose his calm demeanor. She smirked, doing a slight sketch of the angry expression on his face. It was rather amusing, and she always liked to have something to draw. Esme sighed as her phone buzzed again, as she had it set to remind her every few minutes of a text she didn't check. Well, she had nothing better to do. It was probably one of her friends wanting to hang out at the mall later.

She pulled out her phone, her brow furrowing in confusion when she saw the number. Surely it was a mistake. She unlocked it, reading the message quickly.

The room started to spin as she read it again. And again. No, no...no! This couldn't be real. This had to be a nightmare. Her stomach churned as fear overwhelmed her. And just as the professor started to yell, she leaped to her feet and sprinted out of the classroom. She knew they were all watching her, but she didn't care. She had to get out of there. Now.
 
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Barden Wilcox unlocked his home door and slammed it behind him, slumping into his couch with a sigh. Another harrowing day at work. Curse those managers, always setting unreasonable deadlines and not caring if they were followed through with. He was a single man, with only himself and his bills to take care of, so why did he have to come home this exhausted every day? Oh right, because he wasn't really good at anything else. Boy, was he tired. It would be great if he had a wife to take care of things at home, but he didn't have time to look for something like that. And all things considered, he wasn't sure he really wanted a wife. Maybe he should start cohabiting with one of his male coworkers, or better yet, maybe he should just switch his sexuality and become homosexual. He let out a morose laugh. A lot of people's problems would be solved if sexuality was something so easily changed, except he was probably unique in wishing he was gay and not straight. He wondered if any of his coworkers were single. Barden had become a very withdrawn child when he was still young and had never bothered to get to know the guy who had sat in the cubicle across him for two years.

His little flat was nothing special, though it looked as though he'd never graduated college. He had more than enough money to support himself in a studio this small, but he'd just never seen the reason to. It wasn't like he had anyone to accommodate, not even a cat. Oh, there was another option, why not get a pet. Maybe if he got a pet, he could escape the nightmares. His hellish workload wasn't the only thing that kept him up late at night, after all. Sometimes he thought it was the other way around, he had gotten a job like this so he wouldn't have lots of free time to dwell on what happened behind his eyelids at night. The images.... Barden rubbed his eyes hard. He went through this thought process often, but he could never seem to bring himself to act on any of his random thoughts. He was not a man of action, and that was also his sin.

His phone buzzed and he groaned, expecting it to be some other unreasonable order from one of his demanding superiors. With a long sigh, he slowly reached over and unlocked it, quickly navigating to the messages area. The message made his blood freeze over.
 
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@Boss Megu
Sent to: Octavian Corell

You know, the saying is three times the charm. But for you, it's two times, right?

So here's the deal, short and simple, you're being blackmailed. I've found out about your dirty little secret and now you have to do whatever I say or risk exposure. Of course you could always just ignore me or maybe even inform the authorities. But think about it. Do you really want to risk this dirt getting back to Big Daddy Tempus?

So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to text you a place, an order and a target and you are going to do it within the time limit I give you or I'll tell everyone your little secret.

With love,
S.S

@Mippu
Sent to: Charlie Klein

Hey, Henry baby, what's up?

Let's skip the formalities and get straight to the point, shall we? Short and simple, you're being blackmailed. I've found out about your dirty little secret and now you have to do whatever I say or risk exposure. Of course you could always just ignore me or maybe even inform the authorities. But how do you think they'll treat you when they find out about your little home wrecking spree?

So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to text you a place, an order and a target and you are going to do it within the time limit I give you or I'll tell everyone your little secret.

With love,
S.S

@kimsim12
Sent to: Esmerelda Acardi

Hey Esme, why don't you philosophize with me for a minute?

If a lesbian says she's not a lesbian and another lesbian says she is and the first lesbian ends the existence of the second lesbian, was there truly a lesbian in the first place?

Anyway, let's get to the point. You're being blackmailed. I've found out about your forbidden secret and now you have to do whatever I say or risk exposure. Of course you could always just ignore me and continue on the straight and narrow, but we all know that once you go crooked, you never go back.

So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to text you a place, an order and a target and you are going to do it within the time limit I give you or I'll tell everyone your dirty little secret.

With Love,
S.S


@firejay1
Sent to: Barden Wilcox

You know, my dad was a quirky fellow. He collected scrap metal and melted them down into rings. Weird right? But not as weird as your dad. I mean, geez. Well at least he never ate them...He didn't, did he?

On another note, you're being blackmailed. I've found out about your bloody secret and now you have to do whatever I say or risk exposure. Of course you could always just call the cops, but withholding information from the law? Yeesh, that can get you some serious jail time.

So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to text you a place, an order and a target and you are going to do it within the time limit I give you or I'll tell everyone your dirty little secret.

With Love,

S.S
 
Esme sat in her apartment, her eyes reading over the message. She felt sick, and every time she looked at the message she could see Alice's blood on her hands. As if she had just committed the murder a few seconds ago. Tears filled her vision as she remembered the girl she had killed. Before that, she had ruined the girl's life. Esme should have known she couldn't keep this buried forever. That was impossible.

Taking a deep breath, she typed a simple reply to the heinous message. Tears fell down her face as she pressed send. She would do anything to keep her secret buried. Anything.

What do you want?
 
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Just how....? His worst nightmare, coming true. Barden could feel his heart-rate speeding up, he frantically looked around, but saw no one there. He forced his breathing to calm, but worry sped through his system. What if others found out? No, what if his father found out? He'd be dead. Unable to think of anything better to say, he quickly typed back.

"What do you want?" He couldn't imagine having to actually kill someone. He didn't want to become his father, but he didn't want anyone to find out about his secret, either.
 
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Charlie's hand twitched. Has her fanboys finally crossed the line?

She plugged her phone to her laptop and accessed it from there. In several minutes, she was able to plot most of the people in her address book and those who recently contacted her.

Octavian was at home.

She surveyed her phone dubiously. Some people from school knew her brother. What can she do about it? He was famous. She quickly located all of them that she could find in one time. She kept tabs on them anyway. When she was truly free, her habit was stalking her enemies.

Henry

The name was bringing her nerves to a slow boil. She couldn't track this "S.S." person. Charlie didn't give up, however. She's seen a lot on TV, surely there's a way to find this person.

Octavian's wife was at home too.

Her brows furrowed. Maybe it was her? That's it, round up all the people you know. Think of the suspects. Some classmates. Family friends, maybe. The hobbyists who came off as more creepy than friendly when talking to her, perhaps? No, too obvious. The smugness of the text obviously meant this person is several steps ahead...

Everyone's a suspect.

She looked at her reflection on the laptop screen. Maybe it's just me, and I just don't know it. Karma must have come already. She knew it would catch up with her. Faces came to mind, the crazed look in her mother's eyes. The cold disgust on her fathers'. The shock and anger of her uncle's.

Octavian.

It was an hour before she finally made up her mind and replied.

[BCOLOR=#808080]Deal.[/BCOLOR]

Don't show emotion. She told herself. The texter would use it as leverage. I used it as leverage.

Apparently, someone was giving her a dose of her own medicine. She realized it and she controlled her face to be blank, expecting to be watched. This was it; the event she was rearing for. The kind of person she lived wary of. An even match, maybe.

This S.S. was armed and ready while Charlie was handicapped, there's no way it was even. Not right now. Not yet.

She texted Octavian too.

[BCOLOR=#808080]your wife loves you. [/BCOLOR]

Charlie sent the message, hoping Octavian understood what she really meant. Stay away from me and stay safe.
 
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@kimsim12
Sent to: Esmerelda Acardi

Oh lovely, cooperation on the first try! You know the first batch before you was ridiculously stubborn. But never mind about that! Here's what I want you to do; You know that famous Wool Bridge radio talk show, Baa Baa Blah? Well, I want you to pose as a caller and when you're put on air, I want you to say these exact words: When Trisha comes back, you're screwed.

And then hang up! Simple, right?

Do this within the next two hours or face my wrath. Oh! And use a burner phone, we don't want you to get nabbed before your time!

With Love,
S.S



@firejay1
Sent to: Barden Wilcox

It's simple Bardy Baby!

First, I want you to go to the alley behind that abandoned warehouse on 28th street. There you will find a small cardboard box wedged under a dumpster. In that box you will find a medium size baggie of...Angel dust.

Next, I want you to apply to Wool Bridge High School, for the position of a janitor. Don't worry, I'm not making you quit your job or anything. This will just take one day. I want you to go online to the Wool Bridge's education site and submit an application for the janitorial position and wait for them to hire you (and they definitely will, I guarantee it).

Remember that baggie of angel dust? Bring it with you on your first day as a janitor. When school ends I want you to stay after hours and locate locker number 492. Use the master key to unlock it, place the baggie inside and leave.

Don't fret about the security cameras darling, that locker is situated in a blind spot. Oh and don't quit immediately, that'll look too suspicious.
Complete this task by tomorrow or I'll let everyone know about your daddy dearest.
S.S



@Mippu
Sent to: Charlie Klein

My, my, that took a lot longer than reasonable don't you think Henry?

But I suppose I'll forgive you for your tardiness on account of you agreeing to my terms so quickly. Now your first assignment should be more in your ballpark, literally. Go to the Zen Gym near the food court in the mall and sign up for the 3:00 yoga class. Then go to the hippie store in the mall and buy some freshly ground nutmeg and return to the class.

When the class starts, Taylor, the instructor will work everyone like a dog for about 45 minutes before announcing a break. When everyone, including Taylor, leaves, quickly put about three table spoons of nutmeg in Taylor's protein shake, then leave to enjoy your break. When class is about to resume pretend to get a call about a family emergency and leave.

Start this task today or your secret will be broadcast.

With Love,
S.S
 
Octavian couldn't breath.

Sharp pain raced across his back and his world fell out of focus. He could tell Rose calling out to him in worry, but his vision was swimming and the pain was excruciating. Octavian could barely hear her. He knew he was panicking and that pain was all in his mind, but for the life of him he didn't know what he should do. Then, a new a message brought him out of his shock.

[BCOLOR=#808080]your wife loves you. [/BCOLOR]

Octavian inhaled shakily and exhaled while closing his eyes. His wits were coming back and the pain was receding, but not quite yet. When he opened his icy blue eyes, Octavian knew the pain wasn't going to go away until who ever this was got what they wanted. Well, he had time. "Octi, are you okay?" Rose asked him, worry shining through her bright blue eyes.

He smiled shakily and brought her close, wincing when she hugged him tighter. "I'm fine." He told her. "Just some bad news at work, I was just shocked." Well, that was true. A few store owners who had similar products were arguing with each other and were bringing the administration to deal with their...opinions. Narrowing his eyes knowing she couldn't see, his icy blue eyes glared at the text that brought out his weakness. "I'll deal with it." He said. He will.

It seemed like Charlie was caught in something big too. She would have never say the obvious. That attracted Octavian to her in the first place. She was smart and she knew which buttons to push before some one would crumble. Charlie never used it on him, but he's watched it far too many times in their college years. This wasn't her. That much he knew and with just that, he could breathe.

If his enemy wasn't Charlie, he may have a chance.

He pulled away from his wife, kissing her softly on the forehead and smiled. "I need to leave early." he told her before moving away to grab his keys, ignoring how his hands shook as he took it. He didn't need a flashback. "Stay safe, Octi..." she whispered as he was leaving.

He turned around with a bright smile. "I will." he said, "Have fun with your yoga class." Rose smiled at him as he left the door. When the door shut, his smile disappeared and unlocked his car door. As he sat there, he unlocked his phone and navigated until the text was in view.

Whoever this was, they were privy to the secrets he kept hidden. That wouldn't do.

[BCOLOR=#808080]I'll play your games, just keep your end of the bargain.[/BCOLOR]

His eyes stayed narrowed as he sent the text. He'll play their games up to a certain point, then, he'll turn around and crush them. After all, that's what he was good at, being patient and grab every opportunity by the neck and crush every opponent that stands in his way. This was just a final snag at his true goal. He'll always come up on top. He has to.

Octavian smirked as his eyes drifted to road and easily navigated away from his garage to the streets and then passed his neighbourhood, moving towards the busier areas of the city.

Now, he sent Charlie a text.

[BCOLOR=#808080]Stop stating the obvious.[/BCOLOR]

It was up to her how she interpreted his message, but it was more than just "Message received and will do". Octavian looked down as his phone alerted him to a new text. Let the games begin.
 
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@Boss Megu
Sent to: Octavian Corell

Wonderful. Your task is quite simple, really. You won't even have to skip work!

At your meeting today, I want you to side with Mr. Overson over the other store owners. Allow him the rights to the product and threaten penalization to those who might try to sell their versions of the product anyway.

Do this today, or your secret will be sent straight to Big Daddy Tempus' email.

Good luck, Doc Oct
S.S
 
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Octavian entered the car park and brought it up to the top most floor of the parking lot, his tires screeching to a halt at his designated parking slot. Grabbing his backpack and attaché case, he opened his door and went out. He nodded at the roving guard assigned for the floor.

"Good morning, Sir Corell." David Wilcott, head of the guards, greeted him from his post at the administration side of the building. "Good morning, Mr. Wilcott, let's hope it's another boring day" he greeted. The ageing guard was one of the first staff he had hired the moment he took over. It was a good thing he inspires loyalty. Wilcott was one of the staff that will be forever on his side. Glancing back with a dark smirk, didn't help he took care of his gambling debts the moment the man took the job. He entered the elevator and keyed in the code for his floor. While he waited for it to bring him 2 more floors up, he read the text with cold eyes.

Mr. Oliver Overson, one of their more younger and brutal shop owners. Octavian was supposed to listen to all of them argue, with a few staff that were incompetent and award the rights to one Mrs. Lacey-Mae Lovely from Granny's Cures and More. Acne Cure was a fairly popular home made acne removal product for teens in Wool Bridge and he had made plans for Mrs. Lovely to expand to other Temper Malls. He's seen the product and yes, Overson's Odd Maladies version was better. It still didn't remove the fact that the original recipe was made by Mrs. Lovely.

Well, that was his decision until this little bird whispered in his ear. Rather, texted him his new plans.

"Sir Corell!" A high pitched voice greeted him the moment he stepped out of the elevators, ignoring the way the early personnel hastily stood up to greet him as well. "Anya, what's my schedule for today?" he asked as he nodded to the staff that murmured him a greeting. They were all intimidate of course, but equally loyal. That's what his staff was. Loyal.

Anya Volkova, one of his secretaries rushed forward, pulling out her smart phone and began to read to him his schedule. He had it memorized of course, but that didn't mean he didn't want a confirmation. He might have missed something. "Today's starts out with the product rights with Mrs. Lovely and Mr. Overson at 7, it's a half an hour away." She gave him a look. "We've compiled all evidences for Mrs. Lovely like you recommended, we can go ahead and --"

Octavian cut of her as he got up the stairs to his office that overlooked everyone and opened the door. "Revision, Anya." he told her as settled on his desk, turning on his computer and pulling out his laptop from his backpack. "We'll be handing Mr. Overson the rights." he added. He could tell that she was dumbstruck. She was used to odd jobs and last minute revisions and decisions, having been with since he was 24--fresh out of college at placed as a Site Director for one of the small business of Tempus in the area near their University.

"...may I ask why?" she called out as she fully entered his office. "We were dead set on handing it over to Mrs. Lovely as soon as the ..." here she paused to glare at the staff, knowing full well this was something they could have handled, "...staff brought it to us to deliberate." she concluded. "It is hers by right."

Octavian face her, his cold features turning on her. He knew what rights meant. Clenching his hands, but this wasn't his choice. "I see more potential with Mr. Overson's revise formula." he told her, the lie slipping off his lips as easy as breathing. After all, what was one more compared to the ones he's already said? "There have been more purchases in the last 3 months for his product than hers. The best is what we need to showcase at this week's video conference."

Anya's poker face did not waver and nodded in agreement. "Very well, the data shall be arranged." she said. Octavian smirked, knowing with less than 30 minutes before their meeting, she was panicking. "No need, Anya. I'll handle it. Simply revise the data to be presented this Friday." She nodded her agreement and gratitude. "I'll have it on your desk by noon." Octavian waved her away and she descended from his office.

He unlocked his phone and gave a reply.

[BCOLOR=#999999]It's done. The report should be out by the afternoon news.[/BCOLOR]

He gave a sigh as glanced at all the faces of the people he needed to listen to before he state the decision that was already pre-arranged. Octavian scoffed. There were winners.

Then, there were those who simply didn't win.
 
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Friday, June 12, 2015
Jones Residence
"Good morning Mommy!" Marie, happily running and jumping atop Naomi, exclaimed. Her bright blonde hair curling lightly and shining brightly in the sunlight. Her eyes were sparkling with the unadulterated smile of innocence. "Wake up wake up wake up!"

Naomi smiled, despite what other moms said, despite what Michael said, she loved mornings like this. Mornings that started with her beautiful daughter (with beautiful blonde hair that she could only silently miss) and her joy. She sat up in her bed, in her beautiful home, and put her arms around her daughter, hugging her tightly and not letting go. She couldn't help but focus for a minute on how happy she was. She needed to treasure these moments.

"Good morning sweetie," Naomi said, finally letting go of her now mildly annoyed daughter. She watched as her daughter got up and then sat down criss-cross across from her. "How has your morning been?"

As her daughter went into the story of her morning, speaking as one would expect an almost two year old to, Naomi um-hummed along as she climbed out of bed and walked into her bathroom to get ready for the day. Michael usually didn't take care of Marie in the mornings, but today he was not working until the night to work on the servers in their down peak time. So, while Michael had made Marie pancakes and let her taste a sip of the 'gross' coffee, she had slept in.

"Sweetie why don't you go finish your eggs?" Michael, having just appeared, asked their daughter with an amused grin. "You're not gonna like them cold."

"Michael, she can't get into her booster seat alone." Naomi said, giving Michael a warm smile before kissing him breifly. "If you get her I'll be out in a sec, I've gotto get changed."

"No you don't," Michael said, grabbing her hand lightly as she turned away. "It'll be fine, really."

"You know, I do," Naomi said. "Please?"

Michael smiled but rolled his eyes as if she was missing something fairly obvious. He raised his hands up in defeat and then picked up their daughter, "Okay, but you owe me."

Naomi smiled, getting changed then into her jeans and yellow floral top with no sleeves. She did her makeup and put her shoes on. When she finished she looked in the mirror, happy with how she looked. She looked forward to taking Marie to the park today, as Marie loved the park and it was a bright and beautiful day. She heard her phone buzz and expected it to be her friend, Rosalin, who was meeting her with her son at the park. When it wasn't she put her hand up to her mouth when she gasped, no, it's not possible!

"Michael!"
 
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Part One
[spoili]
Rolling her eyes in utter annoyance, Charlie put her phone down to check the defragmenting laptop. Taylor from the yoga class? She had no idea if Taylor was male or female, let alone allergic to nutmeg. It was such a messy scheme and it ticked Charlie off. She liked doing it cleanly, in a way people not involved never see it coming. What kind of plan is this?

But who's to say she wasn't doing it? She bit her lip in thought habitually as she sent a text to the laptop owners. As she let them know that there'll be a delay in their repairs, Charlie thought about S.S' message again. S.S. is smug and seems to think he or she has control of the situation. But how much control did he really have? Charlie had an idea, she was going to test S.S' range. Once Charlie can establish how much power S.S' really has, she can establish a weakness.

She can find S.S.

She looked at the message again, already obsessed with it. Family emergency? Everyone who knew her in Wool Bridge knew she had no family. Her tale is that she had a single mom who passed away and everyone bought it. With Octavian's help, they ironed out this story with a "Lucy Klein" at a cemetery in the next town and she visited it once or twice a year. She can't just lie about it like that, even to a yoga class she's never been in. And even that was an issue, she found yoga very boring and weird. She made fun of it once when she was drinking with some guys. Joining it for a day would seem so off. Perhaps this was part of S.S' challenge. Perhaps it was up to Charlie to decide how it's played out. Well, she intended to maximize the freedom.

Taylor and nutmeg. That's the objective. And 3pm yoga. First off, she'll call in instead of going there.

"Zen's Gym." Charlie knew who it was, John the Game of Thrones fan. This will be easy.

"Hey John, it's Charlie. I w-"

"Na-a-a- nope. You're not Charlie. That's not your name, redhead girl of Tristan's Toys." John replied whimsically.

Charlie stayed quiet. What in the world would John know about her real name? John is S.S.? It can't be. It was too early for S.S. to show up, unless this is a demonstration of his control.

"Come on, you know it. I know nothing." John begged. Charlie got even more confused ans suspicious. Why would he say he knows nothing after he claimed Charlie's name is fake? "What." Charlie replied with her guard up so high she sounded moody.

"Come on, Kissed By Fire. You know who you are."

Charlie put her phone away from her face, grunting in annoyance and partly relief. "It's Ygritte." she finally told him after recovering.

"Yay! Can't believe you called! Are you finally going to try yoga?"

"Yeah, I feel bad I shut you down and made fun of it the last time. I just find to be extremely...Kneeler."

"You'll have fun, I know you like a good challenge. Let me sign you up for the 11am class and-"

"Oh, I have to drop by my place first so sign me for Taylor's class. At 3, right? Because...I want to know if he's a man or a woman." Charlie didn't realize at once that she wasn't just thinking it.

"That's...don't let her hear you say that. She was a man before. Before Thailand happened."

"Damn, that's hot." she knew it would shut him up.

"Um, yeah. Okay. See you later, Ygritte!"

"You know nothing, John." Charlie replied. Yeah, you know nothing.

The door opened and Charlie expected her boss so she ignored it and went on with fixing the other laptop. She sighed at it, seeing the LED needed replacement and she had to inform her customer.

"The Abyss has finally done in that Vinicius de Costa bloke." Mr. Whitman said grumpily. A man in his late fourties with a distinct slouch and facial hair, he was practically the godfather of Wool Bridge's geek community, or that's what he thought himself to be. He was also known as Solomon Magnus or something of the sort when tabletop role-playing.

"Can I leave early today, Mr. Whitman?" Charlie asked bluntly.

"Huh. Why?"

"I have some...feminine issues I wanna see if I can solve with um, yoga." Charlie twirled her hair innocently. That's right, provide a reason no one wants to discuss. Match it with appropriate hesitation aaaaand...

"Yeah, well, fine. Can't do nothing about that." Mr. Whitman shrugged. "And you're here all the time. Go do what you havta." He said.

"Love you, Mr. Whitman." She said with a sweet-young-lass-smile as she got out.

Now for nutmeg. She dropped by her apartment, looked in her cupboard and took some ground nutmeg she had left from the time she learned from a friend that it made good poison in the right doses. She's never tested that yet. Perhaps this was it.
[/spoili]

Part Two
[spoili]
Yoga was indeed very difficult. It was the concentration part that ruined her, always affecting her balance in ways she didn't even think it would. But if the woman in front of her could do it and looked spectacular, Charlie should be able to pull it off too.

But seriously, Rosette Tempus-Corell looked stunning doing yoga.

"You're new, hi." Octavian's wife greeted during their break. "I think I do see you in the mall from time to time or I won't think you look familiar."

"I dunno, some people say I look like some chick from Game of Thrones." Charlie was quite amused by Rosette. She was gorgeous in a maiden-like way.

"I don't think I know that." She smiled awkwardly.

"Then what a breath of fresh air you are, ma'am. I'm Charlie." Charlie held out a hand for her to shake. She looked at it uncertainly and shook it with a pleasant smile. "It's Rose if you will."

Before Charlie could say anything, Rosette was ushered along by her yoga friends and they talked about Vinicius de Costa. This was quite convenient as Charlie slipped away to the lockers.

Luckily, Taylor was on the phone by the doorway, busy texting. She saw Charlie enter and she waved. Charlie smiled and made her way to the rows of lockers and out of Taylor's sight.

Yuck, protein shake. Charlie thought as she pulled a hairpin from her shirt and attempted to pick the padlock that shut Taylor's things away. To her surprise, there were no drink containers in the locker. That's right, Charlie thought. It would be somewhere she'd reach easily on breaks.

She shut the locker and went back to the gym, thinking of a distraction. Ah, John's no longer front desk duty. Plus, she found a sports bottle which was personalized with Taylor's name printed in large purple letters.

She found her distraction. She pulled out her phone and called the front desk, asking to speak with Taylor. Sure enough, the front desk lady called Taylor to the phone.

Charlie asked about rates and schedules with a distorted accent (with a feigned hearing problem too) in a wispy voice as she slipped the contents of a small ice candy casing into the bottle. Three tablespoons nutmeg. Done.

She put everything back into place, still rambling about yoga for beginners and its safety with Taylor as she went back to the lockers and wrapped a jacket around her waist. "I'll think about coming yes. Okay now goodbye."

She put the phone down and let the phase two of her tale begin.

Taylor saw her by the benches and by then, Charlie had opted for a troubled look. "How's your first class?"

"I thought it'll help with irregular bleeding." Charlie said, sounding worried.

"In time, it could." Taylor assured her. "Along with good diet."

"I'm so sorry, Taylor, I can't continue, it really hurts and I think I leaked. Oh my gosh." Charlie said, adding a nervous leg bouncing to her overall look.

"Oh, no, not at all honey. I think the girls might have something to help." Taylor said, motioning to leave and get someone.

"Oh, no. No, please. It's kind of embarrassing. I'll try this again sometime." Charlie stood up, hanging her bag on one shoulder and gripping the handle, squeezing it from time to time. "I'm really sorry."

"That's alright, go on home. Use the employee entrance so you don't have to explain yourself." Taylor said with a warm smile and a pat on the arm.

When Charlie got home, she put her face on a pillow and laughed. She played them all! Her boss, John from Zen Gym, Rosette Corell...maybe even S.S. With that thought, she felt something in the pit of her stomach.

Fear.

What if S.S. didn't approve? But then again, what would he do?

What Charlie would do to her own victims is to take something they value. A person, a feeling, a thing. Anything important.

What if S.S would take Octavian?

[BCOLOR=#808080]Done.[/BCOLOR]

She hoped S.S wasn't as omniscient as he seemed, because she will never give up Octavian.
[/spoili]
 
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Esmerelda sighed in relief at the message. This wouldn't be two hard, right? It was probably just a harmless prank. In fact, this whole thing was probably just to put her on edge. This person probably didn't even have real proof that she had killed Alice. Still, she wasn't going to take any chances. Grabbing her purse and keys, she headed for Tempus Mall. She knew they sold no-contract phones at one of the kiosks. This would be easy.

As she drove to the mall, however, she couldn't help but feel a heightened level of anxiety. She'd already gone twenty minutes into the two hours. She wasn't sure how, but she had. Esme hadn't even reached the mall!

"Stop worrying," she told herself, though it didn't do much to relieve the anxious feeling that was creeping into her mind. The mall was in sight, and she couldn't help but release a squeal of inward joy. She was going to make it! All she had to do was the buy the phone and make the call. She could easily have that done in the next two hours!

*

Esme sped her way through the mall, pushing through the crowded areas without even apologizing. The kiosk was in sight, and there was a man in his early thirties standing by it. Good, she could easily get this done without questions. Besides, she wasn't doing anything illegal. Right?

"I'll take your cheapest prepaid phone," she said quite suddenly, causing the man to jump a little. His eyes shot over her body, and she shuddered slightly at the smile that curved his lips. He wasn't that old but damn did that smile look creepy.

"Up to something illegal are we?" he asked, chuckling at his own joke. Esme couldn't even force a laugh or a smile. In fact, the remark only caused her hands to shake. He was too enthralled in her low top and short skirt to notice, however. The transaction took far too long; it seemed he was determined to make it that way. Finally, the man handed her the box containing the phone.

"Thank you," Esme replied hastily, turning on her heel and walking away. She ignored the phone number that he had written on the back, tearing the box open and turning on the phone. Her breath hitched as it made no indication that it was working. C'mon you stupid thing. Finally, the company's logo flashed across the screen. She looked around in fear, even though she was sure no one was watching.

She would wait until she got to her car. It would be stupid to risk someone overhearing her. As soon as she made it to her car, she turned on the radio and flipped through the channels. A female's chipper voice came through, announcing the chance to win a trip to Florida if someone correctly answered some question. As soon as the phone number was called out, Esme typed it in and pressed call. Somehow, someway...the woman answered her call instead of someone else's.

"You're on the air, caller! Are you ready for the question?"

Esme took a breath, fooling herself into believing that her statement would not cause any sort of harm. "When Trisha comes back, you're screwed." She hung up immediately but left the radio on. There was nothing. The host said nothing.

A few minutes later, music started playing. Esme had a feeling that no one was going to hear that chipper voice again...at least not for a while. Taking out her actual phone, she typed a simple message to the mysterious S.S.

It's done you little bitch.
 
Elizabeth's Apartment

Elizabeth Ryder was still awake when her alarm began beeping. Taking it from her night dresser, she threw it across the room. With a loud thud it hit the wall and the noise stopped. She turned over, tired and exhausted from a night spent arguing on an internet forum. The cold light of her laptop screen was the only thing that lit her dark room. She was still signed into the forum. Her last post was two hours ago, stating that large metal deposits in abandoned mines could severely damage the environment and the local ecosystem. From the larger problems such as dissemination into ground water, to the smaller concerns like how large enough metal deposits could potentially affect magnetoception of birds during their seasonal flights, or of honeybees possibly causing disastrous effects on the local flora. Even hikers could get lost in the hills surrounding Wool Bridge if the iron deposits messed around with their compasses. Not that she was an ecologist. She was a chemist, or biologist. Though right now she was just tired.

Wearily she closed the laptop lid, with a flicker the last light went from the room. Slow and steadily Elizabeth rose out of bed. The first thing on her list was the small packet of blue pills that sat on her night dresser. You'd think that she knew better; being a university student studying biochemistry. Next year she planned to major in chemistry. Almost out of a force of habit Elizabeth took two of the tiny tablets, each a 40mg dose. She kept the little box with her when she left the bedroom and went out into the living room. It was small, as expected of a cheap apartment in the city, with an adjoining kitchen. A sofa, an armchair, a TV and a window that looked out to the grey city of Wool Bridge. It was a simple apartment.

Glass. Sink. Water. She filled a glass up and began gulping it down. She often found herself feeling dry, never more so than after taking the tablets. Already they were beginning to take effect. She felt better, almost buzzed. Elizabeth needed something to feel good about, even if it came in the form of a small, blue pill.

Going back to her bedroom, she opened the tiny wardrobe and plucked out a simple attire. She had long since stopped caring about the way that she looked. After throwing her clothes on she took her bag, placing the box of tablets into the front compartment. They weren't adderall or some other prescribed drug. They were illegal amphetamines that she had bought from the only person at university who she knew.

Elizabeth made for the door. She was already late and had to study for her exam on Monday. It was the last one of the season and she desperately needed to pass. Just the day before she had missed a chance at extra credit when she didn't turn up to a lecture at Wool Bridge Community College. She was supposed to give the lecture to a philosophy class, trying to teach them to apply scientific principles and research methods to the way that they structured their arguments and debates. She had given such lectures before though and the students rarely listened. She wasn't going to be down marked for missing the lecture, was she? It wasn't the first one that she had missed either.

Elizabeth had chosen not to eat breakfast that morning, rarely having much of an appetite anyway. She left her apartment via the only door. Closing the door behind her, she was ready to begin the long descent down the four flights of stairs. Then her phone vibrated, she heard it buzzing from inside of her bag. In all honesty she had forgotten that is was in there and was completely baffled by who would be calling her. Elizabeth had no friends and the last of her family was in England. Surely her dealer would not be so stupid as to openly call her. She felt a small panic coming on. No doubt this call could be traced. Her left eye twitched. She felt a feint pain in her chest.

She pulled the phone out and swiped the screen. It was a text but the number had been withheld. At first glance it seemed to be some kind of spam messaging and Elizabeth thought that she had seen its type before. She allowed herself to relax. Then Elizabeth noticed that it was addressed to her. Upon reading it she froze, still at the top the stairs. This had to be a prank of some kind. But she knew that it was not a joke. Someone knew. How did they know? The pain in her chest was returning.
 
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3:50 PM

@Boss Megu
Sent to: Octavian Correll

Oh I knew you wouldn't let me down Doc Oct!

Stand by for now, Octi baby and treat yourself to something nice, you've done well.

With Love,
S.S


@HelloBeautifulChild
Sent to: Naomi Jones

You know, Helen, I've never liked the government. I was never a fan of their Big Brother persona and the whole shitting on the lower class. And that's why what I'm doing right now is just so much fun.

In other words, You're being blackmailed. I've found out about your hellish secret and now you have to do whatever I say or risk exposure of your location to the Hell's Angels. Of course you could always just run crying to those lovely government officials for help, but still, your location would have already been revealed to the Hell's Angels and...You know I really wonder what they'd do if they got their hands on your precious Marie?

So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to text you a place, an order and a target and you are going to do it within the time limit I give you or I'll tell everyone your dirty little secret.

With Love,
S.S


@Mippu
Sent to: Charlie Klein

You're a good woman Charlie Klein. Now that you've completed your first task for me, you should relax and work your 9 to 5 or go to the spa! Do whatever, you deserve a little treat.

We'll chat later,
S.S


@kimsim12
Sent to: Esmerelda Acardi

Ooh, I love your fire, Esme!

And loved the heart and soul you put into that message. Have you ever thought about becoming a radio talk show host yourself? I'm sure you'd love it. I heard there were a lot of your flavor at Fleece and Release radio station. You should check it out, girlfriend!

Anyway, you did good Big E, why don't you give yourself a round of applause and a pat on the back?

Talk to you later,
S.S


@Jack Ethan Doyle
Sent to: Elizabeth Ryder

Hey, Speedy!

I always thought the Hangover was a seriously exaggerated show. But then I found out about your situation, and whoo--If they ever catch you and base a movie off of your beautiful crime of paranoia, I would definitely watch it.

So here's the deal, you're being blackmailed. I've found out about your dope secret and now you have to do whatever I say or risk exposure. Of course you could always just ignore me or call the police, but think about it, what does 1 drug addict + 1 Murdered Roommate + A shit load of cops equal? I think you know the answer.

So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to text you a place, an order and a target and you are going to do it within the time limit I give you or I'll tell everyone your dirty little secret.

With Love,
S.S
 
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Elizabeth could feel her chest tightening up. The pain was becoming too much. Who?! She had never told anyone about it and left no evidence behind. She had been sure to douse the body with bleach. Even her apartment had been swept clean of all evidence, going so far as to burn any documents that suggested she ever lived there. No one could possibly know. But someone did know. Not only that but they were blackmailing her with that knowledge. They were also armed with the knowledge of her drug use, which only her dealer knew about. However he knew nothing about her roommate or what she had done. Her chest was on fire, head pulsing with an ache that kept growing and a heavy tiredness washed over her body.
Beginning to feel feint, Elizabeth dropped her bag. The sound of it hitting the floor snapped her back to her senses. The late-teenage girl looked down at her phone, noticing that her hands were shaking. With trembling fingers she pressed the reply button and began typing out a message:
"What ever it is you want me to do, I'll do it. Just please don't tell anyone."
She picked up her bag and opened the door again. Elizabeth had decided that university could wait until after this whole thing was over. Though she doubted that it would be. These types people once they knew that they could get you to do something, would always keep using you for their own amusement. She could not risk exposure though so she just had to do as she was told for now. Until she found out who it was.
Already Elizabeth was feeling tired when she had made it back to her bedroom. Just reading that text had drained her. She reached into the bag, pulling out a the box of pills.
"This won't be enough," she said before throwing the box and her phone onto the bed. "It's the weekend anyway." She needed a more immediate response anyway.
Elizabeth roamed went to the night dresser and picked up a clear bag filled with white powder. Eating amphetamine often lasted longer but snorting it was faster and better. With practised hands she poured some out on to the night dresser and began arranging it into lines. Next she took up the straw that also sat on her night dresser.
"I need to think clearer anyway", she commented to no one but herself. "Here goes."
Using the straw she began to inhale the trail of white powder. After finishing the line Elizabeth stopped, sniffled and allowed herself to breath. Her arm came up to wipe away any dust that had gotten on her nose. With that she stepped back from the night dresser. Aiming for the bed she flopped down and bounced on the worn mattress. Tired, so very tired.
Then the phet started kicking. Her limbs became less heavy, her mind more focused. She sat up on the bed and took hold of her phone. Quickly she began typing out another message:
"What do you want?"Send. What ever he wanted her to do, how much worse could it be?
She pocketed the phone into her skinny jeans, walked around the room to pick up her bag and left. Elizabeth set out to university a second time. She was determine to arrive there on this attempt.
 
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Michael ran into the room quickly, the gun they kept in their kitchen in his hands and ready to fire. When he came in he found his wife sitting on the bed, eyes covered in tears and body clearly panicked. He lowered his gun upon seeing her and wondered what was wrong. Putting the safety back on her put the gun at the end of the bed before sitting next to her and wrapping an arm around her to see the text.
You know, Helen, I've never liked the government. I was never a fan of their Big Brother persona and the whole shitting on the lower class. And that's why what I'm doing right now is just so much fun.

In other words, You're being blackmailed. I've found out about your hellish secret and now you have to do whatever I say or risk exposure of your location to the Hell's Angels. Of course you could always just run crying to those lovely government officials for help, but still, your location would have already been revealed to the Hell's Angels and...You know I really wonder what they'd do if they got their hands on your precious Marie?

So here's how it's going to go down. I'm going to text you a place, an order and a target and you are going to do it within the time limit I give you or I'll tell everyone your dirty little secret.

With Love,
S.S
Michael's jaw clenched angry, protective, scared. He'd never really known the angry or violent part of himself until this whole mess with Hel- Naomi started. When he saw her at the hospital and she joked, her eyes crying, about the fact that they had to amputate her left hand. Now it was something he worked every day to control. How dare this person threaten Marie, who did that? What kind of monster were they dealing with.

"We'll have to tell the marshalls," He said. "We've been compromised-"

"We can't," Naomi said, wiping her eyes. "Naomi isn't even 2 yet, we can't change her name- imagine trying to explain to a little girl why she has to bleach her hair every day."

Michael sighed, looking at is blonde (but once dark black) hair. She was right, of course, they couldn't do that to Marie. Could they kill someone though? This was their daughter, they would do anything for her. He nodded to her, it was a clear communication to reply.

She put her phone back into her hands and replied:

You threaten my daughter?

Michael took the phone away then, "Naomi!" He exclaimed, "Sweetie, we have to do what he says and not piss him off." Naomi only glared and handed him the phone, her eyes watering and breaking free into full on tears. He hugged her tighter as he replied to S. S.

This is Michael, we'll do what you say, but we're doing it together, and you will not dare touch our daughter.
 
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