HELLS GRACE

Part 9

Oracle quickly changed the screen to a bedroom from an apartment building a block away.

It looked like a college student's bedroom, and I was looking through his laptop’s camera. The boy was a couple of years older than me with bleach blonde hair cropped short and wearing a faded black Green Day shirt, editing some drone footage he got of Portland the night prior; the drone sat beside the laptop.

I was growing impatient about when this boy would leave his room. Finally, he grabbed a towel from his closet and left the room to shower. Lights flickered, and the drone suddenly whirred to life. It was a metallic black and heavy-duty looking thing that must have cost quite a fortune, which Oracle swiftly showed me that the college boy had purchased it for almost two-and-a-half grand on Amazon (thanks to his wealthy parents, I guessed). Blades that could rotate faster and propel the aircraft to greater speed. Once completely controlled, Oracle slowly flew out of the open window, heading straight for the office building.

We hovered several feet above the balcony garden.

I tried to catch up with the four minutes of audio from inside the office, but all I heard was silence and someone writing on a piece of paper. With my visuals restored, I saw Coach Hodge and Melanie through the glass windows, sitting on these big red lounge chairs across from a man in a suit signing a document. Well, multiple copies, it looked like. There was a stack of folders on his desk.

“Ah. A silent treatment,” The demon interjected. “He is making them uneasy, my lord.”

I looked over to Coach Hodge, who was already shifting uncomfortably, clearing his throat a little too loudly, but the other man paused before resuming what he was doing. I couldn’t get a better look at the documents he was working on from my angle. Fortunately, none of them have noticed the drone. Thank God the drone's owner had invested money into making these drones as quiet as possible.

After a minute, the other man finally put his pen down and faced the Hodges. “We could use some fresh air, don’t we?” he said. He swiveled his big office chair around and stood up, heading straight for the glass windows I was watching from, which turned out to be sliding doors. I ordered Oracle to fly a little higher out of their sight.

From there, I got a good look at the man. He was younger than I imagined. For being a leader of the Cult of Astaroth, he could be no more than forty. He was clean-shaven, sported a slick back, dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and wore a midnight blue suit that complimented his fair and handsome features. He led the Hodges to the gardens, marching toward a small platform with tables, a bar, and glass railings overlooking the darkening park below.

Allie came out with three steaming cups of tea and placed them on the glass table before she promptly left.

“Sit, sit. Make yourselves comfortable,” the man said. He took a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, flicked the cap, lit the cigarette, and sucked the air in from the bud. “Go on. I’m listening,” he said, puffing out a misty trail of smoke from between his lips. A curious glance danced behind the veil, intently studying the Hodges across the table. I didn’t know if he intended to kill them or something much worse. I wished he wouldn’t do the latter. That’s my job.

“You know why we’re here, Jonas,” Melanie said.

“I know. But do you have it with you?”

Melanie shot Hodge a concerned look. “Well…not exactly. We failed with the summoning.”

The man—Jonas—blew out another puff. “It doesn’t sound like you’re sure. Where’s the gem?”

“It's on—”

“We don’t know,” Melanie interrupted and glanced at her husband to stop talking.

Interesting. I realized they were trying to save their spines. If they told this Jonas guy where Maxine was right away, maybe showed him the pinned location I sent them this morning, then there was no reason for Jonas to keep them both alive. Smart.

Jonas paused. “You…don’t know?”

“Yes. We had it. And then we—”

“—Lost it?” Jonas chuckled. “You lost the gem?”

Coach Hodge gulped visibly. “One of our members stole it.”

Jonas barked a laugh. “Stolen, you say? By your people? When you called this morning, I thought you’re here to bring some good news for once. The Seat loaned you that gem four months ago, Justin, and you promised that it would work—that you would make it work—but now you claim that you don’t have it with you?”

“Look, we performed the ritual two days ago down to the letter and blood, but we thought we blew it when we didn’t feel the Ways. You’d do the same thing if you were in our shoes!” Coach Hodge said.

“Two days ago? Did you intend to keep your failure from us for much longer if it hadn’t been stolen? And now you come crawling back to me for what? Reinforcements? You let your underling get the better of you, and now you want mymen? Are you here to wrangle an assassin from under me? Let them clean up your mess?”

“But she killed multiple people!” Melanie intervened. “She killed other members of our sect and her neighbors.”

“Who is this woman who outwitted the two of you?”

“Maxine Fairlie.”

“Maxine?” Jonas scoffed. “Maxine, with those cringy online workout videos and the stupid essential oils? That is the woman who has the gem?”

“Besides my husband, she is one of the few who can channel infernal magic, Jonas. Not even I am skilled with it. Isn’t that why you sent her to us? To help us?”

“Maxine can barely light a cauldron on fire, Mel. If she is as powerful as you two think, we would have made her sect leader instead of your husband, and we would not have placed her in your sect. New Orleans has been begging for a sorcerer; we could have sent her there instead. Though you may be gifted in the Ways, Mr. Hodge, it does not make you wise or astute. It fans your arrogance, which I barely tolerate already.”

Coach Hodge swallowed his pride. He was not used to being talked this way. “I know, I know.” Melanie shot him another look, but this time, of disappointment that her husband caved under the pressure.

“What did you make us do, Jonas? What did you let us summon?” Melanie asked.

“I told you four months ago. Power. Pure power. Coveted more than plutonium. More valuable than gold. Isn’t that what you two wanted? To make your sect the envy of this continent?”

Melanie bit her bottom lip. “But what is the ritual? What does it do? Is that why Maxine is strong? Why can’t we locate her with normal scrying magic? She’s using the gem’s power?”

Suddenly, Jonas’s smile dropped. “When did you say she had the gem?”

“Two days ago,” Mel answered hesitantly.

“Two days…exactly? Down to the minute? It wasn’t stolen yesterday or this morning? What is the exact time frame?”

“Does it matter?” Coach Hodge asked.

“Of course it fucking matters, Hodge! When?”

“After the ritual, we handed it over to one of our members, and they brought it to their house. A few hours later, Maxine had it and threatened us with blackmail. She also dug up the boy’s body.”

Once Melanie mentioned the latter, Jonas flinched. “This house. Did you ever stop by it?”

“One of our members, Rebecca, is a cop. She went inside the house.”

“Did she say anything about the place?”

Melanie nodded. “She called me once to tell me that she didn’t like how the house made her feel just by looking at it. I mean, it was understandable. Our friends were murdered inside, so I gave it a passing thought.”

“If multiple people have been to that house, then it is no longer there,” Jonas muttered. “Dread is still working, however. Interesting.” He leaned closer. “And what does the gem look like after you perform the ritual?”

Mel turned to her husband. “I wasn’t there…”

“Nothing,” Coach Hodge said. “It didn’t light up like the other rituals we usually perform. No evidence of the Ways. That’s why we thought it was a dud.”

Jonas’s face paled. He smashed the cigarette bud on the chair’s armrest, snuffing out the flame. “You fool,” he seethed. “It worked.”

“What?”

“The ritual…it worked. I can’t…I can’t believe it. Imagine that?”

“The ritual?”

“Of course! A gem, a murder house, and bodies piling up a few hours later? Classic dungeon!”

Both the Hodges stayed quiet.

“You know, I never believed you’d be able to do it all these years, Hodge, but you proved me wrong. A football coach in some nowhere town managed to do what no other being could replicate in the universe. And. You. Had. It. In. Your. Hands.”

Coach Hodge’s face danced with emotions. He didn’t know whether to smile at the compliment or keep them at bay. But Jonas was not done talking.

“…And then you motherfuckers lost the gem. Do you have any idea what you carried with you? It was a Death Core, you imbeciles!”

Coach Hodge and Melanie looked at each other dumbfounded. They had no idea what I was. “A…what now?”

“A Death Core! Fuck! This planet is filled with half-witted people! Years of preparations! Years of meticulous planning! Found a baby—,” he pointed at Coach Hodge, “—who can barely graze the System. Found a region that is susceptible to a dungeon’s creation. We have the ingredients, and you motherfuckers threw it away? I should have you whipped right here, right now, for your incompetence! You let it slip off your fingers, you motherfuckers!” With every outburst, Melanie and Coach Hodge shrank into their seat.

“Look, man! You didn’t tell us anything about any of that!” Coach Hodge exclaimed.

“If you knew, it wouldn’t have worked, you idiot! That’s the recipe! A controlled accident that we tailored so this—what’s going on now—does not happen! You’re supposed to bend it to your will! Bend it for our lord’s cause! And you fucked it up! You didn’t even finish the ritual, didn’t you?”

Coach Hodge gulped again. “We finished it.”

“Liar. If you had finished the ritual, the Core wouldn’t be murdering people. You’d have it in your pocket, it wouldn’t be stolen, and you’d give it to me. No, He will not be pleased.”

“What’s a Death Core, Jonas?” Melanie asked, trying to regain some of her courage.

“Maxine did not kill your sect’s members or her neighbors, Mel. It was the Core. How did they die?”

“Um, stabbed to death. Cameras in one of the houses saw her attacking a couple of the teenagers next door. It wasn’t…pretty.”

She is the one attacking?”

“Yes.”

Jonas paused and started muttering to himself. “Could be a double. Doppelgänger archetype? It could be an illusion. Could be a possession. Demonic? Maybe. An abomination, perhaps? It didn’t show any other traits. Damn, he's learning fast.”

“Uh, traits? Who’s he?”

“Did it do anything else? Did Maxine sprout wings, tentacles, or claws, or something?”

“No! Rebecca let us see the footage, but we saw none of that. Wait…should she be doing that?”

“If you can’t find her, then she’s someplace else. Did you say how many people died?”

“There were eight dead during the massacre. One survived.”

Jonas sighed. “That's enough to reform a dungeon somewhere else. Two days is a long time to kill more people.”

“We haven’t heard any massacres or killings after she disappeared, Jonas,” Coach Hodge said.

“None that you know. A Death Core can hide these things. A week from now, maybe two, the bodies will turn up, and then we have no chance of getting it back into our control once it grows in power. We must nip this in the bud while he is still an infant.”

“H-how do we do that?” Melanie asked.

“Find Maxine and get me back my gem.”

But, of course, they already knew where she was. Yet, they refused to tell him. “She couldn’t have gotten far. She must still be in town if she’s threatening us with it. We can find her.”

“Hm. If the Core hasn’t left the area yet, then that means he has a grudge against you.”

“Why us?” Melanie asked.

Jonas scoffed, amused. “Why do you think? You murdered him.” Jonas then clicked something underneath the armrest. A few seconds later, Allie, the assistant, walked out of the office and marched across the balcony. “Allie, the guests are leaving.”

Something clicked in Melanie’s head, and she stood up. “You mean Mark Castle—the kid we sacrificed—is this Death Core?”

“Of course,” he said. “The first cry he made when he was born was when our lord felt his soul’s potential. So, we nurtured him like a sapling, and when it was time to pick the fruits of our labor, you lot tainted the soil.”

“If he is as powerful as you say, how do we get him back under our control?” Melanie asked.

“Did you say one survived the massacre?”

“Yeah. One of the teenagers,” Coach Hodge said. “I know her. Tessa Burton. She’s a good girl.”

Jonas nodded. “ Once you find his dungeon, bring this Tessa Burton there.”

“And then what?”

“She is your insurance. That way, you won’t be killed when you step inside the dungeon. He has a grudge, remember? Perform a chained rite. That will buy you some time before his dungeon's influence affects you.”

“You keep saying dungeon.”

“Because it is that. And oh, please be careful,” Jonas added. “He already fed on eight essences. You may not understand what that is, but it feeds his power. We don’t know how many he’s had since then.”

“But do we get some backup? We know you have mercs stationed in this city, Jonas. Can’t we have one of the squads? We’ll take even the smallest team if you can spare it,” Melanie begged.

“Once you find the gem, you will tell us where it is. Then, we will send our men. But this has to happen tonight. Do not wait for tomorrow. Another day is another chance for this Core to grow in power, understand?”

The Hodges nodded, and Allie gestured for them to follow her out the door.

“And remember, don’t come back another disappointment, Hodge. We’ve invested a lot of time in your future within the Society. Do not waste this chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of our lord.”

Coach Hodge gulped and nodded. He and Mel followed Allie out of the office, walking back to the elevator on the other side of the building. Once they were inside and said their goodbyes to Allie at the reception hall, Coach Hodge whispered an incantation.

> JUSTIN HODGE IS CASTING A SPELL, MY LORD.

“What spell?” I asked. Hopefully, it wasn’t against me.

> DIVINATION. I WILL TRY TO COUNTER…

> DONE. ELECTRONICS ARE NOT AFFECTED.

“Wait, what did he cast?”

“Anti-scrying,” the demon said. “He didn’t want anyone in the building spying on them.” She pointed at Hodge, looking directly at the camera fixed on the elevator’s corner. “Oh, the poor thing doesn’t know he can’t counter a machine archetype with this great distance and with such pithy magic.”

“How so?”

“If we were a normal monster born naturally in this world and reality, it would have worked. A small sliver of the Ways will make us run away and lick our wounds for days. But we were dungeon-created. We go by different rules.”

Once Coach Hodge was confident no one was listening (except us), he dropped his facade and slapped Melanie across the face. Melanie dared not move. She stood frozen, bubbling anger seeping through her grimacing lips, and she stared daggers back at her husband.

“You will not interrupt me in front of Jonas again,” Coach Hodge seethed. “We know where she is—”

“—And we will be dead,” she finished. “Do you think Jonas will let us leave when we tell him that Maxine’s galavanting in the fucking woods near town? He will have no use of us. Instead of Allie walking through that door, it would be men with guns. Your shields cannot stop more than a dozen bullets all at once, Hodge.”

“He needed me. Since I was a baby, they know I am important. They won’t dare harm me. I mean, you heard Jonas!”

“Oh, darling, you can’t be that stupid.”

Coach Hodge narrowed his gaze and raised the back of his hand. “You don’t talk to—”

“Hit me again, and I will cut you by the balls. I may not be capable of magic, Justin, but don’t forget I can still take down a man by other means. I made you sect leader, remember? Me. Not Jonas. Not the Seat. Do you think you’re the only golden child in their arsenal?”

Hodge bit his tongue.

“Of course not! Don’t forget the piling bodies I left behind just for you to stand on your high horse and show your dick to everyone else—an equal to the old men and women who can’t even light a match with their thought. You have actual magic. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Jonas and the others are just jealous of the gifts that Astaroth had given to you and not them. They’re probably more than happy that Maxine’s out of the picture! That’s less competition for them, anyway. Another member with the gift gone from their chess board.”

“And from ours?”

“Exactly. As you said, Maxine wants your position. I am the one who gave you freedom, and I will not let that bitch or this Core take that away. Without me, you will still be in this building, groveling under Jonas’s boot like the other special babies they keep, caged and under lock and key.” Melanie stood on her tippy-toes and gave Hodge a passionate kiss. “We will retrieve this gem. We will not let Justin take the credit for our success and will hand the gem to The Seat ourselves. Maybe for once, a leader with a true arcane gift will stand closer to The Seat than Jonas and the other charlatans will.”

“But we don’t have soldiers.”

“We can still use Jonas’s. But we will cut them loose once we are done with them.”

“You want me to betray Jonas?”

Melanie smiled. “And The Seat will love you for it, babe. Maybe our lord, too. He loves violence, remember? It isn’t alien to him for his followers to fight to the death for his love.” The elevator dinged as it reached the lobby. “Now, let’s get out of this fucking city. We’re losing light.”

I scoffed. There was no way in hell I would let them have soldiers backing their skin once they’re in my dungeon. No fucking way. I won’t let them have an easy way out and become a survivor. Picturing myself rewarding them sent chills down my body.

No more waiting around for this one. I am going to cut the head of the snake.

I ordered Oracle to return to the drone still flying above the garden.

Jonas was still finishing his cup of tea in deep thought while Allie stood at the side. It was a shame I couldn’t cast [ Glean ] on him and read his thoughts. Suddenly, he snorted, chuckling to himself.

“You can go home for the night, Allie. I’ll see you here on Wednesday,” Jonas said.

“Wednesday, sir?”

“Yeah. I have a business trip planned. Last minute.”

Allie was about to grab the empty mug on the table, but Jonas raised his hand to stop her. She bowed her head and walked out of the office.

Once he was sure he was alone, Jonas stood up and grabbed the empty mug with an iron grip. Swinging his arm wide, he threw the mug toward the brick wall across the garden, shattering it into pieces. Frustrated, he walked toward the glass railing and lit another cigarette. He fished out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. I told Oracle to listen in to the conversation.

> AUDIO NOT AVAILABLE.

“What do you mean it’s not available?” I asked.

> SIGNAL BLOCKED. I CANNOT LISTEN TO THE CALL.

“You mean magic?”

> YES.

Damn it. “But can you trace where he is calling to?”

> YES. SATELLITES ARE NOT BLOCKED.

“Do it.”

> LOCATING…

> LOCATING…

> FOUND.

> CANNOT DETERMINE ACCURATE LOCATION. FOUND GENERAL AREA: MAYFAIR, LONDON, UK.

> WARNING: AREA OUT OF BOUNDS. I HAVE NO SIGHT OF THE REGION. PLEASE UPGRADE MY ALL-SEEING TRAIT TO INCREASE THE DISTANCE.

Since it's almost six o’clock in the evening, it must be nearly two in the morning in London. Even though I could not hear through the phone, I could tell Jonas was sent to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me,” he said. “Listen, it worked. Point Hope managed to do it, but there’s a slight problem. It’s alive. I’m going to charter a plane to go to you. Call me when you are able.” Jonas dropped the call and put the phone back in his suit’s hidden pocket.

He finished the cigarette, stumping it out with the soles of his shoes. He gave the city another morose glance, soaking in the sights of the Columbia River under the waning light. With a sigh, he strolled toward the sliding door, pulling out his phone again to check if the person he was calling in London got back to him. All he saw was a black screen. No calls yet.

I doubted he’d hear back from them anyway. “Oracle, do it.”

In an instant, the automatic sliding doors slid shut with breakneck speed. Jonas barely had time to get out of the way, but it was too late. With a loud yelp, he swung his arms forward, trying to block the momentum, metal upon skin hitting with a loud crunch, and Jonas was pinned halfway between the doors. A hundred pounds of force straining against his spine.

“Allie! Allie!” He screamed, but his assistant was long gone. Five minutes ago, I watched her take one of the elevators down to the lobby.

Wedging his arms, he pushed back against the doors, leaving enough gap to move his upper body in, but still pinned his right leg.

The drone flew closer to his eye level, and Jonas, the man who ordered my death, turned around and met my lens.

“Hello, hello,” I said.

This was the man who started it. The man who killed me, albeit indirectly. The one who ordered Hodge and his cultists to kidnap me and so many others. I am going to turn the tables on him.

The drone flew forward, blades eating flesh, and Jonas screeched. The sudden force knocked the drone back to the ground, half of the lens covered in blood. Jonas reeled his leg through the gap, torn flesh hitched onto the metal mortise locks and deepening the gash even more. Once freed, Jonas stumbled to his desk, blood seeping from his wounds and staining the carpet floor.

“What the fuck!” He cried out, muffled under the GoPro’s audio attached to the drone.

Fortunately, the drone was still functional, and it hovered several feet away from the now-closed sliding doors, glaring at the injured man behind it. Jonas struggled to get up and limped toward the door, leaving a blood trail.

Jonas pulled the handle. Locked. He tried again, but it was no use. The door was made like it could handle the force of half a dozen men. A security thing to protect the person inside. It was not meant to keep them in. Since the door required a magnetic keycard, it was easy for Oracle to lock Jonas inside the office.

Jonas went for his hidden pocket again, only to find that his phone was not there. A strobing light from the drone drew his attention. Oracle flew the aircraft lower to the ground…close to the phone, which fell out of Jonas’s grip when the sliding doors pinned him.

I smiled when I saw Jonas’s face drop. He wouldn’t be able to call for help. Even when he pressed the hidden button underneath his desk multiple times, Oracle had already cut off the signal, manipulating the electrical currents to a light bulb in a random bathroom stall on the 9th floor, flickering maddeningly. In the lobby, the security guys had no idea what was happening; The buzzer never sounded.

Jonas panicked, limping toward one of the bookshelves, and reached for the bust of an old, mustached man. Turning its head to the left, a hidden door masquerading as a bookshelf slid near it, revealing an elevator.

An emergency exit.

> SHALL I TRAP HIM INSIDE THE OFFICE?

“No. He can get in the elevator.”

The doors slid open. Jonas practically jumped in, probably afraid that the sliding doors behind him would open suddenly and the drone would attack. Luckily, there was a camera inside. He quickly pressed the ground floor and close button from the panel, and the doors slid closed.

Jonas breathed a sigh of relief.

I smiled. “Stop the elevator between the 14th and 15th floor,” I ordered Oracle.

As the elevator descended, it stopped with a shudder at what I told Oracle to do. Jonas flinched, looking around as to why he stopped moving. He pressed all the buttons, but none of the panels worked.

“Open the elevator door. Then open only the 15th floor, Oracle.”

Oracle did as asked.

Jonas froze. He was afraid to move. It could be a trick, peering through the small gap to the 15th floor to see if anyone was waiting behind the door to attack him. Smart. I made the lights flicker as if they were dying, and the panel’s digital screen kept scrolling from 1 to 30 even though the elevator was not moving—anything to spur Jonas to move.

“Oracle, unlatch one of the breaks for a split second.”

The elevator violently shuddered; a rattling groan echoed through the metal box. Cables from above snapped taut and traveled down, singing danger. Jonas gasped and hurried forward. He tried to open the door to the 14th so he could hop off, but that was no fun for me. His only way out was through the 15th floor.

Take the bait.

Take the bait.

Take the fucking bait.

I kept saying it like a mantra inside my head.

Cursing under his breath, Jonas stood up and reached for the gap. My smile broadened. Even with the wounded leg, he widened the gap and lifted himself halfway through the door.

Then, I went for the jugular.

“Pin him.”

Oracle closed the elevator door, pinning Jonas between the torso right where I wanted him.

“Help! Help!” He shouted, but both floors were devoid of people, and no one was there to save him. His lower half dangled inside the elevator, his legs trying to get a foothold to push himself through. Nothing. I watched him struggle through the camera in front of the elevator on the 15th floor.

Jonas smacked his palm against the elevator door and shouted, “Aperta!”

I could feel the arcane energy sweeping through Oracle's circuits from a hundred miles away. The door slid open momentarily, and he managed to wiggle out an inch before the door slammed on his body, pinning him again.

I let out a heavy breath. For a moment there, I thought he was going to escape. Melanie was telling the truth. These cult leaders were weak with magic. It seemed they didn’t want one gifted like Hodge (even though he was an asshole) to rule over them. Greed and ambition had clouded their minds, which I could use to my advantage in the future. The Cult of Astaroth on Earth might be easier to extinguish than I initially thought when its members were distracted by inner power struggles rather than growing their abilities.

“Turn on the elevator’s speakers,” I ordered.

The speaker system crackled to life. Jonas winced, which meant it worked, and he could hear me. “Hello, Jonas,” I said. “This is Mark Castle.”

His eyes widened.

“Before you die, I want you to know it was me.”

“Wait!” He hollered. “Wait! You—you don’t want to kill me. My essence! You won’t be able to collect it. You’re still in Point Hope, are you? That means your borders haven’t reached Portland yet. Not this early. Do you know how much my essence is worth? I am one of the leaders of the Cult of Astaroth. You will not feed for days, maybe weeks, with my essence. If you kill me right here, I will be wasted. You don’t want that, right?”

“Seems like you know more about me.”

“I’ve studied your kind for years. It’s all I know.” He smiled. “I can help you, you know. I can help you become a better dungeon on Earth. Make you glorious and revered. You don’t have to kill me.”

This man who sought to control me. This man who coveted my Core for his gain. This man who reeked with lies. I want nothing to do with him. I just wanted him out of the picture.

“Tempting,” I said. “But right now, I don’t give a fuck.”

The elevator whirred back to life and started ascending, carrying Jonas with it.

“No, no! I can help! Please! I can help!”

His words meant nothing to me. I just wanted to see the blood gush out of his flesh. He strained against the force, trying to claw his way out, nails splitting under the metal, forming gashes along its surface. His legs now touched the elevator floor, and he kicked and kicked, but the doors prevented him from gaining an inch through.

He reached the top and produced the sweetest scream I had ever heard. Flesh pressed against metal, bones cracked under the pressure, and the metal box labored to ascend and close the gap even with an obstacle along the way. The machine shuddered violently, the cables pulling and pulling with all its strength. Blood poured out of Jonas’s lips. With each pressure building on his abdomen and lower spine, cutting off the nerves to his lower legs (which stopped kicking), it pressed his organs aside and popped, lungs pushing against his ribcage, making him struggle to breathe. He could barely scream for help.

By the sixth second of pure torment, the elevator dropped half a foot lower for a split second, then pulled hard upward. Groaning machinery screamed to be free, and Jonas’s upper body ripped out from the force and fell limply onto the 15th floor.

Even with his lower half missing, Jonas was alive for two agonizing minutes.

I watched the blood pour out of the stump. His spine and hip were so badly mangled that I didn’t know which was flesh and bone—watched him struggle to stay alive. He was staring at the camera now from the corner. He knew that it was where I was watching him. He probably realized I managed to create an archetype that could control machinery even from afar.

He stopped breathing, eyes glazed over.

Looking through the blueprints, he was on an emergency corridor of the building, the kind that no one bothered to go, only checked by maintenance guys once a month. But such staff were overworked and underpaid, and the last maintenance check of the building was fifty days ago. No one would find Jonas’s body for quite a while.

I closed the secret cabinet from his office and turned on the Roomba from the corner with an installed cleaning solution to remove the spots on the carpet stained with blood. It wouldn’t do a perfect job, but it would eliminate most of the evidence.

I set my eyes back to Point Hope.

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