Final answers.

Rick is already pissed by the time he comes home that night. It's late, and he had a date with one of his bitches, took the time to arrange for the rug-rats to stay over at another bitch's house. But, although it was fun to beat shit out of the silly little cunt, he can't stop thinking about that guy Aden, and the lunch. He's turned Tony on the guy, but after they looked around, they told him they couldn't find the guy. It's like he's invisible. So he told them to teach Anne a lesson about talking out of turn, and they sure did that, even sent him a really juicy text with a picture of her, broken and bloody, laying on the floor of her apartment. But it's just not enough. He wants to see Aden squirm, to see him bleed and beg for mercy. That thought, that's good, makes him almost hard thinking about his fists slamming into that smug scarred up face. Unlocking his front door, he yawns, tossing his keys onto the table and stepping toward the living room. As he passes the kitchen, lightning fires through his whole body as Aden steps up silently from his side, pressing a taser into Rick's neck. Rick goes limp, limbs flailing weakly. Aden pops duct tape over Rick's mouth, strap cuffs over his wrists and ankles, a black cloth hood over his head. By the time Rick is able to move, Aden has already injected him with a fast-acting sedative. Blackness takes Rick away somewhere cold and dark.

He wakes up confused and sore. He's strapped to a padded seat of some kind, his hands cuffed, his legs chained down to something heavy. The hood catches his frightened breaths, making his face hot. The tape is gone, so he tests the waters. "Hello?" he calls out, hoping someone will hear him.

Someone does. He hears a car door open, feels the seat rock, and then someone pulls the hood off with a sharp tug. The light is bright, sharp, making him blink, his eyes tearing up from the sudden sting of the lights. For a moment, he's totally dis-oriented, then he realizes he's in his own car. It's parked inside some sort of shipping container, the engine running. His hands are cuffed so the chain runs through the steering wheel, both his feet chained with thick black iron chains. He's strapped back into his seat tightly enough he can't really move more than an inch or so. When he looks up, in the rear-view mirror, he sees Aden sitting in the back seat, his face almost skull-like.

"My friends will fucking kill you!" Rick yells, trying to sound tough and intimidating. His voice cracks, though, fear leaching through.

"Your friends are already dead." Aden's voice and face make it perfectly obvious he's telling the truth. He reaches down onto the seat next to him, and Rick hears something metallic being moved around. There's a squeaking noise, something Rick feels like he should recognize. Aden looks back up and Rick, catching his eyes in the mirror. "I'm going to ask you some questions. If I think you're lying to me, I'm going to make you hurt in ways you've never imagined." He reaches up and drops something small and warm onto Rick's shoulder. With a gasp of revulsion, Rick realizes it's a large rat; it begins feeling its way around the edges of his shirt already, and he tries to thrash, to get it off, but he's too tightly confined to do much more than wriggle in place.

"It's a sewer rat," Aden says, sounding almost bored. I have ten of them in this cage. And none of them have been fed in quite a while." Aden pauses, watches the horror and fear in Rick's eyes. "You can imagine what they would do if they were locked in this car with you, and no other food."

"You can't do this!" Rick starts, voice going higher and higher as the full weight of what is happening hits him.

"Can." Aden smiles now, the expression somehow demonic. "Already have." His eyes are dead. "They like to go for the soft tissues first. Lips, ears, eyes, balls."

"What do you want? I'll do it, I'll do it!" Rick can feel the rat plucking at the edge of his shirt with its' paws, seeking a way into his clothes. It's making little snuffling noises, sniffing at him, hesitant. He almost screams in terror as whickers brush his earlobe.

"Do you have any letters, files, or evidence laid aside about Lazlo's time at the club?"

"No, no," Rick moans, fighting against the straps, then screaming suddenly as the rat, hungry and ****, finally figures out he can't stop it from chewing on his ear. "Please, get it off, get it off!"

"Do you have any **** evidence or anything you could use to hurt Anne again?"

"No, for Christ's sake, no!" Rick screams again, yanking his head from side to side, trying to avoid the rat's teeth. Blood is trickling down onto his neck, and the rat's sniffing around for other targets. A sharp biting pain in the side of his neck causes hi to begin crying and thrashing even harder.

"Where are your kids?"

"With one of my bitches, they're safe, they're okay, pleasepleaseplease..." Rick is weeping openly. "I promise, I swear to God, I don't have anything, I won't do anything-"

"No, you won't," Aden says. He gets out of the car, then opens the rat cage and leaves it in the back seat. Before he closes the door of the car, he looks at Rick one last time. "Goodbye, Rick." As he walks away, exiting the shipping container, he can see the car shaking back and forth, Rick screaming for help as the rats begin searching for their next meal. Closing and locking the container door, he walks away to the waiting rental car. The container is in the back of an abandoned junk yard; it will be months or even years before anybody might come out here. He's put a suitcase full of Rick's clothes in the trunk, so in a few days, when the woman who has Anne's kids reports Rick missing, it will look like he fled the area. The police may connect the shootings at the Temple Hill with Rick's disappearence, but Aden doubts anyone will find the body, what's left of it, for a very long time. He may have made this situation, but now he's fixed it as much as he can. He's not satisfied, but the monster is, at least temporarily, content.