Screaming like a banshee

The knife stopped just a few inches before making contact with my chest.

Then... Another knock. This time... louder.

Although, at that point... My heart was beating so fast I could barely register any noise other than that.

And another knock. And another. And another.

It was quite insistent.

Even Reagan was starting to get annoyed now.

All that I wanted to do was shout "Help" so loud that my lungs gave out... But with that knife stationed so close to my chest... It was a miracle I could even breathe.

The only thing either of us could do was just wait... Wait for the knocking to end, and the person behind the door to leave... And me to accept my inevitable... ****...

although... when I could finally focus on anything else but the knife in front of me... it made less and less sense to me that somebody would knock on that door.

It had no lock on it. It was something I had been meaning to install for a while now, but I always kept forgetting.

I very slowly turned my head towards the door.

I see.

Reagan had barricaded the thing with one of the heavy BDSM-desks.

Nobody would have enough strength to open that door now.

She had really thought this thing out, hadn't she? She must've done it while I was blacked out.

She was insanely... professional... about this whole **** thing...

But... the knocking didn't end.

After a minute... It began to feel a bit... insane?

Insane? Wait... Could that mean...

"Jack! Jack! Are you there? It's me! Teresa!"

...

Fuck.

Not her.

All I needed right now was another crazy person after me.

But... Then again... her insane need to see me...

Maybe it was the miracle I desperately needed?

"JACK! Are you there! Please! Answer me! You have to be there! You haven't answered any of my messages for the last hour! I asked around, everybody says you came into work today! But you're not on any other floor, I checked them all out! And the security guards haven't seen you leaving the building! Please! Answer me! Are you there?! You have to be there! That's the only place you could be! Are you hurt? Do you need help, Jack? Please! Fuck! Say somethings! JAAACKKK!!!"

And then... the knocking just became louder.

Like a kid was throwing a tantrum against it, punching and kicking the door with all their strengths. Trying to open the door like their lives depended on it.

Reagan sighed, and slowly withdrew the knife.

She whispered. "Well then. Looks like we're going to have to wait a bit. But... Remember this. If you try uttering one fucking syllable through that gag... You die instantly. Understood?"

I nodded furiously.

And then...

We just waited.

The shouting and the kicking did not stop.

Teresa sounded like she was losing her mind. Literally.

It was like a non-stop orchestra of crying, banging and screaming. And calling out my name.

It was exhausting. Even to us.

I mean... Right now, she was the only thing keeping me alive... Yet a big part of me couldn't bare listening to her whaling anymore.

She seemed to be dead convinced that this was the only room I could possibly be in.

Reagan was staring at her phone's clock nervously.

Yeah... I guess it's not fun to wait around when you're assassinating someone... each minute your chance for a slippery escape diminished more and more.

I had time to think too.

Conclusion: In this situation, with this gag over my mouth...

There was literally nothing I could do.

I was completely at the mercy of fate.

Which seemed to hate me with a passion these days.

There was one good thing about us being in the basement... It meant that Reagan had only one way out. And with Teresa currently blocking the only exit... She couldn't escape this situation either.

Right now, there were only two possible ways this could end... First, Teresa makes such a racket that eventually somebody comes to investigate as well. And once there are multiple people standing behind that door, trying to open it... Reagan has to make a choice. Either go to jail for ****, or let me live. ...And I wasn't still sure she would choose option B.

And the second choice... was that Teresa would just give up, and leave. In which case there was nothing stopping Reagan from killing me.

...There was a third possible way this could play out, but... It would end up with my **** as well. And... Reagan could do it right now... but thank God she hadn't yet figured out that-

"Hey, wait a minute..." Reagan said all of a sudden. "She said her name was... Teresa, right?"

Oh no. No no no....

"Yeah, she did, didn't she? Wasn't she in here..."

She began scrolling through the app. I could feel blood draining from my face again.

But there was no escape.

Reagan began reading out loud, but in a quiet voice...

"...The subject will become obsessively interested in the user... Almost to a level of lunacy. The subject will not know why, but will rationalize this for themselves... They will eventually want to prove their devotion to the user in the most **** ways, but not by **** or self-harm... The subject will also become extremely jealous... blaa blaa..."

She looked down, towards me, with a crooked smile.

"So... This lunatic thing she's doing right now... It's a trait, right? So... If you were to... die right now... She'd return back to sanity... and stop banging that door... And leave? Am I correct?"

She was once again brandishing the knife in her hand, looking like a toddler about a open a birthday present.

This bitch didn't even notice that you could deactivate the traits from the app itself. No need for my ****.

But I doubt pointing that out would have made any difference. She wanted to kill me.

I could see it in her eyes.

The decision was made.

The game had lasted a long time...

I had done so many unforgettable things...

Filled so many of my dreams...

But I guess... There's a limit to everything, right?

These last few weeks... They were too much fun for one man to have in his lifetime.

I had racked up too many debts.

And it was time to pay.

I like to believe... I reached an odd moment of serenity for the last few moments of my life.

As I withdrew my final breath...

All I could think about... Was...

I got to fuck so many asses, pussies and mouths. So many. And dominate arrogant bitches like nobody's business.

I didn't fulfill all my dreams, but I could die semi-happy at least.

And now... I was ready to-

"Jack! JACK! I called 911! Just hang in there! Somebody will come rescue you soon! I will stay right here until they arrive! JUST HANG ON!!"

...

I carefully opened my eyes.

Reagan couldn't hide her irritation.

She spun the knife in her hands a few times... Clearly contemplating several things... But eventually, she had **** but to holster it again.

The game had just changed again.

It wouldn't help anymore if Teresa regained her sanity. Other people were on their way now.

Other people, who would definitely find a dead body. Or at least see huge puddle of blood in the location Reagan stabbed me.

She lowered her head into her glorious bosom... And seemed to furiously think about her next move.

Finally... She looked a little frightened as well.

After about a half a minute... Although who am I kidding, each minute felt like a lifetime, it was really hard to keep track of time... But eventually, Reagan seemed to reach some sort of a conclusion.

She jumped off the table, grabbed me by my collar, and began dragging me across the floor.

She took me to the closet... The one she had apparently been hiding in... And unceremoniously pushed me in.

She kneeled down, look deep into my eyes... and gave me a serious look. "Looks like I have to let her in. Here's the thing, though. You make one sound... She dies. You both die. Instantly. Do you understand?"

I nodded quickly again.

"...Based on all the background information I have about you... There's nothing to suggest you'd let an innocent person die. You might be a world class narcissist... But perhaps you have limits? Perhaps even you wouldn't drag another innocent person to grave with you? I don't know. Either way... Warning her would not help you one bit. I mean, I just read her trait to you. She cannot be violent, no matter what. Warning her would only doom both of you. So you really, really shouldn't do it. Understood?"

I nodded.

Could she... really? Kill Teresa?

"Besides... I've had time to think for the last past ten minutes. I'm over my initial anger. ...I'm going to give you a chance. Prove yourself to me. If you can be quiet while I talk to her... I'll consider letting you go. I'll destroy the app by completely destroying your phone. Apparently that removes the user agreement as well, and returns everything to normal. Then... You'll move to a faraway country... Well, we can discuss the details later. But only if you prove yourself to me. Right now."

I nodded furiously again.

Reagan nodded as well, and slowly closed the closet door.

...Would she... Kill Teresa?

An innocent person? Just to kill me?

...I didn't know enough about her to sufficiently answer that question...

All I knew that she had just given me a lifeline.

There was a really, really high possibility she was lying. Right now, the only thing she cared about was keeping me quiet. She would have promised me the moon to keep me quiet.

...But...

...There was a better option available...

REAGAN

I think I sounded fairly convincing.

Hope he bought it.

I would kill him the instant I got rid of Teresa.

There was nothing in the app about all the effects returning to normal, if I destroyed the phone. That was a complete lie.

It only mentioned that the user's **** would fix everything.

So that's what I would do.

I never considered myself an assassin... But during my time in the middle-east... Well, a person can find themselves doing things they never in a million lifetimes thought they would. And I was just too good at it.

I would have never met Maria if it wasn't for that.

But this app... This fucking app... It made less than zero sense to me.

Unless I was living in the most elaborate candid camera ever, I had **** but to believe that this was all real.

A small part of me wanted to study this thing, bring to proper authorities... But... A much bigger part of me felt like this was the most evil thing ever invented, and I needed to get rid of it. Fast. People more capable than Jack would **** it no end. Reshape the world to their will. I mean, could you imagine if Maria had an app like this? ...No, this "thing" needed to be fucking disintegrated from the universe.

There was a very high chance that other people had this thing as well, according to some of the text in the software... But that was only an assumption. And it made even less sense to me. Surely somebody would have reported on it? Or somebody else would have been caught using it?

...Was I just trying to find an excuse to kill Jack? From wherever he had gotten this thing... It was obvious somebody else had made it. Destroying this one would not eradicate the whole thing from existence.

...

...Fine then.

I would dedicate my life to scoping out people who seemed unnaturally dominant in their lives. And if they had the app...

I'd kill them all.

One by one.

...

Maybe this was my purpose in life.

Maybe everything I had experienced had lead me to this point.

Maybe I was meant to do this.

...

As long as I got to start with Jack. He had already forfeited his right to live.

Especially after all the things I witnessed him doing all week.

I briefly considered just snapping his neck or **** him to ****. But... There was a chance that could be messy as well. Drool, blood, fighting... And also, it's an unfortunate thing, but there's always the possibility of a body relieving its bowels after ****. And that kind of smell... I couldn't hide that.

No. The best option was to leave the fucker alive, and dangle a chance for survival in front of his self-serving face.

And killing him should be a fairly swift operation after Teresa was dealt with. I knew he had that compromising video on me from a week ago... But following him around... it became very clear the fucker didn't have any friends who would send that video to Maria in case something bad happened to him, even though he tried claiming that. And if he had ordered one of his slaves to do it... Well, that order would vanish the moment he died and his control was relinquished.

Okay, there was a slight chance he had set up a dead man's switch that would send the video to Maria in case he died... But from everything I knew about him now... He was very likely too lazy or incompetent to do something like that. It was a good enough chance to take.

Oh yeah, the door. The insane banging was starting to give me a headache.

I pushed the heavy table aside.

Teresa's next power punch against the door finally opened it up.

Damn near slammed me against the face.

She was shocked by that as well.

The pale woman looked uncomfortably frazzled. Her blonde afro was a mess, make-up had ran down her face like she was crying... So much so that her tight, white bolero top was riddled by dark stains.

"W-wh.... What? Jack? Where? Who?"

The shaken-up woman could only recite one-word questions.

"Please leave," I told her in my most serious tone. "There is no-one named Jack here."

For her next move... She took a good, confused look of the basement and all the deranged BDSM-paraphernalia that was littering it.

"What the... What the fuck?" she exclaimed.

Okay, good. Now I knew.

I hadn't known whether she was familiar about this room's furnishings or not.

Obviously she wasn't. I had planned a story for both possibilities.

I sighed, trying to sound frustrated. "This room is going to be hosting a private, very elite gathering tonight. If you will not leave this door, I'm going to have to call the cops."

"I... I... What, why here? I..."

"What does that matter? It's completely legal. The host owns this whole building."

"I... Okay... But... Sorry, but..."

"And please inform the 911 people that your call was a mistake. I'm sure they have better things to do. As do I. Goodbye."

I was about to slam the door in her face-

But she stopped it.

She had managed to stuck her foot in the door.

I stared into her face with **** annoyance.

"That's it. I'm calling the cops in the next five seconds." I said, trying to sound as indignant as possible.

But she wasn't looking back at me.

She was looking down.

At my high heels.

At the little red splotch that was at the end of it.

The red bloodstain that I got after delivering that heavy wake-up kick on Jack.

Damn.

Okay. Calm down Reagan. There's nothing that unusual about a red stain on a shoe. Explain it to her.

"What, this? That's just paint that I-"

And then...

Before I could finish...

She kicked me so hard in the stomach I flew at least five feet, my ass landing hard against the granite floor.

While I was still trying to catch my breath, she jumped on top of me screaming like a banshee.

What the fuck is this!? I thought she couldn't be violent?!?