four

  [9 september 2019]=-=[monday]=-=(1439)

  Stefan Jourgensen, age 15, has everything going for him. He's popur in high school, his parents are rich, and he's in a pce where tech bros are liable to get more and better girls than even football pyers. And he's taken after his dad in that regard. He's the mythical #0001 in the Accession app that recently sold for 800 million, and he's working on a killer app of his own, a social media aggregator that will revolutionize the game once it's complete. He’s also a straight-A student, and he’s been on the honor roll for five years and counting.

  As for girls, yes, he has one, a cheerleader who happens to be the daughter of an old money family that keeps going these days by running what will eventually come to be called a "vulture capital" firm - buying up companies in distress, stripping them for parts, then letting the remains fall into bankruptcy and liquidation. She loves him, he loves her, and they're pnning to marry as soon as they both get out of high school. Nothing can possibly go wrong in his life in his eyes.

  That's what he believes, anyway. Unfortunately, he's got two major fws in his perfect life and self - he's sheltered, and he's na?ve. His parents have mostly tried to shield him from the way the world works, especially since they lost Liz, his little sister, to a drunk driver.

  "Stefan!" a girl calls out to him from a distance. "Wait up!"

  "Huh? Tiff?" Stefan asks. "What are you doing here? I thought you had cheerleading practice!"

  "I do, but I wanted to see you first," Tiff says as she runs up and gives him a kiss on the cheek. "How are you holding up?"

  "I'm okay..." Stefan says, obviously sounding not okay. "I was just half expecting to hear Liz come up like that, she would have been a freshman this year..."

  Tiff reaches over and gives Stefan a hug. "Stefan, it's okay to mourn, you were so close your whole lives from the sound of it."

  "We really were..." he says with a sigh. "I miss her."

  "I understand," Tiff lies. She really doesn't. She's an only child, so she doesn't know what it would be like to lose a sibling, especially one that she'd practically be joined at the hip with. "I'll always be there if you want to talk."

  "I appreciate that, babe," Stefan says with a weak smile. "I really do. I can't really talk with my folks about this... Dad dived hard into his coding work and he doesn't even want to acknowledge that Liz existed so he doesn't have to face his pain. Mom has some secret project going on that she won't let any of us in on. She's the type that will go to extremes for a cause."

  "It sounds like you're the only one approaching this in a remotely healthy manner," Tiff says. "They're both going to have to grieve at some point. It's not healthy for them not to."

  Stefan sighs. "I'm not going to hold my breath."

  Tiff frowns for a second. "I've got to get to practice. Remember, don't try to bottle things up. Let it out if you need to, even if it's only to yourself. Love you!" She runs off to the gymnasium to get to her practice session. She may have gotten on the squad due to her family connections, but she's going to have to actually work to keep the spot. Cheerleading is just as strenuous an activity as football or basketball, after all.

  Stefan shakes his head a little bit as Tiff runs to the gym. He wants to take her advice, but it's hard to right now. Liz's funeral was only held the prior month. They haven't even moved into their new house yet. It's almost done, as far as he's aware. He heads to the front of the school to be picked up by his parents' driver.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [15 september 2019]=-=[sunday]=-=(0924)

  Tiff is getting ready for church. Her family is old-fashioned in that way, devout Pentecostals. Real fire-and-brimstone types. She doesn't really believe that stuff as strongly as her parents, but she pys along to keep things peaceful. They were already disappointed at her becoming a cheerleader until they realized it would be good for her future prospects. Their hope was that she'd attract the eye of the child of some other old money family, get married off, and be a good subservient wife while they get access to another fortune.

  Really old-fashioned stuff. Of course, she messed it up. She had to fall in love with that tech bro's kid. He probably believed in liberal concepts like women's rights to their own bodily autonomy and the like, in her parents' view.

  They've threatened her a few times with being cut off from the family fortune, but she hasn't wavered. She doesn't care about the money or status; she's lived with both since she was a child, and it hasn't been good for her. She just knows that Stefan will treat her right and that if he can get this new app of his off the ground, he can make enough money for them to live comfortably for the rest of their days. She doesn't want to be rich; she just wants to be comfortable.

  She gets into her Sunday best, and there's a knock on the door just as she's getting her shoes on. "Yes?" She knows it's one of her parents, and she knows she can't just ignore them, as much as she'd like to.

  It turns out to be her dad, Jason. "Ah, Princess. Good to see you're all dressed up for church."

  "Wouldn't miss it for the world," Tiff says, feigning excitement. She would much rather be doing anything else, like a normal girl would at this time of day.

  "That's a good attitude to have," Jason says. "You don't want to burn in Hell, right?"

  "No, Father," Tiff says, still pying the part of the obedient child.

  "Right answer," Jason says. "Have you come to your senses and broken it off with that boy yet?"

  "No, Father," Tiff says, mustering up as much sternness in her voice as she dares. "I love him, and nothing you say is going to change that."

  "You know he'll never be one of us, right?" Jason says. "He's not cut from the same cloth as us. His family doesn't even attend church!"

  "How do you know he doesn't, Father? They might just attend a different one around here," Tiff says. "Not everybody has to believe like y-we believe."

  "That pesky First Amendment," Jason says with a sigh. "Sweetie, that boy is bound for Hell, and if you continue this delusion of being in a retionship with him, you'll be heading there as well. I just want what's best for you."

  Tiff doesn't answer. He's aching for a verbal fight, and she just doesn't have the energy to give it to him.

  "Now, come along, Tiffany," Jason says. "We should really be getting to church. The pastor is going to talk about the importance of girls obeying their fathers and husbands." He's obviously not going to drop this.

  "Yes, Father," Tiff sighs as she gets up and heads for the door.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [12 january 2024]=-=[friday]=-=(1659)

  Danni knocks a rge bowl of potato sad down onto the clean floor. "Again."

  Morgan leans down, bending at the waist, to clean the mess Danni just made. She tries to do it quickly, but thoroughly. She's wearing a maid's uniform, or rather, the fetish equivalent of one. Her backside and panties are completely visible as she bends - just the way that perverted bastard that's buying her likes it.

  The two are using the downstairs kitchen and mess hall for Morgan's maid training. So far, she's started to learn how to be a competent cook. There's plenty of time to get that from "competent" to "good." Now, they're working on her cleaning time. She already responds very quickly, and in the proper manner. Her actual cleaning could be quicker, though - which would mean less time for that pervert to get a view.

  It takes her two minutes, eighteen seconds to clean up the spill. She starts breathing heavily.

  "Speak," Danni says.

  "Mistress, how much longer do I have to train at this? It's just cleaning..." Morgan says. She isn't on the drugs right now, so she's acting more like a petunt teenager than an obedient child.

  "Your buyer is expecting you to function as a maid," Danni says. "That means you need to be able to clean, and do it quickly, and without compint."

  Morgan gulps. That emphasis is enough to get her back in line.

  Danni knocks down a pan of very hot macaroni and cheese. "Again."

  Morgan sighs. Fuck, she thinks, as she grabs a fresh towel and bends over again… this is going to hurt...

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [16 october 2019]=-=[wednesday]=-=(1447)

  Stefan steps out of css and makes his way toward the front exit of the building, so he can head to his family’s car. As usual, the driver waits right outside the front entrance for him. He hasn’t seen Tiff today, which is odd. Maybe she’s sick. She’s usually always at school, though, especially on cheerleading practice days.

  He steps out of the school and walks over to the car. As the driver opens the door for him, he gets a text on his phone from Tiff’s number.“meet me at the mall at 4, food court”

  Stefan hmms as he reads the text. It’s definitely her number, and she does tend to text like this. “Rick, can we head to the mall?” he asks the driver.

  “Sorry, Stefan, orders are orders, I’m to take you straight home,” Rick says as he walks forward to the driver’s door. “Your parents want you home for family night.”

  “Damn,” Stefan says with a sigh. He really wants to know why Tiff wasn’t at school today. He’ll have to sneak out when he gets home. Fortunately, the mall is only an hour’s walk from his family’s new compound. It’ll mean disobeying his parents, of course, but that’s never stopped him before. He’s always been an adventurous and headstrong kid, despite his schostic exploits.

  As soon as he gets home, he gets out of the car and heads up to his room. It’s a mix of smart kid and delinquent motifs, with posters of things like the electromagnetic spectrum and the periodic table mixed with punk band posters from guitar magazines. His computer is in the corner, it’s a high end gaming rig. It’s more than capable of running bleeding edge software, or swiftly compiling code. It’s also set up for video chats. There’s also a guitar along the wall – he does py, though he’s no virtuoso. Most of his time is spent on the computer and engrossed in his studies, leaving little time to get really good with his music.

  Just as he is about to try to leave, however, there’s a knock on his door. “Yes?”

  “Come on, champ, time for family night,” Gary’s voice says through the door.

  “Damn it…” Stefan says under his breath. “I need to change first…”

  “Don’t take too long, your Mom and I have lots of pns for us tonight…” Gary says.

  “I’m not going to make it. Parents,” Stefan texts back to Tiff.

  “awww,” Tiff replies. “maybe tomorrow then?”

  “Yeah,” Stefan replies. “You okay? You never miss school like that.”

  “not really,” Tiff texts back. “cramps.”

  Stefan responds with a hug emoji. “Feel better.”

  “thanks,” comes Tiff’s reply.

  As Stefan changes out of his school uniform and into his normal band t-shirt and cargo pants, he thinks it’s a little curious. Tiff missed school, but wanted him to go to the mall and meet her? And she’s one of those types of people that like to text in shorthand. She must really be out of sorts.

  Then again, girls can have rough cycles sometimes, he learned in health css. So, it might not be that unusual.

  He decides in the end that he’s worrying about nothing and opens his door, to begrudgingly join his parents for family night.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [17 october 2019]=-=[thursday]=-=(1121)

  Tiff returned to school the next day, and she ran into Stefan on the way to one of her csses. “Oh, hey,” Tiff says.

  Stefan gives her a hug. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling the greatest. I hope you don’t end up too far behind with your cheerleading.”

  “...I’m feeling fine, I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday but everything’s all good,” Tiff says. “Why do you think something’s wrong with me?”

  “You texted me yesterday, remember?” Stefan asks. He grabs his phone and shows Tiff what was texted.

  “...That’s my number, but I don’t remember texting any of this,” Tiff says, concerned. “And I wouldn’t step foot within ten feet of the mall here, it’s so gross and dead.”

  “Maybe someone spoofed your number,” Stefan says.

  “Maybe some computer club girl is trying to steal you from me,” Tiff says, a little concerned.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve only got eyes for you, babe,” Stefan says as he kisses her on the cheek. “You might want to check your phone for malware though.”

  “Yeah… maybe I’ll just get a new one, there’s a new iPhone that just released st month,” Tiff says with a nod.

  “Ewwww, Apple,” Stefan teases. “I love my Android.”

  “We’ll have to just agree to disagree on that one, I prefer my phone to just work,” Tiff says in a mockingly derisive tone. “I’m not the one who uses their phone for coding.”

  “That coding is going to get us both independent enough to live without our parents’ money,” Stefan says. Like Tiff, he’s a bit resentful at his parents for holding money over his head, though so far they haven’t threatened to cut him off. No, they just use it to keep him virtually prisoner, overly sheltered while not as school. If they could get away with wrapping him in bubble wrap, they probably would.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [12 january 2024]=-=[friday]=-=(1904)

  Danni has taken Morgan to another room; this one being attached to the armory. “Alright,” she begins, “your job is to inflict as many lethal wounds on these dummies with only household objects, any weapons you can get off the dead, and your bare hands as you can within a minute. You won’t have long to act once the killing starts.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” Morgan says. The setting is a fancy dinner, with eight dummies present – six to represent her future buyer and his guests, the other two representing guards. She has mainly forks, knives, and ptes at her disposal.

  Danni takes out a stopwatch. “Begin,” she says as she starts the timer.

  Immediately, Morgan takes one of the forks and quickly stabs one of the guard dummies where there would be an eye, before pulling a gun loaded with paintball rounds from the “blinded” dummy and firing one round into the head of the second guard dummy, then pivoting and shooting the first guard in the head as well.

  Ten seconds gone.

  She tries to start shooting at the other dummies, but the gun is out of rounds. Swiftly, she throws the gun at the head of one of the other dummies, before cwing the throat out of a second dummy and delivering incapacitating blows to a third before stabbing it in the back with a carving knife.

  Thirty seconds gone.

  She sweeps the legs out from the dummy she threw the gun at and grabs it by the head, twisting quickly. That’s five down in total. She grabs a wine gss, shatters it on the table, then uses the resulting sharp stem of the gss to impale another dummy in the throat.

  Forty-five seconds gone.

  Finally, she moves in to attack the st two, but she is shot in the back by a paintball round with ten seconds to go. “Mistress, what…?” she starts to ask.

  “You should know as well as anyone that if the pn calls for a minute, you try to finish in forty-five seconds so you can get away,” Danni says as she holds a paintball pistol. “We’ll try this again tomorrow. Now, you have a dress to clean.”

  “...But you shot me!” Morgan protests. “You should have to…”

  “...Little girl,” Danni scolds. “If you were faster, you wouldn’t have gotten shot. And that’s enough backtalk. You’re going to wash the dishes tonight for all the PMCs and guards. By hand.”

  Morgan’s jaw drops. “...But that’s…”

  “Do you want to do their undry too?” Danni asks.

  “No, Mistress…” Morgan says, defeated.

  “Now go be a good maid and get to your cleaning,” Danni says as she points at the triple sink. There are three full carts of dishes waiting to be washed. Worse, tonight was sloppy joe night. Very messy.

  Morgan sighs and longingly looks over at the dishwasher she won’t be allowed to use. Well. Time to get to it, then.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  (1930)

  Kelly sits in Stefan’s room, the one that’s locked to where only she can access it. “Malware. More likely, someone stole her phone, but who?” she reads to Stefan. She’s reading back one of his diaries from just before his disappearance, hoping to jog his memory and get a little bit of him back. “I don’t want to suspect her parents, but I really can’t think of who else could have done it. I know they don’t like me; that’s why I’m trying to make enough for us not to be reliant on them. If this app does what I hope it will…”

  Stefan doesn’t react at all to any of this. The damage to his psyche is extreme, so much so that Kelly simply doesn’t comprehend the sheer scope of it. She’s tried bringing him to multiple mental health professionals, but none of them have been able to do anything with him. If there is anything left of him within his feminized outer shell, it’s weighed down so badly by trauma that it may never be able to resurface.

  Kelly continues to read. “If this app does what I think it will, we could run away the moment I sell the rights to it.” She sniffles as she reads his words. “...I didn’t realize you resented us trying to protect you. Maybe we did keep you too close. It didn’t protect you in the end…” She wipes the tears from her eyes and goes back to reading. “October 20th, 2019…”

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [20 october 2019]=-=[sunday]=-=(0848)

  Stefan is doing something he normally doesn’t do on a Sunday. He’s getting dressed up, and he’s going to church. Specifically, he’s going to the church Tiff’s family attends. Tiff had suggested that he attend a sermon and try to get to know her parents.

  Naturally, Stefan’s parents were very worried about this. They were nominal church-goers at best, and when they did go, it was to a much more progressive church on the other side of the city. Gary was especially worried about the misogynistic rhetoric that particur denomination was known for, so he decided that if this was going to happen, he was going to go along, as well as a pin-clothes bodyguard.

  Kelly decided once she heard about this that she wasn’t going to go sit and py nice in a church that basically would tell her she was going to burn for all eternity if she didn’t submit to the men in her life.

  Thus, Gary is in his own Sunday best as he waits downstairs, a grey suit with a tie that he typically wears when he’s trying to get investors for his next big program. The bodyguard is close by, waiting for Stefan to come down so they can depart.

  “Are you sure my coming along isn’t overkill, Mr. Jourgensen?” the bodyguard asks. “I mean, it’s not like we’re heading into a war zone.”

  “Honestly, it may be worse. These are God and guns types, Adrian,” Gary says as he fumbles with his tie. “Damned thing.” He looks expectantly to Adrian.

  “Sir, you’re lucky I’m wearing a proper suit for this, I can’t help you with the tie,” Adrian says. “I just went with a clip-on tie.”

  Stefan comes down the stairs, having about as much luck with his tie as his dad. “Ugh. Whoever invented ties should be shot.”

  “Honestly, whoever designed suits should be shot,” Adrian grumbles.

  “Come on, guys, it’s not that bad…” Gary says, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself of his own words.

  “Says the guy who goes to shareholder meetings dressed like Bruce Campbell in Burn Notice,” Stefan says. “I’m surprised you haven’t snuck in a mojito.”

  “Hey, now, Sam Axe is a mood,” Gary says. “Anyway, this is your idea, champ.”

  “Well, technically, it’s Tiff’s…” Stefan points out.

  “To-MAY-to, to-MAH-to,” Gary says. “Let’s go, guys.”

  The three go out to a rge SUV. Normally they’d take the Prius, but today Gary’s not feeling good about bringing that car, so they’re using Adrian’s SUV. They travel down the highway to the church just outside of the city, over on the ftter side of it. The parking lot is overflowing, and services appear to be being held inside of a rge circus tent, of all things.

  “That’s definitely a crowd…” Stefan says as he steps out of the SUV.

  “Yeah…” Gary says. “Let’s do this…”

  As the three walk in, the pastor is going on about aliens and demons, preaching loudly about the Antichrist, and generally being boisterous and unpleasant. He seems to be more interested in preaching against Democrats and others he finds immoral than against women today, at least.

  The three find a pce to sit in the back and try to listen. After about five minutes, it all starts to run together to them. Stefan grows visibly bored, while Gary looks at his son. “You thought this was a good idea,” he whispers.

  “Yeah, I’m also starting to see why she hates coming here,” Stefan whispers back.

  “Shh,” Adrian admonishes.

  The preacher finishes the sermon about forty-five minutes ter, and church starts to let out. Stefan and Gary walk over to where Tiff, her mother Mimi, and Jason were sitting as they start getting ready to leave.

  “Can we help you?” Jason asks, in a bit of a short tone.

  Gary holds out his hand. “Gary Jourgensen,” he says, introducing himself. “My son goes to school with your daughter.”

  “Yes…” Jason says, groaning in disdain. “I know all about you and your demon spawn, Jourgensen. Listen carefully. My daughter is going to save herself for a God-fearing Christian man and she’s going to be an obedient wife. While you’re burning in Hell, we’ll inherit the world. I have no time for you or your Johnny-come-tely ilk.”

  “With all due respect, Mister…” Gary begins. He’s a bit taken aback by the man’s naked prejudice. And why, because he doesn’t come from money, or believe in the same things?

  “Levin. Jason Levin,” he says. “Mimi, Tiffany, go out to the car.”

  Mimi leaves without a word. Tiffany does too, but she shoots an apologetic look to Stefan, who appears mortified.

  This was proving to be a terrible idea.

  “Mr. Levin, does it really matter where we or our money come from?” Gary asks. “What’s important is that we use what we have to further all of mankind, right?”

  “Careful you don’t drown because of that bleeding heart,” Jason says. “My goal is to enrich my family, both financially and spiritually. The end is coming, and I’m going to ensure we’re on the winning side. Quite frankly, if they haven’t made themselves right with God, then I don’t care about the rest of mankind.”

  Stefan cringes. This was a terrible idea. Tiff was always going on about what an asshole her father was. Turns out it was the understatement of the decade, he realizes, as Jason leaves without another word.

  “Let’s go…” Gary says, sighing.

  “Yeah,” Adrian says. “It was like you were talking to a brick wall. At least it didn’t come to blows.”

  “He doesn’t strike me as the type. Why get violent when you’re so convinced you’re right?” Gary surmises.

  The three walk back out to the SUV. Its tires are sshed.

  “Oh, for crying out loud…” Adrian says as he calls for a tow truck.

  “...Holy… that’s petty,” Stefan says.

  Gary looks a bit worried.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  (1323)

  “You can’t be serious, Dad!” Stefan protests.

  “Look, it’s obvious that her family wants nothing to do with us, especially you, and no matter what you do, you’ll never be good enough for them in their eyes. I’m not saying you can’t see her ever again, but maybe you should wait until she’s eighteen so her parents aren’t in such control of her life,” Gary says.

  “I still can’t believe they sshed Adrian’s tires,” Kelly says.

  “You’re talking about waiting three years!” Stefan shouts. “By then, they could have her married off to some fundie chucklefuck and I’ll have lost my chance!”

  “Language, hon…” Kelly says, admonishing Stefan’s swearing.

  “Stefan, your mom and I are just worried about your safety here,” Gary says. “Like it or not, right now… she’s forbidden fruit. You need to take a step back.”

  “Would you have taken a step back with Mom?” Stefan retorts. “I know how Grandpa Ryan and Grandma Agnes were, and you didn’t always have the Accession payday.” Kelly’s parents were, to be blunt, scumbags.

  “Probably not… but I still had to wait for her to get away from those two before we could start getting serious,” Gary says. “Besides, she can’t get married til she’s 18 anyway.”

  “They could marry her off at 16 if they could convince a judge!” Stefan yells. “How are you so smart, yet not know something like that, Dad?!”

  “...That’s enough, Stefan,” Kelly says as she ys down the w. “You will not disrespect your father like that. Go to your room for the rest of the night.”

  “Disrespecting him? For what? Calling him a fool?” Stefan asks, incredulous.

  “I’ve made my decision. You’re not going to hang out with her until she’s free and clear of her parents’ authority,” Gary says. He hopes it’s the final word on the subject, but he knows it won’t be.

  Stefan starts to storm off.

  Gary clears his throat. “Phone.”

  “What?” Stefan asks.

  “Give me your phone. If I know you, you’ll probably text her and try to sneak off so you can get together anyway,” Gary says.

  Stefan reaches into his pocket, takes out his smartphone, and pces it on the table, then he turns and heads upstairs. “I hate you!” he shouts.

  He reaches his room and sms the door shut.

  Gary sighs and facepalms. “That could have gone a lot better… he’s at that age.”

  Kelly also sighs. “You did what you could. From what you told me when you got back, it went worse than just badly.”

  “Catastrophically would be an understatement,” Gary says as he sits on the couch. “Tiff’s dad has his head so far up his own ass that he could see teeth in front of him. He might actually be insane. I don’t want Stefan to have to deal with that.”

  Meantime, once Stefan is in his room, he reaches into his nightstand and pulls out his burner phone. “They want me to break up with you,” he texts Tiff as he lies in bed.

  “so do my folx,” Tiff texts back in reply. “theyre already trying to set me up with a guy from church. he’s nasty and old, like 20.”

  “Let’s run away,” Stefan decides. “I’ve got enough money in my savings account to st us a couple of months. That’ll be long enough to finish and shop around the aggregator and get a payday so we can live comfortably for a while.”

  “we should meet before we do something like that,” Tiff texts. “can you get to jays?”

  Jay’s is a restaurant popur with teenagers for endless coffee refills and a cook that’s known to sell pot out of the kitchen. Not that either Stefan or Tiff partake in that, but it’s one of the worst-kept secrets among the kids at the private high school they attend.

  “Yeah,” Stefan texts back. “I’ll be there at 3.” He gets a confirmation reply back from Tiff, then he reaches under his bed and grabs his journal. He starts writing down what happened during the day.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  (1436)

  Stefan arrives early to the restaurant. He goes in and orders a coffee – bck, three sugars – then he waits for Tiff to show up.

  Seconds turn to minutes, then turn into an hour. He looks at the burner phone. No replies. He texts her. “Where are you?”

  No response.

  He tries not to catastrophize. It could be something as simple as her getting caught sneaking out by her parents. He continues to sip coffee, by now on his fourth.

  Eventually, the clock strikes four and he gives up. “I’m going home, we’ll talk at school,” he texts. He pays for the coffee and heads out of the restaurant. His way home takes him past the back of the restaurant.

  As Stefan reaches the dumpster in the rear of the restaurant, he feels a jab in his neck. “Shoo, bug…” He reaches back and finds… a dart? “Huh?” He starts to lose consciousness. Before he bcks out, he texts his parents. “Need help, at Jay’s,” he manages to send before everything goes bck.

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [12 january 2024]=-=[friday]=-=(2013)

  “...That was the st message we got from you before you…” Kelly says, as she starts to sob.

  Stefan says nothing. The feminized boy remains as unresponsive as ever.

  “...Oh, sweetie, I wish I knew what they did to you wherever you were, so we could try to undo it…” Kelly says, on the verge of bawling. “I know you’re in there somewhere. I’m not going to give up. I’m going to get the bastards that did this to you, then I’m going to get you back.”

  If she truly knew what Stefan endured, she would go mad and possibly join her son in a catatonic state…

  --={@~~~@}=--

  [21 october 2019]=-=[monday]=-=(0544)

  Stefan starts to come to inside a concrete-lined room. He has a pounding headache, both from the sedatives that were used to subdue him, and from the bright lights in the room. He feels a pain in his ass, from a pair of injections given to him while he was asleep. He looks up and around as he gets up. His clothing is gone, repced by a hospital gown. “Hello? What is this?” he asks.

  There’s no response.

  All he sees is a cereal bar and a bottle of water. Otherwise, the room is furnished much like a prison cell. There’s a toilet that offers no privacy with a sink, or more of a wash basin mounted over the back. It’s small, no more than eight feet by eight feet. “Hello? This isn’t funny!” he calls out. He walks over toward the door but finds himself not quite able to reach it.

  He looks down and sees a chain attached to a cuff around his right ankle. It offers enough give for him to reach the toilet, but not the door.

  He also notices a security camera in the ceiling. He’s being watched.

  What kind of sick fucks are doing this? Worse, what do they want with him, and what’s going to happen to him?

  Eventually, after an hour or two - who can tell? - the answers come as a pair of men in combat fatigues and carrying rifles walk into the room. “Come with us,” one says, while the other unlocks the cuff.

  Stefan starts to speak. “What is…”

  The PMC that gave him the command strikes him in the gut with his rifle. “No speaking. Just come with us.” They each grab him by an arm and drag him out of the room.

  He is dragged down a corridor and eventually led to a room with a metal chair and a screen on the far wall. He tries to fight as they force him into the chair, but another strike from the rifle stops his resistance. Stefan is just an ordinary boy. He’s not an athlete, he’s not even trained in self-defense. He’s spent his time developing his mind, not his body. “What is this?!”

  “Be quiet!” the second PMC commands as the first one ties Stefan down into the chair.

  A masked man in hospital scrubs walks over to Stefan, cleaning his shoulder with an alcohol wipe before giving him an injection.

  As the drug sets in, he’s still awake, but less resistant.

  At that point, Jason Levin walks into the room.

  “Huh… Mr. Levin… what…” Stefan tries to say, but he’s starting to slur as if he is drunk.

  “I said you weren’t good enough for my daughter,” Jason says. “I said you weren’t one of us. I could have you killed, and no one would realize you were dead until you were just bones,” he says. “But I and certain… associates of mine have certain proclivities we like to engage in from time to time. I doubt you will ever understand them fully. I know your father doesn’t. He’s too much of a free spirit. He doesn’t see himself as the better of all those peons out there, the unwashed masses, the poor, the sick. Surely he’d see what we’re doing here, and he would break.”

  Jason walks forward and is close enough for Stefan to smell his breath. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be returned to your parents, in time. But not without… modifications.” He takes a few steps back, takes a remote control offered to him by one of the PMCs, and turns on the screen.

  “This is a take on an old Soviet mind control technique,” he expins as Stefan’s eyes are forcibly held open. “Those Commies weren’t good for much, but they knew how to break a person. See, they did an experiment on people, showing them imagery and propaganda meant to inspire fear. They did it for so long and so well that the people it was done to could never overcome them. Something simir is in store for you, though I intend to fill you with emotions other than fear. Among other modifications. Then I’m going to show my dear Tiffany just what kind of man you are.”