The interrogator looked across the room at the chained man standing in front of him.
“Does the asset understand the terms of service?”
The man looked down at the manacles fastened to his wrists attached to chains looping through an iron circle fastened to the ground at his feet.
“Do I understand the terms of service? Oh sure in the sense that you you’re forcing me to scroll down to the bottom and click accept against my will. But uh yeah. I’m very clear about what’s going on here Mr...uh“
The interrogator stared at him blankly and remained silent.
“Riight, well you obviously know my name so I’m gonna call you Bob. You look like a Bob to me. So anyway as I was saying Bob, yes I’m very clear about the terms of service but I have to say I’m not thrilled about your recruiting technique. I’ve been doing freelance work for a long time and this is just… I don’t know this is old school Bob…very clandestine, very cloak and dagger shit. Quite frankly it’s rude and it’s unprofessional. This is no way to do business.”
The interrogator raised an eyebrow.
“I must confess, you are not what I expected.”
“Uh huh. And what did you expect.”
“I don’t know. I guess something more…just…more.”
“Wow, you have a poet’s flair for words Bob. I’ll give you that.”
“Well it’s just that your kind are known for..”
“My kind? Let me just stop you right there Bob. What the fuck do you know about my kind? Do you have any idea how racist that is?”
Bob smirked.
“Fair enough. But regardless. You are hereby subject to the terms of service per the results of your encryption cyphers being decoded and enforced.”
“My encryption cyp- Jesus Bob that’s quite a sanitized, postmodern quantum computing way of putting it but…yeah ok I get your point. I’ll just roll with it and call these chains your firewall until the job is done.”
“That’s right. Until you complete the assigned task, the terms of service apply and you will be restrained here.”
The asset looked around the brightly lit fluorescent room and shook his head.
“Sometimes I miss the old days. Alright, what’s the job?”
Bob took out his cell phone and started tapping the screen.
“My business is under attack from two sources. The first is law enforcement. Due to changing sociological and political sentiment, my business is now vulnerable, even though I have historically catered to the highest echelons of both the political and economic class, I’m no longer guaranteed the level of protection and discretion that I’ve previously enjoyed. The second threat is a competitor who is seeking to exploit this situation and expand their market share at my expense. I need both sources neutralized. Completely. I’ll also need this handled in such a way that a clear message is sent, discouraging any future attempts to disrupt my business.”
“Uh huh” The asset nodded in understanding. “So basically quash the investigation, wipe out the competition, and make sure that some people die very gruesomely along the way to make it clear that you’re not to be fucked with. That about sum it up?”
Bob smiled.
“Exactly. You get it perfectly.”
“Well I gotta say Bob no one can doubt your commitment. You’ve gone to great lengths and put yourself at considerable risk to protect your little island paradise.”
Bob started to laugh and then his expression darkened.
“Wait, I never told…how did you…?”
The asset smiled at him. His eyes suddenly flickering with a preternatural malevolence.
“Yeahh…about that. You see Bob. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I understood the terms of service agreement. I’ve been living by them for many years. I always honor my contracts. And I never leave a client unsatisfied. It’s a point of pride for me.
Bob nervously cleared his throat.
“Well that’s good. I’m glad to hear it because I’m commanding you to-“
The asset raised one finger to his lips in a shushing gesture, the simple fluid motion causing the chains to break like brittle crackers.
“Shh. I wasn’t done talking Bob. Please don’t interrupt.”
“Wait.. how..”
Bob stammered.
“I… you’re bound to…”
The asset took a step towards him as the manacles released and fell clanging to the ground.
“Am I?”
The asset glanced at the broken restraints and then looked back at Bob with a mock sad face.
“I can see how this must be confusing. Let me clear things up. Yes you are correct about the terms of service agreement. If in fact you had, how did you put, hack my encryption cyphers, then yes, I would absolutely be bound to you. But unfortunately for you Bob the “cyphers” you were given, were fakes. They were just bait to lure you in.
Bob’s eyes filled with fear as he started slowly backing away towards the door.
The asset matched his pace, like a snake slowly approaching a cornered mouse.
“You see I was recently contacted by a woman, a mother in fact, whose daughter disappeared a few years ago; whisked away by one of your “recruiters” to live on your little paradise island. She was just a pretty young girl who wanted to be a veterinarian, excited to see all the exotic birds on your promised her. But we both know what happened when she got there. The torture, the drugs you forced into her veins. Now she’s working her heart out, doing anything, no matter how degrading, just to get that next fix.
Bob reached the door and tried to swipe a card key. There was a beeping sound as the reader flashed red.
“Look, I don’t, I don’t know what’s going on here but I think there’s been a mist-“
“Mistake? Oh no Bob, there’s no mistake. That mother’s anguish was crystal clear. The anger she felt when the police and officials on your payroll ignored her, that was no mistake. The terror she felt when they threatened her other children, that was no mistake. The helplessness and shame she felt at not being able to save her daughter. That wasn’t a mistake either. And when she had nowhere left to turn, all of that pain and rage came beaming out of her while she prayed for days on her knees in front of the altar. It was like a beacon to us, and we responded by offering her something that can’t be acquired with money or political connections.”
Bob was starting to panic. He tried the door again unsuccessfully.
“Look, let me out of here…I have…I can give you…”
The asset was now with reaching distance of him.
“What Bob? What can you give me?”
Bob slumped to the floor with his hands raised in pitiful supplication.
“Please…please…I don’t understand…I did the ritual perfectly…I consecrated the circle with blood…the cyphers were real…”
The asset stared down at him. His shape suddenly appearing less corporeal. His eyes seeming to glow with molten flame. Energy seemed to be emanating from his back sweeping up in the form of fiery wings.
“You claimed to know something about my kind Bob, but you fail to grasp the most remarkable aspect of our nature, which is this, we are perceived by your kind according to the services we provide. The Bedouin might call me a genie, the Hindu might say I’m an Asura, a druid might refer to me as a fairy. But to that grieving inconsolable mother, Bob, mourning her lost little girl, I am a guardian angel.
Bob began to shake uncontrollably.
“But how should I appear to you Bob? I gotta admit, I’m feeling a little nostalgic. I mean considering the old school way you brought me here, thinking you trapped me in this circle by knowing my true name, I think it’s only right that I return the favor and take a form that respects the theme you’ve chosen, you know something from the old Malleus Maleficarum days.”
Claws sprang from the asset’s hands, horns sprouted from his head. The sound of a strange choir seemed to fill the room.
“I’m going to take my time with you Bob. I’m going make you feel so many things. And even though you never knew my true name. It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re screaming it, you can call me by whatever name you like.
And Bob started to scream.
Copyright © 2017 Short Stories by Christopher Daniel Barnes - All Rights Reserved.