A timely psychological thriller about school bullying and its deadly consequences.
Terry, 13, loves his iPhone X, Fortnite, and... Jennifer.
Jennifer loves Instagram, herself, and Vincent.
Vincent despises Terry and he is his worst nightmare.
Terry...
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Tuesday, october 22nd
The doorbell buzzes once, twice. Terry, groggy, hops in his bed and gets up, utterly disoriented, illuminated only by the threatening scarlet glow of the webcam. The doorbell rings again. The teenager rushes out of his room, dressed only in pajama bottoms, calling for his father and Emilie, but no one answers in the house. The front door creaks open, then slams shut. Thirty seconds later, Terry is back in his room. He places a package on his desk and opens the shutters. The bright light of the autumn sun reveals his messy room, his unmade bed, and his tousled red hair. He leans over the package and shakes it a bit. Then he begins to unwrap it and reveals a book with a reddish-brown, cracked cover, with only one inscription: Imperium, in faded silver. Terry seems bothered by the smell of the book, he brings it closer to his nose and grimaces in disgust. He opens it anyway, leafing through a few pages. The unflinching garnet of the camera is trained on him.
Then Faust logs into the chat and asks him how he is.
— I'm okay. Did you do the delivery? Why didn't you wait?
— It wasn't me. You can find anything on the dark web... even delivery people.
Terry's childlike face shows intense surprise.
— But this book is so weird, Terry says as he opens the book again. It stinks, it's gross.
— That's up to you... But I thought you were determined. I must have been wrong. You must be happy with your crappy situation, somewhere.
Terry blushes and clenches his teeth.
— Sorry, I'm not very awake. I'm going to read it, of course. I'll be back later, I'm hungry, I'll have breakfast...
— Okay.
The teenager stops by a little later to get some clean clothes before heading out again. The shower's spray is heard, and when Terry returns, water drips from his hair onto his blue t-shirt. He grabs the Imperium, settles into his bed, and starts reading intently, under the spectral gaze of the red eye. Here we go...
Thursday, october 24th
Terry taps away on his PC, focused. He's using a video editor, all while reading the Imperium, wide open next to his mouse. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead, and he wipes them away now and then with an irritated sleeve. He follows the instructions to the letter, and as he goes, the tiny hairs on his neck and arms stand up more and more, and his face takes on a greenish tint. Finally, his montage is ready. It's 10:28. Terry presses the play button and reviews the video. It's designed to hurt someone. A moderate hurt, sure, but still very real. He opens a fake email account and writes a cryptic message to lead his recipient to watch the video.
