Slugs: A Story

Chapter 7

A few days later, a man named Theodore Heidenburough was watching the news.

"A man and a woman's body have been discovered at a local Gas brand Gas Station. They both appear to be dead," announced the news reporter. "But we can never be sure."

Theodore stared for a second, wondering why they would say that.

"Um, Jared? Why would they NOT be dead?" asked the news reporter to someone off stage.

"Just read what it says to read!" yelled a high pitched masculine voice.

"Okay, then... uh... oh, right. The man has been identified as Wilson Zen Heidenburough."

Theodore froze. Wilson Zen Heidenburough was his brother. Surely there must be a mistake?

"Oh! A status update!" exclaimed the reporter. "We have identified that they are both dead."

The reporter kept on talking, but Theodore heard none of it. Wilson was dead. Or at least, they were pretty sure he was dead. He knew what he had to do.

Theodore ran out of his house's front door and into his car, turning on the ignition and pressing the gas pedal simultaneously. A few minutes later he was at the Gas Station (TM) that the incedent had taken place.

The entire area was framed off by yellow caution tape, and there were police and other authority figures swarming around a car pulled up next to a filling station.

In a panic, Theodore rushed forwards and desperately tried to see what everyone was looking at. He ducked underneath the caution tape and ran directly into something solid.

"Whfshhfjahwd," he said.

Theodore extracted his face and looked into the eyes of a burly policeman.

"Hey, son, you can't really be in here," he said menacingly.

As Theodore turned around in defeat, something caught his eye.

Wilson.

Dead.

He gasped at the sight of his ill fated brother. So it was true. Wilson Zen Heidenburough was truly dead.

Anger coursed through Theodore's body. He was gripped by a sudden desire for revenge. Whatever, whoever, had killed his brother would in turn die to him. He was sure of nothing else.