The Price Of Obsession

Chapter Sixteen: Six Feet Under

"Stockholm Syndrome? Already?" the burly man who I had discovered was named Morris remarked. "Well, I'll be damned."

"That isn't important right now," the man guarding the door spoke up. "The question is, where is the money?"

Money? So that's what they were here for. But why?

"I already told you," Derek said shakily. "It's not here at the moment. If you would just give me two days I'll......"

"Oh but I'm afraid I don't have two days," Morris feigned sadness. "If you remember our agreement, Derek when I gave you this house out of the goodness of my heart, we settled on a sum of money that was to be paid every week. Its two days late. No more extensions."

"Morris, please understand," Derek was growing panicked, his hand keeping me protected behind him. "I've been a little strapped for cash at the moment. You know I don't have a job."

"That's not an excuse," he brushed him off. "The sum of $500 right now. Just $500."

"Morris, please," Derek pleaded. "I just need a little more time. Surely there must be something I can pay you with until I get the money. Just a temporary payment."

Morris mulled this over for a few moments before relenting, "You're right. That's a great idea."

He motioned to the henchman that had found me. "Lachlan. Kill the kid."

Derek immediately shrieked, trying to push me further behind him and begging them not to hurt me. I screamed when Lachlan managed to grab hold of me, forcing me onto my knees and pointing a gun at my head.

"No please!" Derek was close to tears. "Don't kill him! I'll do anything!"

"You offered an alternative form of payment," Morris spoke calmly. "However, you cannot decide what form that payment will take. Either you hand over $500 or we'll be blowing his brains out all over the wall. Your call."

I began to cry, my body shaking at the sight of the gun pointed at me. The gunman wore a crude smile on his face, preparing the bullet. I looked to Derek, my eyes glistening with tears.

"Alright!" Derek held his hands up. "Okay! I might have some money lying around here somewhere."

Three pairs of eyes swivelled toward Derek at the prospect of money. Morris pulled out his own handgun and pointed it at Derek.

"Show me," he ordered.

Derek stiffly walked down the hall with Morris nudging him in the back with his gun. Lachlan painfully pulled me up by the arm and forced me to follow them with the man who was guarding the door in tow. Derek led them to the master bedroom and sank to his knees, his hands reaching under the bed to drag a steel safe out.

"Open it," Morris ordered, his gun wavering at the sight of the safe.

I watched, swallowing as Derek mechanically punched in a code to unlock it. A beep sounded and he paused momentarily before opening the door, concealing the contents from view.

"Hand it over," the guard directed sharply.

"Patience, Martinez," Morris said smoothly. "But do be quick, Derek. We got plans."

"Oh, I intend to," Derek said, his tone almost unnatural.

Before any of the three men could respond, Derek whirled around with a gun in his hand, shooting Morris between the eyes. Martinez and Lachlan turned their guns on Derek but were too late as Derek got each of them in the chest. I screamed loudly at the violence unfolding in front of me, cowering in the corner fearfully. Three lifeless bodies lay on the hardwood floor, a crimson pool forming underneath each of them. My mouth dropped open as my scream faded away, taking in the traumatic sight. Derek had simply committed murder without a second thought; ended three lives mercilessly. My widened eyes turned to see Derek slouched against the wall, his hand nursing his shoulder. When I looked closely, I could see a gunshot wound.