Page 15 of The Taskmaster
“Is that a promise? Please say yes, because I’d love to see what you think you could do to me that hasn’t been done already.” I gave another cackle and added, “You see, I already met the devil. He didn’t like me all that much, though. He thought I was a sick motherfucker, too. So, I’m intrigued...Peter. What do you think you can do to me that’ll be worse than what I’ve already endured? Because I’m going to let you into a little secret...” I spoke with a hushed voice now. “You can’t kill what’s already dead.”
I laughed louder as he growled, spitting as he snarled, “Show your fucking face. Or are you too scared to face me?”
“Too scared to face you?” I questioned through the speakers, my voice calm and measured. “I seem to remember you’re theone who prefers to keep his face hidden. You certainly didn’t want that woman I caught you with tonight in the alley to recognise who you were.” I sighed for dramatic effect. “I have to admit, I like to stay hidden, too. I like the air of mystery it brings to encounters like this. But then, there’s a difference between you and me,Peter. I don’t prey on innocent people. I prefer to stalk with purpose. Give my work a little meaning. You could learn a lot from someone like me, and you will... when we get started.”
He marched across the cell, glaring up at the camera as he seethed, “I’ll show you fucking meaning, when I slit your throat then rape your ass.” He tilted his head. “Or is that what you’re into?” He lifted his arms up. “Is all this some sick game? Do you want me to make you my bitch?” He stood on tiptoes to add, “Because we both know who’s the bitch here.”
“Oh, Peter.” I sighed. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. And I don’t think you’re in any position to be calling names or threatening me, do you? Especially when you have so much more to lose. Tell me, do your wife and child know what you do when you leave the house at night?”
“Don’t you fucking dare...” He started to fumble in his pockets, looking for his stuff. But he already knew I had it. His wallet, his keys, and the mobile phone with photos of his wedding, with his son as his best man. What a fucking tragedy. For them. For me, it was the ultimate win.
He sucked in a breath and hissed, “If you go near them... if you fucking touch them, I will?—”
“You’ll what? Kill me? But how, Peter? You can’t even get out of this room. And let me remind you, I’m not the one who preys on the innocent. That’s you.” If he could see me, he’d know I was cocking my head right now in thought. “Then again, I’m not averse to telling a few truths. I’d hate for your widow and your fatherless child to mourn a piece of shit like you. Better they findout what you really are. It might save them a lifetime of grieving for a fucking mirage of a man. A loser. A rapist piece of shit.”
“What the fuck do you want?” he snapped, nostrils flaring as he glared at the camera.
“I want to play a game,” I replied in a sing-song voice.
“You’re fucked in the head,” he responded, cursing under his breath.
“Thanks for the compliment. You really are full of them tonight.”
“Fuck you.” He started pacing the small cell, then he puffed out his chest and growled, “What fucking game? Keep me in here as long as you can so you can watch me and find out all the ways I’m going to fuck you up when I get out of here?”
“Peter, you need to expand your mind. Think outside of the box. That game sounds fucking boring. I was thinking more along the lines of an actual game. One where you have to do something and win a prize.”
“And what fucking prize would that be?”
“Your freedom.”
He was quiet for a moment, contemplating his situation and the predicament he was in.
“Go on,” he pushed, folding his arms over his chest as he stared intently. His stares were a bit ridiculous. Like he could burn lasers into the camera or kill me as I watched. “Enlighten me on this fucking game you want to play.”
“I’m so glad you asked,” I replied jovially. “But first, let me properly introduce myself. It’d be rude of me to start the game without going through the protocols.”
“Fucking protocols,” he scoffed. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I think I’m pretty fucking clever,” I replied. “I got you in here tonight. And you weren’t even my intended guest, but herewe are. I also think I’m a fucking genius. My games are intricate, well thought out, a task to suit the crime you’ve committed.”
“But you said I wasn’t supposed to be here, someone else was. How is that well thought out and suited to anything? You’re a fucking loser.”
“BECAUSE...” I snapped, feeling irritated with his attitude. “The man who was supposed to play this game is also a rapist piece of shit. A rat. And from where I’m standing, you look like both of those things. Youareboth of those things.”
“Whatever,” he hissed, rolling his eyes.
“Are you going to take this seriously, or shall I just pipe the lethal gas into your cell now? I’m sure your wife and child will love finding out what a fucking coward you are. That you didn’t even fight. But then again, that’s you all over, isn’t it,Peter? A spineless fucking coward.”
“Just get this fucking over with,” he spat back.
“On the contrary,” I replied. “I don’t want to rush this. I want to take my time. I think you owe me that for fucking up my night, oh... and the woman you assaulted. I think she’d agree with me.”
He didn’t speak, just stood still, waiting, glaring, his jaw ticking as I watched him.
“I’m The Taskmaster,” I announced, and he huffed a smile that I chose to ignore... for now. “Welcome to your task. I call this one Rat Run, and I think you’ll see why shortly. For now, let’s focus on the rules of the game, and you need to focus very fucking carefully, Peter, because one wrong move and it’ll be game over for you. I’ll send you back to your wife and kid piece by piece, dripping in blood with messages carved into your skin. Messages they won’t like one fucking bit. Do you want that? DO YOU, PETER?”
Still no response, just flared nostrils and fire in his eyes.
