Winston took much of the food he had taken to the basement kitchen and transferred it to the main kitchen, he was going to give the impression that he was healthy and eating well. Pure lie. There were plenty of rooms in the house, not counting the new ones that remained in the basement. He didn't plan to show the place to Chelsea, and there was no reason, the basement only allows storing what nobody cares about, she wouldn't imagine that in that house there would be a “mini house” ready to receive teenagers that would be kidnapped.
He sprayed perfume on himself three times, instead of the usual amount. Not only that, but he was ready for their arrival, luckily for him, visitors like coffee, so he took the time to spray some sweet, just the way he liked it. He filled the house with the scent of lavender and made everything as beautiful as possible. He also transferred a complete set from one of the new bedrooms to the guest room. Luckily, the giant room he had made on the second floor was still empty, so on the spot, he would make up any excuse about what the room would be like in the future.Finally, the time came, half an hour before, Chelsea had already said she was on her way, and that the paperwork was ready, she looked excited, and in the background, he could hear the girl's voice, but it was too low to understand. He sat down on his couch and waited for the bell to ring, thereafter, he walked to the door and found Chelsea, still dressed the same way she was when in the morning, next to him was Morgan. Flashbacks of his first sister's death came to mind, she looked a lot like his other sister, the one who had died in childhood, in an attempted robbery, she had died protecting him, he was too young. Looking at Morgan was like a shock, he wasn't going to be able to get her on the tests, not as long as he remembered his sister every time he saw her."Come in, make yourselves at home," and then he smiled gently at the girl, who naively smiled back. They went inside."Why a house so far away?" she questioned gently, as she accepted a simple cup of coffee."Well, it's not that far away judging by the street, I'd say everyone around here likes their privacy, it's quiet, and the atmosphere is nice," Winston knew how to be a nice, correct person, the problem is that most people still don't know that this is the most dangerous kind of person."Well, your kitchen is quite bright, it must be nice to cook here," she said, as she blew her coffee sometimes yes, sometimes no."I like pudding," Morgan commented, taking a bite of a piece of bread."Oh? We can make some together sometime, what do you think?" Connel offered, the girl smiled encouragingly and shook her head positively. He had a good portion of her trust, manipulating it wouldn't be as complicated as it seemed. Chelsea liked the mood she was seeing, little did she know the nightmare she was inserting the child into. "Shall we tour the house?" he asked, they nodded.The 'tour' began in the living room, there was a TV and a medium-sized couch, it was a small room. Across the room, to the right, was the giant kitchen, which met the main room; a corner sofa, a Smart TV, a coffee table, and a massive rug, made the room cozy. It was a room that he didn't use, so it looked spotless. He showed the bathroom that was there, and then the guest room, which was neutrally decorated enough for anyone to feel at ease, regardless of gender. Finally, he showed her the study, leaving Ms. Miller amazed at the size of the book collection, and the comfortable space. Not far from the stairs to the second floor, there was the stairway to the basement."That door leads where?" the assistant questioned."It's the basement, it's average, and it's a mess, I just moved in and there's a lot of old stuff from the old residents too, opening that door would spoil the experience, I imagine the girl here is eager to see what's upstairs," and he directed his gaze at her, who excitedly nodded and started up the steps in complete elation; Chelsea laughed low. They went upstairs.The psychologist's room was as spotless as the living room, after all, he didn't even use the room. The 'tour' went on to the bathroom that was there, and then two more rooms, which were a bit sloppy. Finally, at the end of the corridor, was the huge room, which before was only two rooms. As imagined, there were questions, and he, as a good improviser to make good impressions, said that he had no plans, but that it was always good to have a big place in the house because ideas sometimes needed big spaces. Theoretically, he didn't lie, that room meant exactly the expansion of an idea. Morgan didn't like the room, she didn't seem comfortable with that space all empty and with wide walls barely painted gray. Chelsea found Winston's answer quite philosophical, and he concluded that the girl had high indications of claustrophobia; he would find out soon enough.The meeting ended with Winston signing a horde of guard papers, and Miller's security guard unloading the girl's bags into her room. Chelsea concluded that he was fully fit to care for the girl and that the girl seemed excited about staying with him. Conditions were imposed: Morgan would not change schools, and he would have to pick her up and drop her off daily while she was still a child; in short, he would have to wake up earlier, and finally, quarterly visits by the assistant would take place during the first two years of her custody. In the end, everything worked out with the girl.He had many things to review. He no longer liked the idea of her being a victim, he cogitated at that moment, to raise her as any normal girl, with a normal life, in a normal house. He would have to keep her away from the basement, and he would also have to keep the basement discrete from the house. He would have to muffle the sound, Morgan wouldn't find out about the kidnapped teenagers, and Winston would do everything he could to make sure that didn't happen.After Ms. Miller left the house, he helped Morgan pack up her things. She reminded him too much of his older sister, and he liked her very much, in only a few hours he found himself attached to her, but no more than in his survival thesis.The biggest difficulty at that moment, would be hiding the basement from the new resident, since the idea of using her as a victim, had failed; that, if of course, she wasn't so "fascinating!" - as he called the teenagers he liked —, and he would know soon enough, evidently he would love to have an exclusive therapy session for her daily, even if she wasn't going to go through the post kidnapping trauma process, or the rest negative than the others, she still could be used in the final project, unlike the others, he had over her, much more control and dominance, that is, she would be victim zero, the most manipulated of all. For a moment, as Winston mentally plotted this plan, while watching her tidy up the room, he wished for a brief second that it would be good to be wrong in his thesis and that, with this, she wouldn't kill anyone, and no one would kill her, total survival. She abandoned that conclusion the next second when she imagined that it would be much more exciting if she ki
About an hour later, the girl, already seated at the table, was enjoying a fried chicken, which, by the way, was well done, well done. The rice was sticky, and the beans lacked salt; she considered complaining but eventually remembered that this would wipe the fake smile – which she didn't know was fake – off his face."It's a… delicious… uncle!" she commented as she chewed and closed her eyes to disguise the bitterness the chicken had. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, noticing that he hadn't put an extra plate on the table."Come on. I know it's shit, I don't usually cook.""You said it was healthy," she reminded him. He hesitated for a few seconds."Yes, which means I eat it, not that I think it's good, there are differences, little girl.""But you said you didn't use to cook, not that it wasn't good," he looked at her seriously, dumb, and beastly she wasn't, they had the same blood anyway, if he considered himself so smart, evidently his niece would be too."Brush your teeth a
After that topic, in which he was now sure she had the phobia, he decided to go deeper into family matters. To his surprise, she was not at all uncomfortable talking about the death of her parents, she was a child who had already fully overcome her grief, and this was somehow frightening; she seemed too sensitive to the surrounding things, to face her in a situation that should make her cry instead of smile, was very curious; either she was a child who was well resolved about death, or else she pretended very well that she was calm. If it were the first option, Winston would have a high chance that would kill everyone in the final test, death didn't shake her, and he, as her current caregiver, could work very well with that.Finally, she went to bed, and he returned to his office. He kept her makeshift chart next to Turner's and Foster's charts. In his notebook, he searched for a few stores in town, stores that stocked large-scale sound mufflers because he would need them, in the base
With Morgan in the car, Winston discovered that not only was she audacious, but she was also greedy. He quickly noticed the receipt for the Starbucks purchase, and like any normal child, he didn't hesitate to order. After several tantrums and punches along the way, accompanied by a fake cry, he eventually took her for a drink there, which took fifteen minutes before she chose a Classic Chocolate. Finally, sometime later, they returned home, although it was still mid-afternoon, Seattle was already exhibiting more mature weather, and along with that, more rain.He decided to install the mufflers while the girl took a bath, the loud noise of the shower would prevent her from hearing any suspicious noise, it was the gap she needed. The installation was a success, everything was now officially prepared, and this included the various cameras, which he had already installed from the beginning, and was ready to finally fulfill their purpose: monitoring.For the first time in his life, Winston
"So, what would you do in the following situation?" the professor showed, pointing to the whiteboard, which displayed several old pen marks made for that purpose. As in every college class, attention was turned sometimes to the board, sometimes to the cell phone. Not that day, at least not for Winston. He had been attending philosophy classes faithfully since his school days, and now he liked the idea of becoming a philosopher. All around him, Winston looked much older, everyone in his 25s, while he was almost 40. He didn't care, in that class, all he wanted was an answer.The whiteboard displayed one of those classic problems that you have to think through until you come up with a personal answer. With attention on the educator, the issue was then shown:"Think of someone you love besides yourself. In a survival situation, in which only one of you two can make it out alive, counting on one killing the other. What would you do?"A - I would kill that person.B - I would let that perso
Theories were made to be tested and to conclude what one initially thinks about an idea. Whether it is about an open issue in a movie or a conspiracy, the truth is that everyone expects concrete answers about any assumption; while some go searching for the truth, others prefer to sit in a hammock, enjoying the shade, while the opposite side brings the conclusion to the surface. The question is: who are you in this situation?After the debate in class, months before he finally graduated, Winston Connel already had in mind what he wanted to do from then on. He was already working as a psychologist in a school. The truth is that while in college, he ended up arranging an internship, which was so successful that he was hired immediately, without a degree. He liked the work, he liked helping teenagers and their problems. Young people, human beings with no idea of real issues, at least most of them.When he finished philosophy school and had the basis of the plan ready, Winston knew he need
Being around teenagers all the time, he knew that they were well influenced when they were young. He noticed this in them, as young as seven years old. At seven, children start to learn, they already know how to read and write, and soon after would come math, but not only this, at this age they start to understand things around them, even if sometimes in the wrong way. A child can be influenced to be close to another child, most friendships start very early because pre-teens have no concrete beliefs, no formed personality of their own, they have no values to follow, and they just live for others. Winston knew this better than anyone. If he put one child in an environment with another, they would understand each other, and if their friendship were nurtured, the bond would strengthen, strong enough that neither side would want it broken. For the theory to work, the people would need to have a strong bond, but if he couldn't find them, he could then create them. That was the plan, he had
That day, the schedule grid had only one patient, Martin Turner, the same grade as Jeffrey, different class and opposite personality. He was the type to make friends with whomever he wanted, and this was natural, he was a normal child, but the school insisted that he had a problem, trypanophobia - fear of needles. Vaccination was important, campaigns went into the schools, and Martin would make a fuss and embarrass himself in front of everyone, his fear was so great, he didn't even care. It bothered the school. Winston would take any challenge, he liked them, the issues, and being alone in a room smelling of flowers was boring. Drinking coffee alone in the teachers' lounge was boring too. Working as the best thing, he hated sitting still."How are you today, Martin?" Connel asked softly, as the boy still sat down."I'm fine," the boy replied. The psychologist cracked a small smile, satisfied with the answer. "I had oatmeal at recess, it was oatmeal. Do you like oatmeal?" Martin was so