"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
He crossed the last street before finally reaching the school, frustrated that he couldn't think of anything in time. Improvisation, that's what was left for plan C.Winston usually drove fast, and because of the time he arrived at school, he didn't have to pay much attention to this while parking the car, there were never any people, never any cars leaving or entering. That day, something was different, there was a car that shouldn't have been there.With the car parked in the usual spot – penultimate, bottom – he made his way to the principal's office where he found Principal Brooke busy, attending to the possible owner of the intruding car."Ah, Mr. Connel, we've been expecting you," said the director, getting up and signaling to sit down. "This is Chelsea Miller," she pointed to the guest, who smiled and turned to the man."She held out her hand to greet him, and he politely returned it, still confused. "Pleased to meet you," he said and sat down."We've been expecting you, Mr. Co
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
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