Scarlet was headed towards the interrogation room. She read the file containing the preliminary reports about the hostage situation that took place two days ago. The school officials disband the students and closed down the school until the dust settles. Media used this to launch shocking headlines and yes, it all got political, just like the assailant has predicted.
While the hole in the school’s ceiling was being filled, the investigators swooped the school for explosives. Those game-inspired replicas the assailant made; models of a bomb, five crates and an object which could be used as a cold weapon ended up in the lab. The technician wrote that none of them had illegal compounds in their build. All five of the crates were additionally refurbished, but nobody could hide the cracks – signs that someone previously smashed them.
This could be the reason why assailant retaliated. It seemed so ridiculous at the moment but given time and constant provocation, anyone could turn into a monster. Everybody had a threshold for tolerance.
Hand-made bulletproof vest on the attacker was Level 4, almost military grade type protection. He was skillful. No wonder he tricked everybody with those bogus bombs. Even like that, broken in pieces, the bombs looked mean.
Scarlet entered the room and there were three boys, assailant’s classmates. Fine young boys, athletes, football players, all of them handsome and stylish.
“Alright, boys. Tell me what did you do to him?” Scarlet exhaled and ran her eyes over the suspects who stared at each other, reluctant to speak.
“Shouldn’t we have our lawyers here?” One of them asked.
“You are underaged and all legal rights go through your parents and your parents believe you are great kids, so… Your lawyers are on the other end of that glass. Come on. Let’s not waste time. Tell me what did you do to him.” She continued with the same tone, but boys defied the authority.
“Why do you think it’s us?” The same boys replied again and Scarlet read the situation in the room.
“What we call an event like this is a ‘Wyrm warrior’.” Scarlet started rolling up her sleeves. “So, what does that means? It means that, under a certain influence, a man can become something he is not. For an example: A man witnesses his family being slaughtered before his eyes, and instead of going desperate, sad and powerless, the death of his family causes an immense rage and he goes berserk and then you have a lot of dead bodies to count. It’s that story about a mother lifting up a bus to save her child, just with more blood and death. An untrained eye could call this a terrorist attack and it is similar, I can’t say it isn’t, but this is different. See, your friend, had a lot of time to prepare. This made him more dangerous than a sleeping cell. If we had a Marine with these symptoms during the war, we usually let him go in a suicide mission. We point him to the most dangerous place there is and pull back. In a week, the terrain was clear and that Marine went onto the next objective. There is no way of holding him down. Only death can stop him and these men are very, very strong and cunning. Last time we had this in a war mission, we engaged with the Third Caliphate. Do you understand that? He is like a Wyrm, slithery and quick, deadly at all accounts. This condition doesn’t happen out of nowhere. We know that for sure. Someone made it happen and it happens in your school, in your class. Your grades are very good, but you also have many visits to the principles office. So, I’ll ask you one more time. What did you do to him?!” She showed them the teeth and slammed the table.
All three of them jerked back, their faces vividly pale and hands shaking. They told her everything: every spiteful remark, every prank, humiliation, every time they poured something on him, ridiculed him, broke his projects, burnt his essays and hacked his social profiles, they said everything and more.
Her story did the trick. Of course, it was all a lie, but it made them speak.
After the interrogation was over, she analyzed the data. Scarlet took the bottle from the cabinet, filled the glass and pressed the button on a remote to mute the news about the attack. She stopped next to the blinds on her window, took a long gulp from the glass and looked at the opened file on her desk.
Tomorrow, she will have to visit the boy who did all of this. Even he is chained to the bed and weak, she trembled in her thoughts.
While you wait, you can watch some of my audio stories on my YouTube channel.