Headcase - Necessary Evils #4 - Ch. 20 (Patreon)

Chapter 20

Asa

The war room was crowded, with everybody in attendance except Avi, who was still out of town, and Archer, who’d left town for another poker tournament. Asa stared at his brother’s empty seat—the one closest to the bar. Was he really at another tournament, or did Thomas send Archer out on secret gigs the others weren’t aware of? Maybe it was a combination of both. Archer was an enigma.

August and Lucas had left their squishy angelic-faced distractions with their mother, ensuring the handler would have Thomas’s undivided attention. Well, as much attention as he could manage, anyway. He was often present but never truly all there, as if his thoughts were split. He sat in his chair at the head of the table, his silver hair perfect and a drink dangling from his manicured fingers.

Asa shook his head. He was far too introspective today. He made a point of ignoring the others in the room before he started musing about their lives when he truly didn’t give a shit why they did what they did. The only person whose private life mattered to Asa was Zane, and he was right there beside him, gripping his thigh hard enough for Asa to have bruises in the morning.

“We’re all here, Calliope. What did you find on those DVDs?” Thomas asked.

Calliope let out a shaky breath but said nothing for a long moment. Asa’s gaze darted to Thomas. Calliope rarely hesitated, no matter how bad the details.

“Calliope? Did you find anything?” Asa asked.

“Enough to keep me in therapy for another three years,” she muttered.

“Let’s hear it,” Atticus said, his hand threaded with his husband’s.

“This is more of an audio-visual thing,” Calliope said reluctantly.

“What does that mean?” Zane asked, voice sharp.

“Maybe… Maybe I should just tell you what I found?” Calliope said.

Asa looked at his brothers. They also seemed confused. The others—those with the ability to feel human emotions—looked concerned and a little apprehensive. They’d seen a lot of horrific shit in this room. Stuff most normal people could never cope with.

Noah had confronted photos of the men who had traded him for sex as a child. Lucas had learned just how depraved a fellow agent was when they learned he wasn’t only a murderer but that he tortured women for the entertainment of others. Jericho had learned how much his sister had suffered before she died. Calliope had never attempted to shield them from any of it. Or maybe she had and Asa never noticed.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” Zane amended when he realized the others were staring at him.

Asa knew that wasn’t true. Zane’s sweaty palm now rested on his, his leg bouncing double-time beneath the table, and Asa could practically hear his teeth grinding. But that was nobody else’s business.

“Okay. But, honestly, everybody should prepare themselves. This shit is… It’s fucking awful.”

The color blanched from Zane’s cheeks, but he said nothing.

A video appeared on the screen. A man—presumably Jerry—sat at the desk they’d seen at his house. A different image appeared on each of the monitors before him, but they were all similar. People clearly in the throes of death. When Calliope hit play, it soon became clear why she’d been so nervous.

“Is he—” Noah started.

“Yeah,” Adam said, cutting him off, as if he couldn’t bear to hear him say it out loud.

Noah’s nose crinkled. “Gross. What the fuck?”

The sounds the man made as he watched those on the screen dying were familiar to anybody who’d ever watched porn. Though the view obscured his movements, it was clear he was jerking off to them. He was jerking off to a group of people killing themselves. A group of people he’d convinced to kill themselves.

Yeah, this guy needed to die.

The screen went black, and then a dozen videos appeared. These clips couldn’t have been more different. It was clearly footage from webcams. The people on them looked healthy and happy, though they were watching something on the screen intently.

“This is them when the game first starts,” Calliope said.

The videos morphed into a different day, different time. There were only five videos now. It took Asa a moment to realize that the people on the screen were the same people. They looked sickly. Eyes bloodshot, hair a mess. Some looked as if they’d been crying, and all of them looked on the verge of a breakdown.

“This is the halfway mark,” Calliope muttered.

“Halfway mark?” Zane asked, voice thick.

“Why are there only five videos now?” August asked.

“Because he fails the ones he can’t manipulate. They ‘lose’ the game. These are his finalists,” Calliope explained.

“What does that mean?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s how they’re listed in his collection. The finalists.”

“Sick fuck,” Jericho muttered.

“What did you mean by the halfway point?” Zane asked.

Calliope sighed. “This is where the game changes. He switches tactics.”

“How so?” Thomas asked.

“Let me guess. He starts to befriend them?” Lucas asked.

“How did you know?” Calliope asked.

Lucas’s expression was grim. “It’s an interrogation technique. Break them down, then try to make them think you’re their friend.”

“Befriend them how?” Atticus asked Calliope.

“From what I can see in the chat, he starts to create this sort of intimate bond with them. Convinces them that he’s not like the other handlers. He seems encouraging at first. Tells them that they can do it, they can beat the game, that he has faith in them. That the money they’ll win will change their lives. But once he gets them talking to him, confiding in him, that’s when it all changes.”

“Changes how?” Thomas pressed.

Calliope cleared her throat, still hesitant. “He starts questioning reality. The videos he forces them to watch are the worst kind of conspiracy theory propaganda. Like flat-earther, 911 was an inside job, the country is being run by lizard people conspiracy theory stuff. The kind of things nobody in their right mind would watch if they hadn’t already been broken down psychologically.”

“But why?” Zane asked. “Like, what’s the point of that?”

“He’s systematically stripping down their defenses, making them more susceptible to his ideology,” Lucas said.

“Ideology?” Zane echoed.

“Keep going, Calliope,” Lucas said, without supplying any more detail.

The videos advanced again. “This is where he starts to convince them that none of this is real.”

“None of what?” Zane asked, frustrated.

“Life,” Calliope said softly. “He’s unraveling their reality, convincing them that they’re Neo and he’s Morpheus and they’re all caught in a Matrix-like creation. One they can unplug from if they just complete the final challenge. And die.”

“No fucking way,” Zane snapped. “My brother wouldn’t fall for this bullshit. Gage was the smartest person I knew. There’s no way he’d fall for this. No way.”

“I have the video, Zane,” Calliope said gently. “But you don’t want to watch it.”

“Show me,” Zane said, seething.

“Zane—” Calliope started.

“Show me!” he shouted.

The other videos disappeared and Gage appeared on the screen. Zane sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his brother. His hand, which had rested on Asa’s, now curled around Asa’s wrist, his blunt nails digging into his skin.

“Day one,” Calliope said.

It was clear the footage was coming from Gage’s webcam, though whether he knew it or not was unclear. He looked much like he did in the picture in Zane’s apartment. Good-looking, clear-eyed, dressed in a sweatshirt and a backwards ball cap. Behind him, somebody—possibly his roommate—moved around behind him completely unaware that Zane’s brother was embarking on a game that would take his life.

“Day ten,” Calliope said.

Zane made a sound like a wounded animal at the sight of his brother on the screen. He looked strung out, unkempt. His eyes were red, swollen, bloodshot. There was no sound, but he was speaking animatedly, either to somebody on the other side of his computer or possibly recording himself. He looked terrible, like someone days from succumbing to a serious illness. Asa supposed he was, whether he knew it or not.

“That can’t be ten days,” Noah said. “He looks ten years older.”

“That’s what psychological torture can do to you,” August said. “There’s an entire industry dedicated to learning the best way to systematically break down the human psyche. Even the strongest people have little hope of making it through unscathed.”

“Eric did,” Zane said, voice raw.

“Eric figured it out early. He said it himself. If he hadn’t taken that advertising class that talked about subliminal messaging, he never would have put it together,” Asa reminded him.

“Is that why he tried to kill Eric? He disqualified the others. Clearly, he wanted the number down to five. Why not disqualify Eric?” Zane asked.

“My guess is he worried Eric would spill about the game, the tactics,” Asa said.

That did little to nullify Zane. He was unnaturally pale, his body trembling. “Show me the final clip.”

“No,” Calliope said, tone equally strong.

“You have to,” Zane said, voice suddenly thick with tears. “I need to see it, need to see him. I need to see it with my own two eyes.”

“Please, Zane…” Calliope said. “Don’t watch this.”

Zane swallowed the lump in his throat. “Show me.”

Asa put an arm around him. “Maybe you shouldn’t. You can’t unsee this.”

“I’ve seen plenty of dead bodies and even murders,” Zane managed, his whole body stiff beneath Asa’s touch.

“But those people weren’t your family,” Asa said, looking to the others for help.

“Asa’s right,” Adam said. “Noah still has nightmares about what he saw in his videos.”

Asa hadn’t expected Adam to be the one to come to the rescue. Of all the brothers, Adam was the one who appeared to feel the least. His only real solid emotion was envy—or maybe jealousy. Whatever it was that compelled him to protect Noah at all costs while disregarding the feelings of all others.

“Lucas, tell him,” Calliope said.

“Witnessing a suicide, especially that of a loved one—” Lucas started.

“Makes me more likely to take my own life,” Zane finished. “I know the studies. I’ve read them all. When somebody in your family decides to kill themselves, you become an expert.”

Asa leaned into his space. “I can’t lose you.”

Zane looked at him, startled. “You won’t. I’m not going to unalive myself just because I see my brother—” His voice caught in a sob, but he quickly stuffed it down. “Just show me.”

“Do it, Calliope,” Thomas said, studying Zane as if he could look inside and know he was making the best decision.

The film was clear, but because it was a webcam, there was only so much that could be seen. Gage sitting at his desk, nodding to the camera. He was pale, gaunt, dressed in the same clothes they’d seen him in days before. He didn’t seem distressed so much as exhausted. When he stood, Asa could see he wore pajama pants. Gage walked to the closet just outside of the frame, but the belt that appeared in his hand was visible.

They all watched in taut silence as he stepped up onto his bed. Asa was glad they could now only view Gage from the thigh down. Zane’s nails were drawing blood on Asa’s wrist but he said nothing. He would have let Zane tear him to shreds if it could somehow prevent the inevitable breakdown.

Then it happened. Gage stepped off the bed. It wasn’t a quick death. He didn’t jump from enough of a height or with enough force to break his neck. He died slowly, over three minutes. They watched the whole thing. Nobody moving. Maybe not even breathing.

Zane stared at the screen, unblinking, until his brother’s legs stopped twitching, and then he bolted from the room so fast, it took Asa a moment to even realize he was on the move. He followed, catching sight of Zane rounding the corner, quickly overtaking him. He gripped him by the shoulders, leading him to the closest bathroom where he dropped to his knees and promptly threw up.

It was clear Zane had a weak stomach. He was going to end up with a bleeding ulcer. He had a delicate constitution, which was definitely not suitable for the Mulvaney lifestyle. Asa needed to start taking better care of him.

“I’m fine,” Zane managed between heaves. “Just go.”

Asa sat on the floor behind him, rubbing his back. “I’m not going anywhere, Lois. So, save your breath.”

When Zane’s stomach finally seemed too empty for him to vomit, Asa wet a washcloth and forced Zane to hold still while he wiped his face. “Why did you insist on watching that?”

“Don’t lecture me,” Zane said. “I needed to see it. I just… I needed to know.”

“I’m not lecturing you, Lois. I just think you should let me handle the wet work and you stick with the brainiac paperwork stuff.”

Zane snorted, letting Asa pull him back against him on the floor. “You act as if I don’t know how smart you are. You build skyscrapers for a living. You’re the smart one and the hot one.”

“Now, see, the hot is subjective, Lois. Because I definitely think you’re the hot one in our relationship. You like to keep it under wraps, but it’s there. Nobody knows better than me just how fucking sexy you are, especially when you’re naked and begging. Covered in my bruises. Nobody else will ever come close to that. And, as for smarts, I’m math smart. You’re cop smart.”

“Cop smart?” Zane said, amused.

Asa nodded, grateful he was somehow managing to distract Zane. “Yeah. You know how to investigate. Ask questions.”

“So do you.”

“No, I know how to interrogate. I don’t have your delicate touch. I’m all about getting the answers I want regardless of what’s left of the subject once I do.”

Zane was quiet for a long time, head resting against Asa’s chest. “I want you to kill him,” Zane said finally.

“I swear to you, I’ll kill him, and then we’ll find the others and I’ll kill them, too. But one thing at a time. First, we torture Jerry, then we take out the game master. After that, we’ll start worrying about finding the other handlers. Without the game master, the others will scurry off into hiding.”

“I just want him to suffer. I need both of them to suffer. I need to see it with my own eyes.”

Asa nodded. “I can do that for you, Lois. But none of us would blame you if you didn’t want to watch.”

“Was Noah there when they took out the men who hurt him? Was Lucas?” Zane asked.

Asa nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you think they’re stronger than me?”

Asa frowned. Relationships were so much more of a minefield then he’d ever imagined. One wrong word could lead to disaster. He wasn’t used to having to watch his footing so much. “Of course not. I just don’t want you to think this is some kind of test. Neither Noah or Lucas actively kill for us. There are plenty of things to do in this family that have nothing to do with picking up a weapon. Your contributions are going to be important, and even if they aren’t, I’ll still want you.”

“When do we get this guy?” Zane asked, dropping a kiss over Asa’s heart through his t-shirt. It was such a thoughtlessly sweet gesture that he couldn’t help but reciprocate it by kissing the top of his head.

Asa squeezed him harder. He wanted to finish this shit so they could get on with their lives, whatever that looked like. But to do that, they needed to end this.

“Tonight, Lois. We go get him tonight. Let’s get back in there and make a plan.”