The Harbinger of Vengeance: A Revenge Thriller

by Jon Athan

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it, but is that all?”

  “That's everything on the shopping list, sure. After checking out, you're going to call me. Not after you leave while you're in the car driving home, directly after you purchase everything. That's when the challenge will truly begin and I'll fill you in on everything else. It's simple.”

  Shawn sighed from the disappointing response. He tried digging for more information, but he always hit stone. Aiden was an impenetrable rock, impossible to shatter or budge. His personality from high school had drastically changed – his spine had finally grown.

  Shawn said, “Fine. I'll go and buy the supplies. But, Aiden, we agreed on something. Physical pain before humiliation, right? That's a... that's a verbal contract. If you break that promise, I swear, I'll come back and break your jaw. I'm warning you.”

  Aiden chuckled, then responded, “I don't think you're in any position to threaten me, Shawn. We both agreed on the terms. There is no backing out. There won't be any... betrayals. You just follow my orders. Just call me when you're done shopping, then your physical challenge will begin.”

  Shawn glared at Aiden, his fury evident from his glistering eyes and bulging veins. Yet, his options were limited. A beating was off the table until he found his own leverage. Shawn stood up from his seat, then stomped through the arch entrance. He stopped as knocking reverberated from over his shoulder.

  As Shawn turned towards him, Aiden said, “You're not taking this challenge very seriously and I don't like that. How do you intend on calling me if you don't have my damn number? If you walked out of that door without asking, the game would have been over. I'd be gone by the time you returned. Your life would be ruined. You need to start thinking, you damn moron.”

  Shawn huffed and bit his bottom lip as he endured the verbal assault. As much as he wanted to pummel Aiden, he knew he had to bite his tongue and play the game by his rules. The consequences of failure were unacceptable.

  Shawn nodded and said, “You're right, Aiden. You're right, just like always...” He pulled his black touchscreen cellphone from his pocket and asked, “So, what's your number?”

  Aiden grinned from ear-to-ear and responded, “Don't worry about it. I've got your number, I'll text it to you.” As Shawn rolled his eyes and turned towards the door, Aiden warned, “And, Shawn, don't try anything stupid. I know your cheating and bullying got you into this mess, but, remember, your wife's home. You're a selfish man, but please don't jeopardize her safety for yourself. Don't force my hand.”

  Shawn sternly said, “Don't you dare lay a finger on her. You hear me?”

  “That's going to be entirely up to you. Now, let's get started.”

  Shawn clenched his jaw as he glanced at the staircase directly ahead. A concern for Maribel's safety had finally emerged in his mind, vaulting over his own egotistical worries. One wrong move could ruin his career, destroy his family, harm Maribel, and shatter his arrogant psyche. His life was on the line. Shawn reluctantly departed.

  ***

  The wheels howled as the sedan skidded to a stop in the barren parking lot of the small market. The car stopped in the space directly in front of the sliding doors. Plastic bags, empty food wrappers and losing lottery tickets were sprawled across the ground. A gentle gust of breeze caressed the littered garbage, momentarily whisking it away – like lint in a wallet, it would inevitably return.

  Shawn hopped out of the car, then scurried into the market. His black boots thudded on the pristine tile flooring, each step echoing through the small shop. The dazzling fluorescent lighting gleamed on his moist brow, the droplets of sweat shining like a beacons of illumination. An aromatic smell danced through the empty aisles – a delightful scent reminiscent of nature.

  The small market was obviously proud of its quality produce. Yet, the customers were nearly nonexistent. Only a sparse patron dallied down the aisles. The sound of thudding shoes and clacking high heels echoed through the market, but the bodies were absent. Perhaps the ghosts of distraught workers and fastidious shoppers lingered in the store.

  Shawn turned down the first aisle to his right. There were several barbecuing and general cooking tools hanging from the wall. Shawn quickly ran his eyes through the available products. To his utter dismay, each tool was unusually daunting. The stainless-steel cooking utensils suddenly appeared as wicked torture devices, each more heinous than the last.

  Shawn grabbed a three-piece set including stainless-steel tongs, a durable spatula, and a serrated fork – an armory of torturous tools disguised as a harmless set of grilling supplies. He shuddered as he pondered the idea. The horrifying thought seemed preposterous, but he could not shrug it off with ease – it lingered at the back of his mind like a tumor.

  Shawn furrowed his brow and whispered, “What the hell are you planning, Aiden? Why the hell would you need all of this crap? Why?”

  Shawn continued his mission, gripping the set of tools near his chest. He walked down each aisle, skimming through the available products. Finding the kosher salt, the garlic, and the black peppercorns was more difficult than he had imagined, especially with his mind constantly meandering into terrifying territory.

  As he sauntered down an aisle, Shawn whispered, “What are you going to serve me, Aiden? What is the final challenge? What is it?” He stopped and gazed at the kosher salt and black peppercorns. As he picked out the products, Shawn murmured, “What? Huh? You're going to serve me your... your genitalia? Is that it? Is that vengeance, you sick bastard? Serving me a link of sausage and some eggs, right?”

  Shawn stopped his vile muttering and froze in place. He gritted his teeth and swallowed the lump in his throat. The goosebumps across his skin shimmered with the bright light. He could feel a pair of eyes piercing into him – a deprecating set of eyes.

  As he scowled, Shawn turned towards his spectator and shouted, “What do you want from me?!”

  His scowl immediately vanished as he staggered in reverse. A frail elderly woman stood behind him. She grimaced in absolute disgust. Her grizzled hair was permed to her liking. Her cavernous wrinkles were furrowed, her blue eyes were filled with revulsion, and her petite body trembled from the shock.

  Shawn nervously smiled and said, “I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else. I thought...”

  The woman huffed and rolled her eyes. She lifted her jaw towards the ceiling, then strolled away with her shopping cart. Her long floral pattern dress swayed with her angry strut. The woman had clearly overheard Shawn's deplorable suggestion – genitalia for dinner.

  As he watched the upset woman, Shawn whispered, “Well, maybe I shouldn't be talking to myself at the market. I think I just embarrassed myself anyway...”

  Shawn found the garlic cloves in the same aisle. He perambulated through the market, moseying towards the checkout counter. He cherished every second, soaking in the tranquility before the storm. The checkout process was regular.

  Shawn met the young, peppy clerk with a smile. The young brunette stood five-three. She donned a black polo shirt, tight black pants, and black work shoes. Her hair was tied in a neat ponytail. Her twinkling brown eyes and tender lips were hypnotizing – the type of woman he adored.

  He thought about Maribel as he fought the urge to flirt; he thought about Aiden as he brawled with the desire to chitchat about his purchase. He couldn't risk blurting out his thoughts – sausage and eggs clung to his mind. Yet, Shawn found himself losing the battle against his powerful ego. He made sure to flaunt the wad of cash in his wallet as he paid.

  As he handed the clerk a fifty-dollar bill, Shawn winked and said, “Keep the change.”

  The woman seductively smiled and responded, “Thank you, sir. I hope I see you again soon.”

  With his bag in hand, Shawn walked out of the store with his chest out and head high. He grinned from ear-to-ear, a smile of grand self-importance. He was immensely pleased with himself. The stroking of his ego was gratifying. He hopped into the driver's seat and carelessly tossed the b
ag on the neighboring floorboards. The car purred like a cat as the engine started.

  Over the quiet hum, Shawn whispered, “Shit, I have to call him...”

  He retrieved his phone and found the promised text message conveniently waiting for his eyes. The message simply delivered a phone number and a derisive smiley face. It was a very snide and simple note from Aiden.

  ***

  With the phone planted on his rosy ear, Shawn said, “I'm done. I bought everything you asked me to buy. Can I come home?”

  Aiden responded, “Who's this?”

  “Damn it, Aiden! Stop playing with me! You know who I am! You told me to call you when...”

  Aiden maniacally chuckled, then said, “Calm down, Shawn, I'm kidding. I'm trying to lighten the mood before we really get started. Look, it took you longer than I thought, but at least you got it done. Now, it's time for your first challenge. Do you see two gangbangers by the gasoline station?”

  Shawn sighed, then leaned forward in his seat. With his sturdy chest on the steering wheel, Shawn peered towards the neighboring gasoline station. Aiden was correct. Two young men loitered in front of the store.

  The men wore large white t-shirts, baggy blue jeans, and white sneakers. The taller man, standing six-two, had his head shaved down to the skin. The shorter man, standing a respectable five-eight, had a buzz cut on his dome and a thin beard. The men indistinctly bickered and bantered, watching as customers scurried in-and-out of the gas station.

  Shawn nodded and responded, “I see two guys out there. I don't know if they're gangbangers, but whatever. What about them?”

  Aiden explained, “You're going to walk up to them and tell them exactly what I tell you. Don't you even dare lower the phone or flub a line. Exactly what I tell you. You're a much bigger man than me and you've only gotten bigger with the years. If they try to fight you, don't fight back. Remember, you are me now. You're the bullied.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. You... You want me to... You want me to antagonize them? Are you kidding me? Why? I never made you fight some random thugs.”

  Aiden responded, “You'll see, Shawn. Just say exactly what I say and I'm certain it'll spark a memory for you.”

  Shawn sighed as he despondently gazed towards his groin and browsed his cluttered memories. He could not find the source of the challenge. He could not recollect a familiar event. His mind was clouded by a bank of impenetrable fog. Doubt surrounded him from every corner.

  Shawn said, “Okay. I'll do it.”

  Aiden responded, “Good boy...”

  Shawn breathed heavily as he lumbered towards the gasoline station. Each step was graceless and awkward, his haughty confidence rapidly dwindled. As he approached, the young men glared at their uninvited guest. With his feet firmly planted on the cement, Shawn stopped a mere two meters from the unruly duo.

  Shawn said, “Hello. How are you doing tonight?”

  Over the phone, Aiden said, “Shut up. I didn't tell you to talk yet, Shawn.”

  Before Shawn could respond to Aiden, the tall young man asked, “What the hell do you want?”

  Shawn clenched his jaw and waited for Aiden's instructions. Aiden did not respond, only his childish snickering could be heard through the phone. Shawn stood his ground and waited, silently standing and avoiding eye contact. The men glanced at each other with furrowed brows, then turned back towards Shawn.

  Aiden said, “Okay, okay, enough games. Repeat everything I say...”

  Shawn swallowed loudly, then said, “Hello, I'm new around here. You guys wouldn't happen to know where I can find a bathroom, would you?”

  The shorter man smiled and asked, “What the fuck are you talking about, man? What do you want?”

  Shawn frowned as he listened, then repeated, “I'm... I'm just looking for a bathroom. That's all.”

  The tall man shrugged and responded, “Go ask the cashier for a key, buddy, there's one around the corner. Go, get out of here. Fucking creep.”

  Shawn bit his bottom lip and nodded as he listened to Aiden's devious words. He croaked and grunted as he struggled to repeat Aiden's instructed line. The men shrugged as they glanced towards each other, baffled by Shawn's erratic behavior.

  Shawn sighed, then said, “That's the... That's the same bathroom with a glory hole, right?” The men walked in reverse as they contemplated the tasteless question. Shawn bit his bottom lip, then continued, “Yeah, I've heard of a glory hole before, but I've never seen one. Do you actually think they do it in there? You know, you think they have sex in there? Isn't it a little weird? A little dirty?”

  The men erupted into a guffaw, slapping their knees and holding their abdomens. As he recomposed himself, the short man asked, “What the hell are you talking about, man? Really, what the fuck? Are you off your meds or some shit? What the hell do you want?”

  Shawn's eyes swelled with tears as he listened to Aiden's calm voice. His bottom lip quivered and his legs wobbled from the sudden apprehension. A burst of memories surged through his mind – he recognized the dialogue. The setting had changed, but the colloquy remained the same. Shawn feared the ineluctable conclusion. He sniffled, then gazed at the tall thug.

  Shawn said, “I heard there's... I heard there was a glory hole in the bathroom. It sounds pretty cool. Do you... Do you want to go see it with me? You want to go check it out, Shawn?”

  “Shawn?” the tall man repeated in a dubious tone. “Who the fuck is Shawn?”

  The short man jostled forward, violently shoving Shawn with his brutish might. Shawn tumbled to the floor. His buttocks and palms slid across the gravelly ground. The phone landed a meter away from him – scuffed but intact. Shawn didn't bother to stand. He knew he would be knocked over within a second.

  Fuming with vexation, the short man stood over Shawn and shouted, “Who the hell do you think you are?! Don't you ever come over here disrespecting us! Do you know where you are?! Do you know whose territory this is? This is my fucking hood! This is my territory! You hear me?”

  Shawn tightly shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around his head. The young men savagely pummeled Shawn. In the fetal position, Shawn endured the barrage of ferocious punches and kicks, helplessly trying to protect himself without fighting back. He refused to aggravate the situation.

  His stomach tightened from the fast and pricking jabs. A skull-rattling stomp slid through his defense and smashed the right side of his dome, momentarily dazing him. The taller gangbanger punted Shawn's face like a football. The clobbering was endless – seconds felt like minutes.

  As the senseless beating continued, the shorter man hopped back and said, “Fuck this...”

  The man lifted his loose white t-shirt and revealed the handle of a Glock 36 handgun. As he reached for the firearm, a door chime and a muffled shout echoed through the vacant streets. The brutal walloping stopped. A barrage of scurrying footsteps followed, diminishing with the passing seconds. For Shawn, the clanging bell was like a tocsin at Heaven's gate – a signal of his arrival. Shawn's grandiose fantasy was quickly shattered.

  From the gasoline station, a stout middle-aged man with thin gray hair shouted, “Hey! You okay out there?!”

  Shawn straightened his body, then sat up. He glanced towards his savior. From the red polo shirt, khaki pants, and black work shoes, he could see he owed his gratitude to the gasoline station's clerk. Shawn simply waved as he staggered to his feet. He swiped the blood trickling down his brow, then grabbed his cellphone.

  As he stumbled towards his sedan, Shawn said, “I... I did it. It's over.”

  Aiden cackled uncontrollably. His laugh was a garble of noise over the phone. His sheer enjoyment and satisfaction were evident. Shawn shook his head and huffed. He wiped his bloodied hands on his grimy khaki pants, then sat in the driver's seat.

  Aiden said, “I'm sorry about that. It's just... Wow, I could hear all of it. I mean, I heard everything. I thought you'd lose connection or the phone would break, but... Wow, we are lucky! We sure got the ball rollin
g with this one.”

  Shawn slumped his head back and shut his eyes. He asked, “Can I come home now?” There was no response. Shawn sniffled and pleaded, “Pl–Please... Please, let me come home. Aiden, I'm sorry. Let's talk about this...”

  Aiden interrupted, “Sure, Shawn, come on home. We've got a lot to do.”

  Chapter Six

  The Second Challenge – The Pencil Game

  The front door squealed, echoing through the home like a rat's squeak in an empty auditorium. The floorboards groaned from the slow and heavy steps. Shawn shambled into the house, holding the bag of supplies in his right hand and rubbing his eyes with his left. He shut the door behind him, then turned towards the kitchen arch entrance. Aiden sat on his throne with his left leg crossed over his right. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and streamed down his cheeks.

  Aiden smiled and said, “Welcome home, Shawn.”

  Shawn tossed the bag on the table, then asked, “What's wrong with you? Why are you sweating so much?”

  Aiden puckered his lips and shrugged. He said, “I don't know. It could be a myriad of things. It's stuffy. It's hot. I was working out. You know, doing some heavy lifting. It could be anything, really. But, don't you worry about that now. We should tend to business.”

  Shawn flumped into his seat. His head swayed from the exhaustion. Every inch of his body ached from the savage beating. The near-death experience lingered at the back of his mind, staining his thoughts with melancholy and regret. The mere memory of the man's firearm sent chills down his spine. He saw the face of death and barely survived.