What Happens In Mayrose: The Story Of Stacy Green

Chapter Twenty-One

"I'm gonna ask you one more time... what the hell are they up to?"

Mr.Benson could barely see. They'd shattered his glasses after they tied him up. Now his wrists were burning from how tight the rope was, and his forehead glistened with sweat as a bight light beamed in his face.

"For the last time, I don't kno- " WHACK!

He could feel the full force of a fist hitting his left cheek, his teeth chattering as if they were loosened. He could barely see, his eye getting more and more swollen from every blow, but he could hear the vile cackles of the pricks who were behind all of this. Now they were merely blurry bodies and faces in his sight. The main one walked up to him.

"You're making this harder for yourself, old man." Mr.Benson could hear the disturbing pleasure within the guy's voice. The joy he felt  watching someone in immense pain, as if his screams were this guy's soothing lullaby. "You better start talking, or your gut is next." He could hear the sound of cracking knuckles.

"L-Look-" His voice was gravelly and weak, the flesh surrounding his lips throbbing in agony. "I-I've given you what you wanted. Stacy has been a-abolished from all e-existing records. What m-more do you want?"

He watched as the blurry guy's face tilted at a slanted angle, and a menacing grin curled on his face. He leaned it closer to Mr.Benson's ear, the atmosphere silent around them. "I want everything. I want this town to fall to my shoes, and worship me. I want the one thing my dynasty could never get, because they were and still are in my way. Power." Mr.Benson could feel the guy going behind his chair, and fingertips ever so lightly touching his shoulders, making him jump. "So, unless you want my men to break every goddamn bone in your body, I suggest you spit it out. Where the hell are they going?!"

Mr.Benson stayed quiet.

The guy gave him one more condescending look. "Do his gut, Johnny."

Before he could even take another breath, he felt a strong force strike his abdomen, resulting in him letting out a loud shriek of affliction. He could feel the soreness leaking to all different parts of his body, leaving him aching in place.

"It's only gonna get worse from here, professor! Start talking!"

"Alright!," he bawled, his face now drenched in sweat. Tears streaked his cheeks, some containing drips of blood from his wilted eyes. "T-They talked about going to visit Mr.Monson at the h-hospital for further q-questioning. Said they n-needed information from someone on the I-inside. B-But that's all I know." He didn't hear a response from the guy. He held his breath, preparing himself for another punch. Nothing.

He then heard the guy's footsteps slowly walk away from him, giving him just a few seconds of relief.

"Tell them their time is up. The device needs to be finished by midnight tonight."

The doubtful voice of who Mr.Benson assumed was Johnny replied, "But, boss, they're still uncertain of it's success. They haven't even had a proper test subject."

Mr.Benson heard another snicker. He fluttered his blistering eye, trying to gain at least some of his eyesight back. It was merely halfway open, but that was all he needed to see the scheming smirk forming on his face.

"Well, now you do. Go get the machine."

Johnny nodded, and lumbered out the door, leaving Mr.Benson alone with the mystery guy in complete silence.

The guy's back was turned to him, looking at a completely blank wall. "They really think they can stop me. Ruin everything I've meticulously worked on in the matter of a day. So sad."