Slice

Technology, the killer’s weapon of choice. Wielded with utmost accuracy and skill. Many would refer to the killer as an artist, but the resulting works are nothing short of horrific.

As the work day draws to a close, a wealthy businessman with a penchant for fabricating the truth is finishing his report. He types furiously on his computer, doing the unthinkable. He’s renowned for his misconduct. No one likes him. For his dubious choices have resulted in countless innocent deaths. However, the corporation enforces a blind eye. Business is business, and positive drug trial results mean less sidelined drugs.

Today will be his last day alive.

The killer is familiar with the businessman’s schedule, everything, from the toast, peanut butter and blueberries he has for breakfast to the double shot of scotch whisky he consumes before watching porn at night.

The killer knows in five minutes he’ll be entering elevator 2 on the 14th floor. A device needs be planted on the businessman without the victim’s knowledge, with ample time before its activation.

As the businessman walks towards the elevator, he hears someone call out to him. “Mr Lowe, excuse me, sir!” He turns to see a young pretty lady rushing towards him. She knocks into his side, flustered, she tries to stop her stack of papers from flying to the floor. She fails. “Can I have a moment of your time? Sh says unsettled. “I work in the Research and Development department, and I wanted to discuss the latest drug trial with you. It’s regarding Biosetic that we’re testing?” she asks.

The businessman hesitates for a moment, looks at the papers strewn on the floor and shakes his head. “No, I’m in a hurry. Clean up your mess.” he says, stepping over the papers and into the elevator.

As the doors close, the woman sighs and shakes her head. “Just as I thought. What a dick.” she mutters to herself.

The businessman leans against the back wall of the elevator, checking his phone for the time. He has a dinner date at 7pm, another potential partner he probably won’t commit to. Suddenly, he feels a sharp pain in his arm. He looks down to see a device wrapped around his wrist. It’s metal, sealed with no clasp. Before he can even react, a countdown starts on the device. Twenty seconds. He has no clue what the device is, but instinct tells him to get it off NOW!

“Twenty fucking seconds...I have twenty seconds to do what?” he shouts to himself, frantically trying to pry the device off his wrist. “What the Fuck is this thing?” Utter panic sets in. “Oh Shit.” The countdown continues to ten. “Come on, come on... think!” he urges himself, desperately looking around. Five. He’s trapped, a wooden box in controlled free fall with not a soul to help. The countdown reaches two, then one. He feels an immeasurable pain in every part of his body. It’s excruciating. “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.” The wooden walls of the elevator shift, transforming, swapping for somewhere else. It feels as if all his limbs are being torn apart in every direction. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME…..?!? Zero.

An inward spiral of light fills the elevator and collapses into itself. He’s gone. Nothing lingering apart from the faint smell of somewhere else.

Officer Rodriguez is sitting at his desk, staring at the computer. He’s trying to decide on new sneakers for his recent gym membership. This year he’s determined to work off that puppy fat. He’s nearly the size of his partner, Beckman and that’s not good. Out of nowhere, he hears a loud thud behind him. He spins around to see the businessman’s dismembered arm lying on the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” Rodriguez exclaims, jumping to his feet. He rushes over to the body part, assessing what just happened. He’s in his office, alone. No one has come in or out. The windows locked and the door is closed. The arm is perfectly severed and cauterised at the shoulder socket with the suit sleeve fitted snugly to the limb. The device around his wrist is peeking out from under the cuff as Mr Lowe’s fingers twitch in a random pattern.

“What the hell is going on here” Rodriguez says to himself as he opens the door and shouts for backup. “We’ve got a body part here, completely dismembered, and I have no idea how it got into my fuckin’ office!!”

He pulls back the suit sleeve, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t even know where to begin with this one.”

One by one, body parts materialise from thin air in various locations. The bottom half of a leg drops from nowhere onto the front desk at Precinct 7. A head slams to the floor in an interrogation room at Precinct 53, that one leaves a nasty mess. A torso smashes through the windscreen of a patrol car outside Precinct 15. Sections of Mr Lowe are materialising out of nowhere all over police precincts in District 3. It’s utter chaos.

Officer Rodriguez lifts the businessman’s twitchy hand and examines the device closely. It’s unlike anything he has seen before. The device is all metal, sealed and solid, with no clasp or way to open it. There’s a tiny marking on the outer edge, but he can’t make it out. He tries pressing different areas, pulling on it, shaking, but it doesn’t budge.

Suddenly, a translucent screen in the device illuminates reading “Teleportation Complete.”

“Teleportation device? No way!” The bracelet must have transported the businessman’s arm to his office. But why him? Why just an arm? Where’s the rest of this guy.

His partner, Officer Beckman, rushes into the room.

“Is this a joke?” he gasps, sweating from the short run up the hallway. “WHAT THE FUCK?” Beckman shouts, peering over his shoulder.

“It’s some suit’s arm with a type of teleportation device attached to it.” Rodriguez replies, still studying the metal bracelet.

Beckman raises an eyebrow. “Holy shit, a teleportation device in District 3? And that small! You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I was,” Rodriguez says, shaking his head. “Someone either totally fucked up teleporting themselves in District 1 or we have a murderer slicing up people and air mailing their parts to the police.”

Beckman nods slowly. “So, we’re dealing with some kind of high-tech assassin, or this prick pressed the dismember button on his pompous D1 travel gear. Great! I now have to add teleportation devices to my ever-growing list of ‘New Ways To Die’.”

Copyright © 2023. All rights reserved