by David Morgan
Chapter 5
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. He stepped back, waiting patiently for a response.
Nothing.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. He banged louder now, sending a rattling vibration shimmying up the walls.
A creaking floor and the steady right-left vibrations of a healthy waddle echoed closer and closer before the door was pulled ajar, stopping abruptly at the length of a small chain lock.
“Can I help you?” The voice was flat and irritated. A round face appeared in the crack between the door and the wall. Squinting eyes, swollen with fat, looked up at the man in the door. Patches of wispy hair, stretching from the cheeks down to the neck glittered with orange dust, showcasing evidence of the previous days’ “meals.”
“I’m looking for Edwin Francis.”
“Never heard of him,” The chub responded. Then added, “What do you want with him?”
“I need to speak with him on a matter of most urgent importance.”
“What’s this about?” The not-Edwin demanded.
“Are you Edwin Francis?”
“Maybe. Who are you?”
“Who I am is not important, and I can’t speak of it here—but you are Edwin Francis, and I must speak with you immediately.”
“Are you with the FBI?”
“No. But I am aware of your activity with the Anonymous group.” He said, “I am aware of a great deal about you, Edwin.”
Now the fat face grew irritated, “I don’t know any Edwin—now get off my property or I’ll…” the voice trembled slightly, “…just GFY.”
The door slammed shut and the floor again creaked as floorboards buckled under the rhythm of a heavy waddle.
Behind the door, Edwin panicked. As fast as he could, which was not particularly fast, he made his way towards a large wooden box covered in naked Anime school girls with the words “Battle Station” etched on the side. Squeezing himself inside, he furiously began to move his mouse around, clicking buttons and typing commands with surprising speed.
The sweat poured down his brow when he heard a crash from the living room. The floor creaked with a steady pace that was quickly moving towards him.
It felt like a gorilla grabbed him by the shoulder, dragging him out of the battle station and throwing him across the room—something that no one had been able to do to him since he was about five. Now frightened, he struggled and kicked his feet, scrambling until his back was against the wall.
“Your name is Edwin Francis, isn’t it?”
“Don’t hurt me!” Edwin squealed, but his interlocutor had lost patience.
He grabbed the boy’s collar and lifted him to a standing position. Edwin felt the floor disappear out from under his feet as the man’s arm continued to raise him against the wall.
“Tell me who you are!”
“Yes! Yes!” The boy began to cry. “I’m Edwin!”
“Edwin who?!” The intruder demanded.
“I’m Edwin Francis—please! Whatever I did, don’t hurt me! I’ll give it back! I’ll get everything back! More than I took, I swear it!” Tears streamed down the now reddened cheeks, beading up as they flowed into patches of beard throughout several of the chins.
He dropped to the ground with a thud.
“Shut up, I’m here to protect you.”
“Protect me? From what?”
“Are you /u/pmmeyourtatas?” The stranger asked.
Edwin’s eyes grew wide.
“Are you also /u/sugarb@lls69?”
No response. Just heavy breathing. Choking.
“Are you the hacker ZestfullyBeard?!” The voice grew louder and angrier with each demand.
The heavy breathing turned into a series of choppy squeaking sounds coupled with desperate gasping. A chubby finger pointed to an inhaler on a coffee table across the room.
The man grabbed the inhaler and raised it in the air, Edwin did not doubt that this man could shatter the thing to pieces with a squeeze. “TELL ME WHO YOU ARE!” The man again demanded.
As he struggled for breath, Edwin nodded furiously, signaling his willingness to cooperate. The man tossed the inhaler to Edwin—who didn’t catch it. It tumbled to the ground as he struggled to roll over, scrambling on the floor for the lifesaving device.
When he recovered it, he choked it down greedily—puff after puff of the pressurized medicine.
The intruder walked over to Edwin, now on the floor. This slow saunter seemed far more menacing than the aggressive behavior of throwing him around. The man walked over, putting a heavy foot on the boy’s chest and pressing down. Edwin felt like his chest was going to break as the stranger leaned in and removed his sunglasses, revealing sapphire-blue eyes that shone from underneath the rugged, leather Fedora.
The intruder’s voice left no room for interpretation—he meant business. “Tell me who you are.” He said quietly.
And Edwin saw that he had been found out—he had no choice but to agree. “Please.” He trembled. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Edwin Francis. You’ve been doxed.” The voice said. “And I have good reason to believe you’re in danger.”
“What? I don’t understand.” He continued, “In danger from what?”
Before any answer was given, a shrill, cracking sound echoed through the house from upstairs. “EDWIINNNN!!!! Whutchu doin’ down there?! Ewe bes’ not be braykin’ sheet agiyen!” The thunderous demands and accusations through the living room.
“Please.” He pleaded with his attacker, motioning if it was ok to answer. The attacker stared him dead in the eyes and fed him his response.
“Everything is fine.”
“EVERYTHING’S FINE, MOM!” The boy obeyed.
“I just tripped and fell.”
“I JUST TRIPPED AND FELL!” The boy repeated, screaming to his mom.
“WILL KEEP IYET DAWEN! AM TRAYIN TO WATCH MA SOAPS!”
With that, the intruder peered down at Edwin, the latter having practically soiled himself in fright.
“Where can we talk?” The man asked, offering a hand to help up the frightened Edwin, hoisting him to his feet.
“Come with me.” And he raised his chubby arm, motioning to a door in the back corner of the room.