Chapter 2
"Not again,"
Was this guy spending his
whole LIFE in chat, or were Backstreet fans just that obsessive, she wondered.
BSBH3t4rs had gotten a good 40 reports on him, that she'd found so far, and it
was still early in the morning. Goddamn.
"Well, say bye bye," she rolled her eyes, and killed his account.
Hopefully he wouldn't sign up again. The problem with being a free service….she
could kill accounts until she was blue in the face, and this guy could keep
signing up again. All she could do was try…
**************************************************
"Lemme see?"
Nick snatched the paper out of Kevin's hands and sat down, his eyes widening as
he read. "Strangle me with my Playstation controllers?"
"I've been tempted
at times myself," Kevin admitted with a small grin.
"You're not actually
taking this seriously."
"The FBI thinks we
should."
"Do you?" Nick
raised an eyebrow curiously. "Kevin, come on. Strangle me with a
controller?"
"I am coming to get
you, Kaos," Brian ran up to Nick, a controller held tight between his
hands. "DEATH BY PLAYSTATION!!" He cackled and wrapped the cord
around Nick's neck, snickering when Nick began to act like he was choking.
"You think this is even strong enough to choke you?"
"Don't find out,
please?" Kevin pleaded with them, rolling his eyes when Nick fell onto the
floor, clutching at his neck. "This is morbid."
"Oh, damn. Someone
killed Nicky," Howie remarked with a definite lack of emotion, walking
into the room and stepping over Nick's body. "With a Playstation
controller?"
"Don't ask,"
Kevin groaned.
AJ walked into the room,
holding an envelope in his hand. His face was uncharacteristically grim, and he
barely looked at Nick strangling on the floor before handing the envelope to
Kevin. "I got this in the mail today. At HOME."
"Home?" Kevin's
eyes widened, and he looked at the envelope carefully. "Here?"
"Look at the
address," AJ waved to the envelope, and sat down, shaking his head.
"Man, how'd he get my home address?"
"She," Howie
corrected. "I thought you were so sure this was a girl."
"I ain't so sure
anymore," AJ said grimly. "No girl would think up that shit."
Kevin opened the envelope
and pulled out a piece of paper, his face paling when he read the typewritten
note. "Jesus christ," he whispered,
refolding the paper and returning it to the envelope. "We'll give this to
the FBI."
"Lemme see?"
Nick raised his hand from his spot on the floor, frowning when Kevin waved him
off. "I wanna see!"
"Not this one you
don't," Kevin shook his head slowly.
"Jesus christ is right," AJ shuddered. "What the
fuck?"
"Enough, AJ,"
Kevin said firmly.
"Let me see!"
Nick stood up and tried to grab the envelope from Kevin, glaring at him when he
held it out of reach. "Why won't you let me see? What am I, a kid?"
"Trust me, Nick, you
don't want to read it," AJ told him.
Brian rolled his eyes,
"what's the big deal? Give it to me, Kev."
Kevin stared at Brian for
a moment, before standing up and pocketing the envelope. "We shouldn't
even have opened it, the FBI can check for prints and stuff, if we don't get
our dirty paws all over it."
"But, Kevin…"
Nick whined, his eyes widening when Kevin just walked out of the room without
another word. "Hey!" He looked at AJ, frowning, "what the hell
got up his butt? I just wanted to see what stupid death this guy had planned
for you."
AJ shook his head slowly,
"that letter wasn't about me, Nicky. I still don't know what he has
planned for me."
"So? Who was it
about? And how bad could it be, if mine was death by Playstation."
AJ sighed, and ran a hand
through his hair. "It was about Brian."
"And?"
"He seems to want to
get each of us with the things we love most. You…games."
"And Brian?"
Nick prompted.
Brian's face turned
white, and he sat down heavily. "What does he think I love most, AJ?"
"What do you love
most, Brian?" AJ asked him, meeting his gaze sadly. "Or I should say,
who?"
"Leighanne,"
Brian said softly.
"Before Leighanne.
More than Leighanne. Leighanne loves him too."
Brian's mouth fell open,
"what?"
"Jesus?" AJ
said, rolling his eyes when Nick fell back to the floor with a thud. "See,
I told you this wasn't funny."
"What'd he say about
Jesus and Brian?" Nick asked, staring up at AJ.
"How did Jesus
die?" AJ asked, looking sadly at Brian.
"Oh, jesus."
"Yeah. Oh
jesus."
******************************************************************
"Goddammit,"
"Morning,
"Couldn't
sleep," he shrugged. "You're in late."
Back at her desk, coffee
in hand,
"He's back,"
she whispered to herself, shaking her head. This would make five times this
pervert had recreated his account, always with just one letter or number
different, and each time, his stories of what he intended to do to the
Backstreet Boys just got that much more graphic, more disturbing.
Her eyes widened when she
saw a URL referenced in the e-mail, and clicked on it, gasping when the webpage
opened. "Holy shit, he's insane," she gasped, covering her mouth in
disgust at the site.
The guy had taken
pictures of the Backstreet Boys and manipulated them into extremely graphic pictures
of what he intended to do to them, or so he said. On the side of the page was a
logo announcing the "Game Had Begun," and there was a link to his
"diary."
She chewed on her bottom
lip as she read the explanation of what this game was supposed to be. Torturing
the Backstreet Boys, slowly, ultimately culminating in their deaths.
They felt too protected,
so he said. They were on top of the world. He intended to bring them down.
His first strike was to
show them that he could get to them, that they weren't invincible. Not kill
them. No, he explained, he would only kill them once they knew he was
coming…once he'd "adequately," scared them. And just for the hell of
it, he wasn't going to say how he was going to be teasing them. Not really,
anyway. He suggested AJ watch his drinks carefully, Brian should make sure he
knew his pastor, Kevin, his wife, and Howie should always watch his money. Nick
should check out a certain game, for he was to be living it soon.
At the very bottom of the
page was a line that he said would let a reader know when he would strike
first, a quote from a song. "I've been watching you, you've been watching
me."
"Tommy? What's
Matt's extension?"
"Matt the
lawyer?"
"Matt the
lawyer,"
"Got something to
trademark?" Tommy jumped up and walked over to her cubicle, peering at her
monitor. "Nice wallpaper."
"Oh." Tommy was
an engineer for the company, and had been riding high ever since he'd developed
two trademarkable technologies over the last year. Trademarking, he'd learned, was fun, when your name went on
the paper. "He's 6537."
"Thanks,"
"Kill the account,"
Matt advised.
"Yeah, but he'll
just recreate,"
"What do you suggest
we do, then?" Matt's voice sounded tired as he asked the question.
"Tell the
police?"
"It's not child
pornography, is it?"
"What?"
"You said there's a
simulated rape. Is the person being raped a child? We're required by law to
report child porn to the FBI if it is."
"No, he's a
Backstreet Boy,"
"We can't tell the
police, unfortunately, it's a dangerous precedent we'd be setting if we
did."
"But, Matt, this
guy, I really think he intends to do this…"
"It makes no
difference,
"But…"
"No buts. We can't.
Kill the account."
*************************************************************************
"
"What's so
funny?" He flopped down next to her, looking at the computer screen.
"Oooh, you ARE becoming a fan!"
"Not quite,"
"The one who wants
to hurt my AJ?"
"The one who wants
to hurt all of them," she frowned. "He's starting to creep me out,
Andy, the things he says, he's thought about all of it far too much."
Andy made a face, and
rolled his eyes, "you don't really believe this guy wants to kill the
Backstreet Boys."
"Not just kill,"
she corrected. "Torture, terrify, then kill."
"Fine. That.
Please." Andy snickered, "I think your job is getting to you. Those
boys have tighter security than god, nobody's getting to them. Did I TELL you
what they're doing to the office for their party next week?"
"No…."
"Ok, well, so, you
know their tour is starting next week, right?" Andy began jabbering, his
eyes lighting up as he talked about his favorite subject. Backstreet Boys.
"Well, management, of course, is throwing a party. So they have people
doing friggin walkthroughs of the office, making sure everything's clear, we're
gonna have special badges that day, all sorts of stuff. All because it's going
to be fairly well known they're gonna be there, and all just in case. Nothing's
gonna happen
"You going to this
party?"
"What, like a silly
webmaster gets to go to the tour party? Please," he shook his head.
"No, I just get to post the pictures afterwards."
"Awww, sorry sweetie,"
"That's ok, I've
been promised backstage passes when the tour hits LA. You'll come with,
right?"
"If they're still
alive? Sure,"
"So not funny."
"Andy, I tell you,
if you'd seen this site…."
"What's the url?" Andy picked up
"I killed the
account," she closed it and returned it to the table. "All I could
do."
"I still think
you're being a spaz."
"Too much detail,
Andy, this guy has thought all this through."
"Like how?" He
challenged. "Killing Nick with playstation
controllers. Oooh, scary," he giggled. "I coulda thought of
that."
"Ok, well, using
Nick as the example?"
"So? Living out a
game sounds like fun," Andy shrugged.
"Not this
game," she said woefully.
"What game then,
darlin, tell me."
"D2."
Andy looked at her dully.
"And that is?"
"Remember that
Dreamcast game that came out a few months ago, the one that I was so offended
by?"
Andy started to laugh,
"the one with the tentacle sex?"
"It was RAPE, Andy,
it was a woman getting raped by a goddamn tentacle thing, and it was
disgusting,"
"Nick's going to
have tentacle sex?" Andy giggled, wiggling his hips. "Lucky
Nicky."
"It was rape,
Andy."
"It was just a game,
"This guy says he's
just playing a game too,"
"You're a
spaz."
"I'm afraid, is what
I am."
"So sweet,
"
"I think it's
adorable you care, but you're overreacting. This guy's just another freak
online, relax."
"I hope you're
right, Andy."
"I'm sure I am. Now,
dinner?"
"Yeah, dinner."
***