Key to Revenge

“As a schoolboy I was repeatedly victimised for being a short, round smartarse. So, this prompt from AuthorWorld spoke right to me. It also allowed me to express the problem with getting revenge.”

I wrote this story in answer to the following prompts:
FOWC with Fandango  — Capricious
Pensitivity’s Three Things Challenge — Magpie – Neat – Outlet
Authorworld — First Paragraph
Your Daily Word — Delegate

Key to Revenge

Following many years of bullying, putdowns and a general lack of kindness towards me, I’d reached the end of the line; the final straw, as I looked upon the biggest culprit brandishing my weapon of choice.

Darren was no longer the high school bully who made my life a misery. Now, he was the capricious delegate of the Magpie sports car outlet in our city. Somehow, while selling high-end cars to rich snobs; he still found time to victimise me on social media. That was about to end.

I looked at the device in my hands and smiled. I’d gone into working in IT and now that was about to pay off. I’d been hiding in and around the Magpie showroom for a couple of days now. Each time somebody test drove a car I smiled and pressed a couple of buttons on my device. Now, it was time for games to begin.

There was Darren in his swanky suit. I could see him through the showroom windows from my position in my own car on the roadside. He was about to close the deal on brand-new orange Italian sports car. As he reached the press the door handle button and unlocked the car, I went to work.

My car key cloner had given me access to every car’s onboard computer Magpie owned. With the tap of a couple of keys, I started the engine.

Darren flinched away looking shocked.

I press the up arrow on my keyboard. The supercar roared as it accelerated. With a gleeful smile I watched it smashed straight through the showroom window. The sound of shattering glass, buckling fibreglass and metal was music to my ears.

“What the hell happened?” yelled the customer looking terrified.

“I don’t —” Darren snapped around as another car’s alarm began blaring and flashing its lights. The large, silver executive car’s engine started and began roaring.

“Ready, arsehole! Here it comes,” I said as I remote controlled the car.

“Oh no, stop!” I heard Darren cry.  

The executive’s wheels shrieked as it raced over the marble floors, bulldozed a two-seater roadster worth a quarter million, and annihilated the once neat and tidy sales desks.

Darren ran from the remains of the showroom.

“Having a bad day, old boy,” I said to myself.

The bully jumped into his own sports car. It’s doors locked and the engine started.

I watched growing fear and panic draining the blood from his face. “Gotcha!” I began drawing circles on my mousepad.

Darren’s car responded as he began to turn tight doughnuts. The tyres screeched and smoked as the car went faster and faster. Four explosions rang out over the overheated tyres fragmented.

Only then did I relent and stop the car. I hacked the Magpie computers and left an untraceable message calling Darren out on his bullying ways. Then ensuring that rotten bully couldn’t escape until the fire brigade cut him free, I turned on my own car and drove away.

The last few minutes replayed in my mind as I negotiated the roundabout’s and drove the roads towards home. At first, I relived the moment with glee. My vengeance had been so sweet trashing those cars and scaring the hell out of that rotten bully. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. Those cars belong to the company not Darren, I’d cost them a fortune not him. This wooden teaching the lesson. It didn’t make what he’d done to me right either. Nothing would. I learned a valuable lesson that day. Bullies always win. There was never a proper way to beat them that would leave you feeling good about it. In fact, the only real way to claim victory; is to completely ignore them until I go away. That way, it’s them who get frustrated and upset not you.

The End


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