After what happened to his room Fletcher did not hesitate to act upon his dare. He was fuming. First and foremost he headed to the science wing to retrieve Lizaâs science project. It was a signal jammer, but with a few tweaks he could easily turn it into a an instrument to stop the car alarms from going off. Using his phone as a flashlight, he found Lizaâs project and the tools he needed to alter it to do his bidding. He sat at the desk with only his phone as a light, working on the alterations. It was almost three in the morning when he finally finished. The dark circles under his eyes only brought out his twisted grin. On his way out, he stopped by the cafeteria, and a few other rooms for various supplies.
It was only fitting that he found the cars gathered together like their own little pretentious parking lot. The only car that was missing was Jacksonâs. Fletcher had it that day so he could get to work and back. He parked it closer to Jacksonâs dorm room so heâd have to leave that one for last. With him was his baseball bat, motorcycle gloves, Lizaâs signal jammer, and his bag of surprises. Placing the items down next to one of the large cement beams, he set up the now altered signal jammer and turned it on.Â
First car up belonged to their captain, Thomas Knight. He flipped the knife around in his hand before lunging forward âAgh ! â He shouted as the knife pierced the first tire in one smooth slash. The size of the cut was big enough that the air didnât hiss out, instead the body of the car immediately fell to the side. Fletcher repeated this until all four tires were ruined. Next he took his bat and smashed the side mirrors, tail lights, and head lights. âFuck youâ he exhaled with each wing. Every time his bat hit metal he got more and more fired up, as if this act of violence wasnât just performed on the body of the car but on the person whoâs car he was destroying.Â
With each hit, he felt satisfaction shoot up his spine. Could being so unreasonably cruel actually give him a sense of power? This went against everything he knew. Everything his parents taught him. He was a peaceful child, never hurt anything in his life and now look. Jaded by his fellow peers, pushed to the brink of bitterness and seeking vengeance. He bashed in one of the back windows, only to open the door and fill the car with leftover fish he found in the cafeteria and fill the air ducts with glitter. Fletcher wanted to make sure that it wasnât only cosmetic damage he was causing. No, after this the team would be forced to retire their vehicles for good.Â
Once all the strategic elements were completed on each of the cars, he took his bat to the car bodies for good measure. As a finishing touch Fletcher wrote a degrading nick name on each of the playerâs cars with the knife.Â
Sweat dripped down his neck as he made his way to his friendâs car. He shifted his weight from side to side. The first time heâd shown any hesitation the entire night. Knowing heâd suffer the consequences for not completing the dare, he replaced fond memories with flashbacks of his duct taping incident and was immediately enraged all over again. His fist clenched his bat and he began to swing. Caught up in the moment he forgot to turn on the signal jammer and Jacksonâs alarms began to blare. FUCK. If Fletcher wasnât mad a moment ago, he was now. This time at himself rather than anyone else. âShit ! â He quickly sprinted to the nearest dumpster to ditch any and all evidence. It would of been a clean get away if some of the left over glitter didnât get on his shirt, forcing him to throw that in the dumpster as well.Â
Fletcher never looked back as he made his way inside. âAgh ! â He exclaimed out of frustration, slamming his fist against the wall.Â
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