#evil norman

Norman’s lips tightened. Yes, indeed. It had worked—for a while. It would still be working now if it wasn’t for the new variable in the equation!

Should have killed that little bitch when she first showed up.

Yes, well, too late now. At least for another two years. Then he could reevaluate the situation and decide if she needed to die. Right now—right now that was impossible.

There was a timid knock on his door as he heard Harry call out, “Father? You wanted to see me?” The voice was timid and a little frightened.

That’s a good sign. It means he respects us.

“Come in,” ordered Norman. The door opened and his son walked in. Norman stared at the boy. He looked like a younger version of Norman himself; there was no doubt who his father was to the casual eye.

Norman walked over to his desk and turned to look at his son, arms crossed over his chest as he regarded the boy. After a few moments of the silent staring Harry began shifting nervously in place, as Norman knew he would. “Did you honestly think,” Norman demanded with cold fury, “you could do this?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He stared at his father and something more entered the slightly frightened expression. Something Norman had never seen on the boy’s face before.

Something Norman felt every day.

“I know you hate me,” Harry said. “I may have never figured out why, but I know you hate me.”

Norman sighed. This new variable had pushed Harry too far, past the point of no return. The boy was useless to him now. He could just cut the tie and let the idiot find out—but no. No, he would not let that bitch win!

She deserved her death.

She deserved more than that. Still, that was in the past. Her body would never be found.

“I think,” Norman said coldly, “that you are operating under a misunderstanding.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He knew they had no idea just how delicate the system was, or how much control he had over it. “I do not hate you,” he told his offspring just before inputting the command that made the boy double over in pain as his artificial heart sent out a calculated half a milliliter of glutamate into his system. Norman wanted to teach the boy a lesson, not cripple him. Cripples were no use to anyone.