Free Web NovelChapter 5: Ch 5: Terror Rise I
Great news — Luke had actually gotten his hands on a gun.
And even better, he had found the perfect location for his terror stream.
After snatching the weapon from that unlucky low-level grunt, Luke spent the next week quietly training with it. He practiced drawing, aiming, and handling the gun in his room whenever the house was empty.
In between dry-firing sessions, he also spent hours thinking through every detail of his plan.
Still, though, he can’t shake off that anxious feeling in his chest.
That night a week ago had been one of the most stressful moments of his life.
As a completely ordinary guy from his previous world, it had taken every ounce of courage he had just to sneak up on that man and knock him out.
He’d been terrified of hitting too hard — one solid blow to the head could easily kill someone. His hands had been shaking the entire time.
Thankfully, luck had been on his side. The strike was just hard enough to put the guy out cold without doing any real damage. Luke had even checked the grunt’s pulse twice, and there wasn’t a drop of blood. The man was still breathing normally. He’d be fine — probably just wake up with a killer headache and a missing gun.
But that experience taught him something. He needs to steel his heart for the upcoming days. And he needs to be ruthless.
The Marvel was a dangerous universe, especially this kind, where X-Men and who knows what other secret elements existed. If not an alien invasion, then a random weekly villain may really well slime your whole bloodline out.
Luke had to adapt. He had to get stronger... and since he was given an opportunity, he was gonna use it.
Now, after a full week of preparation, tonight was the night.
The location was locked in. A small, late-night convenience store on the edge of town in an alley. Low foot traffic after 9 PM. Two exits. Three cameras that he’d already scouted, but honestly, cameras were irrelevant.
He was a special kind of streamer. The kind with an app for that.
He opened T-Stream on his phone and tapped the Terror Tools icon. It was basically a cheat code for aspiring supervillains: anti-surveillance, auto-hacking, digital ghosting. But other than anti-surveilance, other tools were locked right now.
He activated the anti-surveillance mode. His heart gave a heavy, insistent kick against his ribs.
He stared at his backpack. Besides the usual supplies, it held a special unexpected item he’d found at that low-level grunt’s house. He allowed himself a dry little smile. That one was going to be fun.
Time to go...
At exactly 10:47 p.m., Luke walked into the store.
Black hoodie, a standard surgical mask, dark glasses, backpack slung behind him, the gun securely tucked under the hoodie.
The look earned him an instant, extended stare from the cashier and a second, narrower stare from the guy restocking a shelf. Luke ignored them completely and began to browse, roaming the narrow aisles as if he were just another night owl picking up milk.
Two young women were already there, browsing through the ready-to-eat meals. He knew them. They worked sales at a super-exploitative corporation, and they always bought the same microwavable sadness after their shifts. He’d stalked them, most of it was online and a two alternate day following after work. Just enough to know their schedule.
There was supposed to be one more regular. A guy who usually wandered in around now, predictable as clockwork.
10 minutes had already passed since Luke entered, and there were still no signs of him.
Only tonight, the bastard had decided not to come. Luke picked up a carton of milk and watched the door. Nothing. The women were already wrapping up.
The store felt depressingly empty. Four targets total. That was not it. Too few for the system’s quota.
’Damn it. Am I really going to have to cancel?’
Sigh. Maybe he should just pay for the milk and leave. Do it another day.
He walked to the counter, and soon the women also queued up behind him. Cashed out with exact change, dead-eyed and silent. As luke waited for the cashier to scan the items, he heard the entry door open... Behind the mask, Luke’s mouth curved.
The cashier handed over the milk in a thin plastic bag, visibly relieved.
The weirdo had just bought milk. Sometimes people had strange hobbies. The cashier thought while setting his suspicion aside—a grave, very human mistake.
Luke turned.
A man, maybe twenty-seven, stepped inside. Average build, not that much of a threat. And behind him, a pregnant woman, already scanning the shop with tired interest.
’Well, well. New customer, he even brought a plus-one.’
A pregnant hostage. She wasn’t trouble. She was perfection. With her as leverage, it would be easier to threaten the man when Luke begins.
Six people now, not counting himself. Three men, three women. A balanced cast. The numbers had fixed themselves.
Luke walked toward the exit—then stopped. From his hoodie, he produced the joker mask and pulled it over his face. A quick tug on a lever, and the store’s security shutter crashed down with a clatter that cut through the sleepy pop music.
"The hell?"
"Why’d he close the shutter?"
"Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?"
Jim, the stockboy, marched forward, looking mad enough to swing. The cashier jumped over the counter to back him up.
Luke’s hand slipped under his hoodie and pulled the gun. He leveled it at Jim’s chest.
"Jim," he said, his voice calm as a recorded announcement. "I suggest you stop right where you are."
Jim stopped. The cashier froze. The customers panicked!
"Everyone!" Luke’s voice cracked upward, sharp with command. "Get on your knees! Now!"
Luke knew he had very few seconds to establish control. He walked straight at Jim, shoved him back, spun him around, and marched him toward the counter like a misbehaving student.
"I said—" another shove, harder, gun sweeping across the room "—get on your fucking knees!"
"Hey, man, just let us leave, alright? What have we ever done to you?"
The man with the pregnant woman had edged half a step in front of her, one arm held out as if that could shield her from a bullet. His voice cracked on done.
The cashier seized the opening. "Hey, hey—calm down. Take everything you need and just go. We won’t tell anyone, I swear. Come on."
They were speaking out of turn, they could try to struggle, and that... could be dangerous, he had to control them, he needed to put fear in them, and just flaying the gun wasn’t working.
Luke tilted his head. Behind the Joker mask, his expression was unreadable, but his voice came out flat and slow, the kind of calm that prickles the skin more than a scream.
Luke tilted his head. Under the Joker mask, his face was blank. "Didn’t you hear me? Knees. Now."
He pulled the trigger.
BANG.
The gunshot blew a hole in the ceiling tiles. The sound was deafening in the small space.
The two buildings neighbouring the store were empty. But even if luck wasn’t on his side and somebody reports it, even then it would take more than 15 minutes for the cops to arrive. Even time for the mission.
Firing the gun was a necessary, calculated risk that Luke had to take; this would cement the gravity of the situation into the hearts of these people.
Just as expected, the warning shot had worked.
The two young women shrieked and crumpled instantly. The men dropped, knees cracking against the linoleum, hands flying to the tops of their heads. The pregnant woman sank down with a soft, terrified sob, her husband crouching beside her.
Without taking his eyes off the group, Luke pulled his backpack forward, unzipped it one-handed, and pulled something free. He held it up between thumb and forefinger, letting it dangle.
A block of putty, wires, a crude digital timer. Hardly sophisticated, but unmistakable.
"You all know what this is."
No one spoke. The color drained from their faces. The pregnant woman’s breath hitched in her throat. Jim, still on his knees, stared at the device as if it were a living thing.
Luke let the silence stretch, tasted the raw fear thickening the air, and then he tucked the bomb carefully back into the pack.
He zipped it shut, walked forward, and tossed the backpack into the huddle of hostages. It landed with a soft thud that made everyone flinch.
"The remote is in my hand. Disobey, and we all go up."
The cashier broke. "Please—why are you doing this? We’re a tiny store, we’ve got nothing. For God’s sake, that woman is pregnant. At least let her go. Please." freewebnσvel.cѳm
’That’s a smart one,"
Luke’s gun hand shifted, the muzzle drifting until it rested dead-center on the cashier’s forehead.
"Larry," he said, and the name landed like a blade. "If I hear another word out of your mouth, I will shoot you where you kneel. Then I will drive straight to Woodben Street and pay a visit to your dear wife Linda, and both your daughters. Do you understand me?"
Larry’s eyes went wide with pure horror. He opened his mouth to ask how do you know that—but Luke just raised a finger to the painted grin on his mask.
Shhh.
The sound died in Larry’s throat. A cold, visceral dread crawled down his spine, and every person in the store felt it second-hand. This was not a bluff. This man knew their names, their families, their homes—and he was utterly, terrifyingly serious.
No one else made a sound. The hostages folded in on themselves.
Control was established.
Luke glanced at the time. One minute and twenty seconds since the shutter had slammed down.
He’d started the stream six minutes earlier, phone already streaming from its perch in the refrigerated shelf (he placed it there when he was browsing for milk earlier), but he wasn’t sure how Terror duration was tallied.
Better to count from the moment the real hostage situation began. Fifteen minutes to hold them. Fifteen minutes to build the kind of fear that the app would feast on.
He cleared his throat softly, the sound obscene in the silence.
"Now then, ladies and gentlemen... let’s have a little chat, shall we?"
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