What Would You Do For $10,000?

What Would You Do For $10,000?

A Story by HadesRising
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The year is 2019. I am serving the 37th year of a life sentence at Louisiana State Penitentiary. For the longest time, I hadn’t felt the need to tell my story.

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The year is 2019. I am serving the 37th year of a life sentence at Louisiana State Penitentiary. For the longest time, I hadn’t felt the need to tell my story. It had the perfect ending just the way it was, but now I feel that it is time for me to come forward with everything. I’m not getting any younger after all.

In 1982, unemployment was soaring and finding jobs was next to impossible. Now, most 20-something’s would be ecstatic and grateful to know that they have a cushy job at their father’s Fortune-500 company, but I won’t lie; I couldn’t stand the man.

My father believed to have been better than anybody that crossed his path. Because he had more money, he was automatically of a higher standard. I guess that was the mindset he had when he laid off well over 500 of his employees when money was tight…including me, his oldest son.

Oh, but not his precious youngest and his darling trophy wife. He created a sea of enemies to ensure those two were happy. Mom was too good for him, rest her soul.

Obviously, this would lead me to a precarious financial situation. I was becoming desperate. I had grown into a lifestyle that would not qualify as “luxurious”, but I was comfortable. I moved out of my studio downtown to a 1-bedroom apartment just to consolidate until I was able to come across steady income.

This quickly became difficult as there was simply no one hiring. Until one Tuesday morning, that is, when I discovered an ad for a job in the paper.

“Fit, adult male needed. Cash up front and after. Call number below.”

I wouldn’t say I was a Harrison Ford or a Tom Cruise, but I was in decent shape. “What the hell?” I asked myself. I gave them a call.

The man who answered the call was stern and cut straight to the point. There was an urgency for professionalism.

“$5,000 upfront, $5,000 when you’re done. You will receive a letter with instructions. If you refuse to complete your assigned task, we will take it upon our own means to retrieve the original $5,000. Do we have a deal?”

I was desperate, running out of money, and to be honest, I was bored.

“You have a deal! Grab a pen to jot down my address.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

And without skipping a beat, the man hung up. I would be lying if I said that I felt a bit uneasy after hearing that, but many people knew my name through my father, whether that was a good or a bad thing.

The following day, after running some remedial errands, I returned back to my apartment to be greeted with a large manila envelope on my dining room table. The inside of the envelope contained 3 items; a small letter, $5,000 in cash as promised by the phone call, and a walkie talkie.

Puzzled by the walkie talkie, I began to read the letter.

“You are to board and ride the boat docked at the Tickfaw Marina in 3 days. The boat is black with exactly 3 white lines painted on the right side. You will leave at midnight. No later, no sooner. Ride the boat in the exact direction it is facing when you arrive. Do not stop until you are instructed to do so. All communication will be done through the device you received in your package. Upon completion of your task, your additional $5,000 will be delivered. If you no longer wish to complete the task, place all 3 items back into the package so we may retrieve it later in your mailbox. If you wish to go through with this, we will assume your acceptance of the task if there is nothing in your mailbox by midnight tonight.”

Obviously, this was a lot to take in. What could possibly be asked of me to do? But, $10,000 was quite a lot of money for 1982. I could hit the hard reset button on my life and really turn things around. I thought to myself, “What is the worst that could happen?”

I called my cousin, who was my closest friend at the time, to ask him what he thought. This was the 80’s, and things were much simpler. If there was an opportunity to make $10,000 in a single night, you took it without hesitation. He talked me into a calmer state of mind and I felt much more confident about my decision. In just three days, I was going to be $10,000 richer.

The next few days blew by. I spent my time planning on how I was going to spend the $10,000. A down payment on a house probably was the most responsible thing I could’ve thought of but naturally my mind wandered to more exciting things like a bike, a new car, or even a record player. Mom always loved to play me the Beatles.

It was 6 p.m. the night of the big day. I had both a mixture of excitement and nerves. As I was packing a brown paper bag with something to eat, I received a call. It was my cousin; “Hey, I’ve been trying to get a hold of your dad the past couple of days now. Have you heard from him?”

I told him I had not, and that it wasn’t uncommon for him to go off the grid for extended periods of time. When you’re the CEO of a large corporation, you make your own hours and you take as much vacation as you’d like. Not like I would ever be on any with him, but still.

We exchanged some pleasantries until finally the phone call had ended. I passed the time with some chores around the house. Nothing exciting.

The drive only took me about 20 minutes. When I arrived, an uneasiness settled in. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was, but it was there.

The boat was right there waiting for me. Not an issue. However, I had very little experience operating a boat. My dad let me do it once when I was 10, maybe 11. He yelled at me 30 seconds in and didn’t let me operate it ever again. Damn boat was more precious to him than me.

I clicked the walkie talkie to inform them I was here.

“Go straight until we tell you to stop. Keep your light on.”

Seemed simple enough.

I hopped in, turned on the search light, and went straight. I went about 10 minutes until I heard the walkie talkie.

“Stop. We will arrive shortly.”

After about 5 minutes of waiting, a boat nearly identical to mine arrived on the left side of my deck. 3 men dressed head to toe in black, including cheap ski masks, all were aboard their boat. They tossed a rope over to my side to tie around the side hook to keep our boats touching. They put 3 wooden boards on top of our boats to form a bridge, which they then slid 3 large wooden boxes over to my side. Each one must have weighed well over 100 pounds, one of them being at least double that. I guess I see why they said they needed a fit male.

After I slid over boxes and settled them on the floor, one of the men handed me a fairly large tool box which I could feel was loaded with just about every tool imaginable.

They then proceeded to slide all 3 of the boards back into their boat, they pointed to the rope and gestured for me to untie it. I obliged, tossed the rope back over, and they sped off without saying a word.

A weird encounter for sure, but I figured that the hard part of the job had been over. Carry some heavy boxes to shore. Right?

I sent a message through the walkie talkie.

“Uhh, I have the boxes and the tool box. Where should I deliver it?”

“Open the tool box. Remove the crowbar, and open the top of each box.”

The smell of death is a very distinct, in-your-face scent that cannot be mistaken. I found that out on that boat. Each box contained a body, all of which had their heads removed. There was one adult male, one adult female and one male that looked to be in his late teens or early 20’s.

After several minutes of consistent vomiting, I radioed the anonymous man. “What the f**k! Please tell me this is a f*****g joke!”

“If you want your money, you will complete the remainder of the task. Do you wish to proceed?”

In hindsight, I should have left. However, my mind thought that I was already too knee deep in the situation, and that backing out now would not improve my chances of wiping my hands clean of the mess that had been plopped in front of me.

“What next?”

“Each box contains multiple trash bags. You will remove both arms and both legs from each body. Put each limb in its own separate trash bag. In the back of the boat, you will see multiple boxes. Within the boxes, you will see bricks. You will place 2 bricks in each bag. You will then put each bag into the marina. After the limbs, you will put the torsos back into box, and fill the boxes with bricks to the brim. After this, you will throw it all into the marina and your time on the boat will conclude. Do you understand?”

Naturally, my first instinct was repulsed. I quite simply could not find the words to describe how I was feeling in the moment.

This must’ve been a dream, right?

“DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes, yes,” I quickly responded. Again, I felt that I was already too knee deep. If I do the job right, I should be fine, right?

The tool box came with every tool imaginable. I grabbed the saw first and I decided to start with the biggest body. It was a male, north of 175 pounds I would say.

There was…there was so much blood. With each rake of the saw, a unique crunch rang in my ears. Each time I would remove the saw from the wound, a different squirt of blood would come out.

As sick as I am saying it, I can’t help but admit I almost enjoyed it to a degree. The adrenaline rush surpassed anything I had felt before.

After about 3 hours of what turned out to be the best work out of my life, each limb was placed in its own trash bag along with 2 bricks, and each box filled to the brim with bricks. Each body part was safely on its way to the bottom of the marina.

“It’s done.”

“Return to the dock. Your money will be at your house upon arrival. Job well done. Enjoy the show.”

As if this whole experience wasn’t off-putting, something about that last comment made me feel uneasy.

After 10 minutes of riding back to the dock, I noticed the 3 men waiting for me at the dock. Upon arrival, they were silent and business as usual.

They watched as I reached my car, still covered head to toe in blood. It must have been 4 a.m. at this point. All I was hoping for was that I wasn’t going to be pulled over.

I saw the men pile into the boat to what I assumed was going to be a cleanup job. I turned around, and headed back onto the highway.

BANG!

In my rearview, I saw the boat exploded, flames roaring into the night sky. I guess I was somewhat relieved considering the evidence was gone.

Finally, I was home. I walked in the front door and sprinted to the bathroom. I felt that a deep cleanse was necessary before anything else. After a shower that felt like hours, I threw on a fresh pair of clothes and returned to my kitchen. I was starved.

I walked in and noticed another manila envelope, same as the first, on my counter. This one was much thicker than before.

Like the last one, there were 3 items within it; a letter, $5,000 as promised, and a video tape with a sticky note reading in big bold letters “PLAY ME.”

“Thank you for your service. You have done us all a favor. Enjoy the show.”

I rushed over to the TV and immediately played the tape.

What I saw not only scarred me, but would ultimately be the ending of my life as I knew it.

I probably should have been smart enough to inspect the boat before I proceeded with the job. You see, I feel like any idiot for having to say this, but checking for cameras back then was not common. However, I should have.

I began to watch a video of everything that transpired over the course of the evening. Every single cut, grunt and spew of blood all for the viewer’s pleasure.

Except, conveniently, the video cut out the part where the men dropped off the boxes. To the eyes of the police, this was a solo job.

I sat and watched the entire thing. Again, there was something sadistic, yet enjoyable, watching myself cut into the bodies.

In the distance, I heard the walkie talkie mumbling. I sprinted back into my room to retrieve it.

“WHAT THE F**K DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?”

“The video has been given to the police. Thank you for your service. We hope you enjoyed the show.”

And no more than 30 seconds passed until I saw the lights through my living room window. It was over. I didn’t even fight it. They stormed my apartment, dropped me to my knees and booked me.

I was stoic to say the least. All of this for a meager $10,000 dollars I was never going to even be able to spend. Was it wrong that that is what was at the forefront of my mind and not the bodies I had just mutilated? Probably.

As I was sitting in custody, I was able to get a glance at one of the TV’s in the waiting room. The news was on.

And then, I saw the headline.

“CEO, wife and son murdered, decapitated and robbed $10,000 cash from Louisiana home.”

I wish that I could say I felt remorse. Truly, I wanted to. But I almost felt satisfied.

Like the police raid, I didn’t even fight in court. I took no plea deal. I felt that what I was getting was deserved. Trust me when I say that anyone would pay a life sentence to experience what I did. The adrenaline rush was more addictive than crack.

Through the years in the state pen, you hear things. At my time here, I was finally able to piece together the puzzle. I came to find that the workers my father had laid off went off the deep end. They wanted to exact their revenge with none of the punishment.

That’s where I came into play.

Gotta hand it to them, not a bad plan.

To this day, though, I can’t help but ask one question…

Why didn’t they just ask me to join in the first place?

© 2019 HadesRising


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Well written. Keep up the good work.

Posted 4 Weeks Ago


Very good read, thumbs up bro.

Posted 4 Weeks Ago



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Added on July 18, 2019
Last Updated on July 18, 2019
Tags: Horror supernatural scary

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HadesRising
HadesRising

London, United Kingdom



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The cruelty wrought between lines of despair is but one with my own labored heart Favorite Poets/Writers Dani Filth, Jim Butcher, Kevin Hearne, Tolkien, more..

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