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Project Z: Chapter 1-Dayton’s Execution 

For the rest of his life, Dayton would wonder if it was destiny that he had been the one to be captured that day. After all, it hadn’t been calculated. You can’t calculate who will survive an IED explosion. Instead, you set the explosive, let it do what it does, and then wade through the wreckage to see what could be salvaged. Supplies, people, intelligence. It’s all somewhat helpful in the end.

He didn’t remember much from that day. His memory didn’t come back into sharp focus until sometime later during a particularly productive therapy session. He had never been able to gather much information about where he was or who, exactly, had captured him. All he knew was that he was the only one who had survived that explosion, and the people that had recovered him were not only enemies but convinced he had something to tell them. They had tortured him, wanting to know who he was, where he’d been going, and why he was there. Dayton couldn’t remember if he’d told them anything. If he had, it had been useless by the time he divulged it. Once compromised, his people would have packed up and cleared out.

It had been cold in that compound. Cold, dark, and something was scurrying around in the corner. He had been there for over a month and had managed not to break. His training had gotten him far; his stubbornness had gotten him even farther.

But he could still feel every broken toe on his right foot and the severely sprained wrist in his left arm. His hands were turning blue from the tight ropes, and he was weak from lack of food and sleep.

He was still alive but probably not for much longer.

Today was the day they had decided to execute him and live stream it on the Dark Web. He was going to die, and a bunch of sick fuckers worldwide would watch it as they munched on snacks or drank themselves into a stupor or whatever sick people did when they watched sick things.

There would be a government agency or two also watching. He had at least that comfort. Some nameless, faceless person would watch and remember and use it as a talking point to further an agenda he didn’t care about at this moment. Maybe the agenda hadn’t even been invented yet. Possibly his demise would be the stuff of redacted reports and clearances so high that it would be at least two generations before anyone learned his name. There was something darkly appealing in that notion. It made him feel much more important than he was. 

He was on his knees, shivering, listening as they talked into the camera about all the reasons he was going to be executed. He could understand them for the most part but was too tired and scared to pay attention to the depth of their words. It probably sounded like any other execution video anyway.

If he had been paying more attention, he might have noticed the screams when they started in the distance and would have known that something odd was happening. He would have known before the group huddled around the camera ran out of the room, and weapons raised that something was coming. He would have noticed before he passed out from the pain and the cold that he was being rescued. And if he saw something that shouldn’t have been real, he could chalk that up to hunger-induced hallucinations to any therapist looking to rubber stamp him as sane.

At least, that would have been the smart move, but Dayton had never proclaimed himself overly intelligent. 

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in All Stories, LGBTQ+, Paranormal