Chapter 3

That day, the schedule grid had only one patient, Martin Turner, the same grade as Jeffrey, different class and opposite personality. He was the type to make friends with whomever he wanted, and this was natural, he was a normal child, but the school insisted that he had a problem, trypanophobia - fear of needles. Vaccination was important, campaigns went into the schools, and Martin would make a fuss and embarrass himself in front of everyone, his fear was so great, he didn't even care. It bothered the school. Winston would take any challenge, he liked them, the issues, and being alone in a room smelling of flowers was boring. Drinking coffee alone in the teachers' lounge was boring too. Working as the best thing, he hated sitting still.

"How are you today, Martin?" Connel asked softly, as the boy still sat down.

"I'm fine," the boy replied. The psychologist cracked a small smile, satisfied with the answer. "I had oatmeal at recess, it was oatmeal. Do you like oatmeal?" Martin was sociable with adults, he usually asked directly what he wanted to know, and this never included "I'm fine, how are you?". In theory, this was impolite, but he was so nice and innocent, that everyone ignored that he had no interest in knowing the well-being of others.

"Oatmeal is tasty, but, any news about you?" Connel was more direct.

"I don't want an injection," and pointed to his arm, and soon after, to his buttocks. Winston laughed softly.

"I don't like the pain either, I'm with you on this," he said, whispering, and the boy laughed, indifferent.

The appointment lasted only half an hour, and since he had nothing else to do, Winston left Central High School behind.

His thoughts were processing a friendly relationship between Jeffrey and Martin. Yes, Martin was included in the plans. Mr. Connel's favorites, aka the teenagers who fit the term "like," would be the victims. He did not intend to mistreat any of them, ultimately they would decide whether there would be violence or not.

The house was ready to receive the new guests if the plan was complete. How to kidnap people? Which car to use? How to get rid of the clues?

The map of the school, a map with all the cameras. Everything has a loophole, so somewhere in the school there was no camera, that would be the escape route, and the vehicle, would have to be hidden. He had two cars, one that he used every time, and an old, dark, and completely shabby car that he kept in storage. It would make a good kidnapping car and be easy to hide. Winston had no neighbors, no one visited him either, and he had everything under control. No one would suspect the friendly psychologist, at least, not after finding no evidence about it. He would do it in detail, getting out of his routine, and out of working hours. He wanted to have at least ten victims, and he only had an idea of two of them.

When he left school, he went to the market and made a good purchase. It was a monthly purchase that would feed up to five people. He didn't eat much, it was all part of the plan. At least three, he had to have.

Once at home, he prepared the environment, with sweet, soft aromas. The rooms are tidy, and the kitchen is clean. He would cook at first until they learned to do something on their own. He would also teach them lessons. Not only that, but he didn't worry too much about the idea of being hated, it was easy to manipulate minds so young, and at least two of them he was already sure were admired, even though Jeffrey barely spoke.

His mind was made up, the first kidnapping would happen within three days.

NEW HOME

It was 8:30 on a Wednesday morning, the long-awaited day, the plan finally in action. Mr. Connel was used to getting up at that time, I mean, since he rarely slept, that time was more suited to him realizing how much coffee he had had, and how much time had passed while he was sinking in his thoughts, and that was regularly. He showered in only ten minutes; cold and cloudy weather, typical of Seattle. The breakfast of this man without an ounce of health involved more coffee, and, of course, some toast; he read the newspaper, well, they still delivered newspapers in some places in town, but it was no longer free as before, but he made a point of paying monthly for them. He had a TV, it was on most of the time, in the living room, so that the volume was loud enough to hear from his precious office.

At that time, all the teenagers were already in class, as were their educators; Winston was just the psychologist, and his office hours were usually from 9:30 a.m. to 1 p.m., the rest of the day varied since the school thought it was better to invest in consultations for teenagers up to fourteen years old, than teenagers from fifteen to eighteen, and it was not for nothing, they were better in the head, incredibly better, which was curious since adolescence is the most hellish time in the life of any normal person.

As he pulled out his Ingot Silver car from the 2018 Ford Escape lineup, Winston noticed the calm around his house, which would have its last empty hours for quite some time. As he raced the car down the avenue toward the school, he mentally reviewed the entire plan. The school had three entrances/exits, and all of them had cameras, but they were the kind that moves, leaving gaps, if you are good at calculating how long it takes before it turns around again, which is ridiculously easy to bypass the system. One of these cameras had a slower turnaround, totally in favor of Winston's plan, however, it was the least used exit, specific students passed through it, as it led to the parking lot, while the other two were one to the street and one to the bus stops. Both Jeffrey nor Martin did not use the parking lot exit. Plan B: create a distraction at the other two exits, how to do this? Connel pounded on the steering wheel, not having the slightest idea how to execute this plan.

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