The Hockey Star’s Remorse

The night air hung heavy with tension as Timothy sat in front of the glowing screen, his eyes fixed on the livestream feed, his mind racing with worry and frustration. He leaned forward, analyzing the surroundings through the lens of the camera, attempting to glean any clue about Evie and Bruce’s whereabouts.

“Where are they?” Timothy muttered under his breath, frustration seeping into his tone as the livestream abruptly cut off for a break, leaving him in a state of restless anticipation.

His phone buzzed incessantly in the meantime, Aria’s concerned texts flooding in. He glanced at the, messages, and he’d reply occasionally when he wasn’t distracted,

“I’m fine,” he replied curtly, not wanting to worry her further. “I might have a lead on where Bruce is.”

The silence of the car was deafening as he waited for the livestream to resume, his impatience mounting with each passing moment. When the feed finally flickered back to life, Timothy’s heart sank at the sight. before him.

He could only catch a glimpse of Evie’s bound wrists and the back of her head as she lay on the ground. Her tear–stained face was obscured, but her cries pierced through the screen, tugging at Timothy’s heartstrings.

“Please, Bruce, I don’t know what I did wrong,” Evie’s voice wavered, a desperation lacing her words.

Timothy’s knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists in frustration, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a surge of helplessness as Bruce’s voice cut through the feed, callous and unforgiving.

“It was never about what you did wrong, Evie,” Bruce’s voice was cold, lacking any semblance of remorse. “It’s about what you did right. Always trying to appeal to my nonexistent good side.”

Evie’s pleas continued, her voice breaking as she begged for mercy. Timothy’s jaw tightened, a knot of disgust twisting in his stomach at Bruce’s callousness.

“You’ve always been perfect,” Bruce’s voice softened momentarily, a stark contrast to his previous harshness. “Comparing your life to mine was a mistake. My parents never even considered giving me

possibly blame Evie for being inherently good and seeing any humanity in someone so demented.

He clenched his jaw, his frustration boiling over at the sight of Evie’s anguish and Bruce’s callous demeanor. He wanted nothing more than to intervene, to rescue Evie from Bruce’s clutches, and then

show the other man true retribution.

His heart pounded in his chest, a cold wave of horror crashing over him as the livestream panned over to Bruce’s face, the chilling realization sinking in. His hands trembled as he watched Bruce adjust the camera, a cold determination etched on his features.

“No,” Timothy gasped, horror and disbelief intertwining in his mind as Bruce’s voice echoed through the

feed. “He’s not…”

Timothy’s blood turned to ice, a surge of revulsion and panic coursing through him as Bruce grabbed a shovel and began to dig a hole in the ground. Beside him, Evie struggled, her legs catching flicks of dirt.

The chat exploded with excitement, a flurry of messages fueling the anticipation of this morbid spectacle. In a frantic attempt to intervene, anonymously, Timothy typed, “What’s happening? What are you all waiting for?”

As if he’d been waiting for that question, Bruce piped up. “Today, folks, I’ll be giving you a special treat. We’ll be challenging Evie’s childhood fear of being buried alive,” his voice echoed through the feed, each word piercing Timothy’s senses like a knife.

The shock and dread tightened Timothy’s chest. He felt an overwhelming sense of urgency and a *sinking realization that time was rapidly slipping away. His hands shook as he frantically typed into the

‘chat, desperation guiding his every keystroke.

“Why is he doing this?” Timothy typed, his fingers trembling over the keys. “He’s not going to actually

kill her, is he?”

The chat erupted with a mix of excitement and horror. “That’s the point though,” a message appeared,

confirming Timothy’s worst fears.

!

His heart raced as the chat buzzed with responses, confirming his worst fears. “He’s actually going to

bury her alive,” someone else typed. “Make her eat the dirt!”

Panic set in, a frantic desperation consuming him as he tried to determine their location. “Where are they? Does anyone recognize the place?” he typed hastily, the phone almost slipping from his sweaty

hands.

Amidst the chaos of the chat, one viewer offered a tentative clue. “Looks like the clearing in the town’s

preserved forest area. At least it look like it with all those tall trees.” Timothy’s mind raced, trying to piece together the scattered clues.

“I wish I could be there live to see it,” another message popped up, filled with a chilling enthusiasm that made Timothy’s stomach churn with disgust. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

A surge of determination overtook Timothy. He knew he couldn’t waste a second. With trembling hands, he started his car, his eyes fixed on the livestream feed as he pulled away from his place, Evie’s hidden face only propelling him forward.

The road stretched out before him, the darkness of the night offering no solace. His heart raced as he

navigated through the empty streets, causing his own unrest. Cars honked as he swerved around them, desperate to increase his speed.

The livestream continued to play on his phone, the ominous countdown ticking away. Timothy’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. His mind raced with possibilities, trying to recall the town’s preserved forest area, the image of tall trees and an ominous clearing seared into his

memory.

“Sick freaks,” he growled, leering over at the chat once more. He winced when he heard Bruce shout, *undoubtedly at Evie.

“If you don’t stop screaming, I’m locking you in the car! You want to freeze in there?”

The forest area loomed ahead, a looming mass of trees and darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly. Timothy’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized the clearing from the descriptions in the chat.

As he entered the preserve, his eyes scanned the area, the eerie silence of the forest amplifying the urgency of the situation. He spotted the tall trees and the looming darkness of the clearing, a sense of

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dread washing over him.

Then he saw it, a small car parked in the middle of the clearing. Its lights were still on and the gas was

running. A thin figure was moving awkwardly beside it, and he recognized it as Bruce immediately.

Timothy slowed his car, parking at a distance, trying to remain unseen. His breaths came in shallow gasps as he observed from afar, weighing his options. He couldn’t risk confronting Bruce head–on, not

with Evie’s safety hanging in the balance.

Bruce’s actions seemed erratic, pacing back and forth, his gaze shifting between the surroundings. He

didn’t see Evie anywhere. She might have been locked in the car after all, with Bruce making good on

his promise to her. Timothy’s heart clenched at the sight, a surge of helplessness coursing through him.

With cautious movements, Timothy stepped out of his car, keeping low, using the terrain for cover. His

eyes remained fixed on Bruce, his movements deliberate and careful to avoid detection.

He moved stealthily, closing the distance between them, keeping his focus on Evie, who appeared increasingly distressed inside the car.

As Timothy drew nearer, Bruce’s movements became more frenzied, his attention divided between Evie

and the surroundings. Timothy s the opportunity, inching closer, trying to remain undetected.

Suddenly, Bruce’s attention fixed on something in the distance. Timothy’s heart leaped into his throat

as he realized Bruce was staring dead at him.

But before he could make a.move, a sudden gunshot shattered the silence. Timothy’s heart skipped a beat as panic surged through him. He scrambled for cover, the sound of the gunshot ringing in his ears.

“I know it’s you asshole!” Bruce cried out, his voice echoing throughout the clearing.

Timothy flattened himself against the car. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he crept closer, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He had expected Bruce to retaliate, but it didn’t stop his heart from beating

out of his chest.

He needed to be more tactful. The time before that, he’d barely escaped with his life, which would hardly do Evie any favors. At least this time around, he’d come prepared.

He reached into his coat pocket, grasping the handgun he’d tucked away there.

He was ready to end this.