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(Cyrus looks on, staring with his pupils dilating as tears are still evident along his cheeks and form a crescent in his eyes. He, the man, still wore his white tee shirt, and his hair still smoothly greased as he walked towards Cyrus with a grin so sinister, it could rile up a nun. As he walks with his chin lowered, a five o'clock shadow was present. Surrounding his strong facial features. Bubbles shroud the interior of Cyrus's belly. As the man gets closer and closer, the bubbles in Cyrus's belly begin to rise and rise until they reach his forehead creating a steam that causes him to leap from his steal seat in a faceless rage.)


(Before he could continue on his tirade, guarding officers rush over to contain him as his bonded core flails his arms along the shoulders of the officers. He continues to unravel an almost aimless rage.)



THE MAN: Please, please let him go! I have something very important to tell him. Do not take him away!

(Cyrus's rage begins to calm as he hears the man speak for the first time. Unconsciously he wanted to know more about the man who'd framed him for murder. The death of the mother of the woman he loves. Cyrus's vision clears as he had seen only blackness as he scrambled to be free of the officers containing him.)

OFFICERS: SIR, will you calm down!?

CYRUS: Alright, alright.

(He stops squirming to see the eyes of The Man. Shadowed by the darkness of the lower and upper lids of the eye. They were the color of dark gravel on a rainy day. At least they appeared so to Cyrus. He motions his right hand towards the table before he sits himself down across from the shambled Cyrus. He had a mannerism that was unlike anything Cyrus had ever seen. He was growing more curious of this stranger. He sits down as the bubbles begin to flow back down to his belly.)

OFFICERS: Not another outburst like that!

(Officers back away and return to their posts. Cyrus feels an uneasiness on his exterior before he starts to question the man.)

CYRUS: Who the fuck are you? Why'd you do it? Don't fucking lie to me.

THE MAN: My name is Igor Hannick.

(Cyrus was undoubtedly expecting deflection. It did not happen.)

IGOR HANNICK: So you're Cyrus. Right in front of me. I thought you'd be... well, you're exactly what I thought you'd be; frail, fragile, young and naive. A fool. Stupid. Just foolish. But! Don't get yourself too worked up again, because you should probably hear what I have to say to you. And then you can get as worked up as you want. But don't go overboard, because I'm posting your bail.

(Cyrus is now completely and utterly fazed by the cockiness and ill-equipped persona of this man "Igor Hannick". He could hardly make out the situation. His face wore a grim disgust he could not alter at the moment due to his inner lack of comfortability. He could only whisper pitifully. Completely broken by this "Igor Hannick".)

CYRUS: What the fuck are you?

IGOR HANNICK: Don't you worry, I'm goin' to get you out of here. I'm going to confess to the murder in front of the entire world. I'm just thinking of the production, and how I'm going to put it on. With the technology you guys have in this time, ahh, I'm going to be famous. Isn't that right?

CYRUS: You... you can time jump.

IGOR HANNICK: Well of course I can! Which of us can't?--

CYRUS: You're fucking sick. Why did you do it? You still haven't answered my question.

(Igor Hannick gives off a smile to the sky like he was thinking of something as sweet as the lips of a woman he had kissed.)

IGOR HANNICK: Ahh no reason. I just want you to be as miserable as possible. Right before I kill you, you know? I figured it'd be more entertaining that way.

(Cyrus's eyes widen as the bubbles start to rise back up. Now tightening his chest causing his eyes to bulge in terror. Trying not to make it obvious to Igor that he was terrified out of his mind.)

CYRUS: ...Why?--

IGOR HANNICK: "Why", "Why", "why", "why" -- is that all you can say? I haven't figured out how I want to kill you yet. Do I want to slit your throat? Do I want to... shoot you in the head and have all of your brains everywhere-- maybe too messy. Suffocation is a lot cleaner. I've already stabbed someone in the gut so... that's out of the question--

CYRUS: You mentioned technology-- our technology. Where are you from? What time?

IGOR HANNICK: ... I don't think you know how any of this works, and I really don't feel the need to explain this to you because you'll be dead shortly.

CYRUS: Why do you want me dead? What'd I ever do to you?

IGOR HANNICK: Are you crying? Of course you are. Fucking despicable. What a fucking faggot!

(Some of the guests in the room instantly trigger in offence at the sound of the "F" word. Yet no one vocally expresses their dissatisfaction to Igor.)

IGOR HANNICK: I can't wait to punch you in that goofy little face of yours.


IGOR HANNICK: "Why", "Why", "Why"; there's that word again.

You exist. That's why I want you dead. That way, I can claim your power.

CYRUS: You mean "steal" my power.

IGOR HANNICK: Ehh, give or take. "Potato", "Potahto". "Tomato", "Tomahto". But it's more of a "claim". Anywho..

(Igor gives a non-convincing look down at his watch as he prepares to get up from his seat; uncrossing his left foot from over his right knee. But Cyrus had more questions & comments. Attempting to entice Igor to continue the conversation.)

CYRUS: Well I... I hate to break it to ya', but my power's gone.

IGOR HANNICK: ... Ahahaha, your power isn't gone, you idiot. You just can't access it right now.

(Igor is now moved by Cyrus's ignorance.)

IGOR HANNICK: ... This is the part where the antagonist gives the protagonist a slither of hope by filling him in on how he can get out of said predicaments. Not this story. You die. Now if you excuse me...

(Igor looks back down on his watch. This time, it was sincere.)

IGOR HANNICK: I have a press conference to crash. I have to let the people know that is was me who killed that woman. Whatever the fuck her name was.

(Igor gets up and walks away from the table with his head held high. causing a swift breeze to brush under Cyrus's nose. Cyrus's head rises slightly with confidence.)

CYRUS: Her name was "Sonya",you fucking prick!

(Igor is unfazed by the insult as he continues to walk with his head held high, and notions the back of his right index, middle, and thumb fingers up as to say "good-bye" to Cyrus a he walks through the incredibly thundering doorway again.)


(A short two hours later, Cyrus was released on bond. Wearing his plain not-so-white tee shirt again. Holding his black coat over his right forearm. He trudges as quickly as he can towards the lobby of the prison. His adrenaline now pacing back and forth, up and down his being. He was temporarily free. Yet feeling he was seemingly walking towards his death.

As he passes the outer windowed automated doors separating the holding side of the prison campus from the entry side of the campus, he looks up to the right of him and sees the outdated 1990s television up high in the corner of the lobby. His hearts sinks to his stomach, as he starts to feel sweat seep from his pores.)

NEWS REPORTER: We're here at the scene where just over an hour ago, several bombs went off in front of the Double City Northwestern Suburban City Hall. right before a man who says his name is, "Igor Hannick", walked up to the podium-- screaming-- yelling at press to continue filming with various violent threats they say as the man claimed to be the killer of the woman in the county over a month ago. Several officers were injured in the incident on the podium. Officers have attempted to tail the suspect out to an abandoned car dealership building further out west of Northwestern County. Officers have not apprehended, or attempted to approach the dealership as they suspect to be met with deadly force.


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