DING DONG. The automatic door opens as the bell rings, telling the employee that another customer has entered the store.

Mason drunkenly stumbles into the store. He tries to look around but is confused when his body doesn’t move the way he wants it to. Am I dreaming again? Why does it always have to be this place? Still trying, he fails to gain control of his body. Guess I’ll just let it do its thing.

Mason watches on as his body stumbles on up to the counter, just like he did that night.

“Hello sir, how can I help you?” The worker asks, wary of the clearly drunk man who’s hiding his face, he quietly picks up his phone, ready to call the police if something goes wrong.

“Keep your hands where I can see them. I have a bomb under this jacket, and if you try and call for help, I won’t hesitate to blow this whole place sky high.” Mason says matching word for word with what he said that night. This really is a dream. He says it quietly enough that only the worker can hear him, not drawing the attention of the other customers.

The worker, now visibly shaking slowly raises his hands so that they can be seen, hiding his phone under the counter. “Please don’t hurt me. What do you want? I can give you all the money in the register, please just don’t blow us up.” Although scared, the worker manages to stay quiet enough not to alert the others, in fear that Mason will follow through with his threats.

~

With a packet of chips in one hand, and a can in the other, Bob makes his way to the counter, hoping to get back home as soon as possible to watch the basketball game. Can’t wait to watch Giannis demolish people on the court tonight. Stepping up to the counter, he sees that someone’s already in line, so he decides to wait. He waits in line for a while with nothing happening. What’s taking them so long. He looks up at the worker and sees that he’s sweating and shaking. Something’s not right. He turns his head to look at the person in the hoodie and spots a suspicious lump sticking out on his back. What is that? He leans in closer, trying to hear what’s going on.

“Please don’t hurt me. What do you want? I can give you all the money in the register, please just don’t blow us up.” He can barely make out what is being said. Slowly his mind starts to connect the dots and he freezes in place, the can dropping to the ground.

The person in the hoodie turns around, staring at him. Bob stumbles back, falling onto the floor. “He’s got a bomb!” He yells, as everyone in the store freezes in place.

~

Pandemonium breaks out as everyone tries to flee, but the door refuses to open. They try smashing through the glass, but it refuses to even budge. Seeing that they can’t escape, they huddle together, as far away from Mason as possible.

Mason freezes in place, staring at them as they huddle together in fear. Why is the door stuck? This didn’t happen last time.

Behind the counter the worker quickly calls the police, telling them what happened as he ducks behind the counter, only peeking his head over to keep an eye on Mason.

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Mason gains back control of his body, feeling a cold sensation on his back. What is happening?

“Hello Mason. You have threatened many people’s lives, but somehow you have managed to get away with very little consequences. You tried to burn down your classroom, which could have led to the deaths of many staff and students, and for that, you were expelled. This time, you threatened to blow up a gas station, threatening to kill everyone inside, and yet you managed to escape with no punishment. This time you will follow through with your threats. There is a bomb currently stuck to your back with wax, and this one will explode and kill you. Don’t think of running away like last time, that won’t work. Your only choice is to cut through the wax and remove the bomb from yourself. I hope you know where you can find a knife. Good luck.”

Mason freezes for a moment, slapping himself to see if he’s dreaming. Feeling the pain, he turns pale. This is real. But how? Everything is the same as that night. He reaches around to his back, feeling a bulge on the middle of his back. Mason looks around, before sprinting at the door, trying to break through the glass. His shoulder starts to feel sore, but the glass doesn’t break. He stops, knowing that it’s useless. He tries to pull off his jacket, but it’s stuck to his back.

Getting desperate he tries to run to the other people for help, but they keep running away in fear, knocking things off the shelves while trying to keep their distance. “You’ve gotta help me! I’ve got a bomb. Please just help me get it off!”

“Sir, calm down. Just stay where you are, we don’t want anyone to get hurt.” The worker says, attempting to calm the man down.

Mason keeps moving around. No longer paying attention to what’s happening around him, he starts deludedly mumbling to himself. “It’s all the same. I thought this was a dream. Why do I have a bomb? This can’t be real...” He keeps on mumbling to himself, sounding increasingly more deranged as time goes on.

Seeing this, everyone else gets even more worried about their safety, as the person is noticeably crazy, and only getting worse. At this time all the customers are crowded around the counter, with Mason muttering in the centre of the store.

Trying not to aggravate him, the worker speaks quietly to the others. “Help is on the way. We only have to wait a few minutes, then we’ll be safe.”

Mason continues to wander around the store, tossing things onto the ground. “This doesn’t match what happened. There was no bomb. It has to match.” After a minute, he stops in front of a shelf. “There it is.” he says while picking up a pocketknife. He reaches behind him, feeling for where the bomb starts and ends. Grabbing the knife, he presses it against the area just below the bomb, and slowly starts pushing it in. The knife pushes through the fabric, into the wax. Mason stops just as it starts to sting. Slowly he starts to carve around the bomb, leaving a cut on his back as blood starts pouring out.

The other people watch on in horror as Mason continues to drag the blade across his back, his mumbling becoming completely incoherent. His breathing grows heavy as the stinging pain starts to get at him, but he continues to push through. Reaching the top, he pauses for a moment to readjust, changing hands to continue cutting. As he starts to cut down, the blood pours onto his hand, making it difficult to keep holding on.

Sirens start to sound, as flashing red and blue lights start to come through the foggy glass. The blade continues to cut down as the sirens get louder and louder. Distracted, his hand slips, pushing the knife in deeper. He screams out in pain, reaching out in front of him to stabilise himself. He tries to reach back around and continue, but a knocking sound comes from outside, trying to bash the door in.

Looking back, he sees the glass of the door start to crack. I’m free.

BOOM!

The bomb explodes, shattering the glass and sending everything else flying.

“It looks like you have failed to remove the bomb in time Mason. Now your hatred fuelled wish has come true, and you have gotten your revenge against those you believe had wronged you. But what did it cost you?

Your entire life, ended in an instant. I hope you have learned that hurting others can come at a cost, and that sometimes that cost is more than you are willing to pay. Enjoy Hell, Mason. Goodbye.”