2nd place

Aidan Pierstorff “The Perfect Revenge” Short Story Contest Submission 10/13/23

The Perfect Revenge The wind lightly roared its fierce growl as we drove. The car had been playing some old tunes from the 80’s as some light background noise so it wasn’t too quiet ever.

“Y’know this is risky stuff, we don’t have to do this.” my partner, Andy, reminded me. We’d been planning this since last year, after the incident. After we’re done with the place, they’ll wish they never messed with me.

“We need to do this, if we don’t, we’ve spent the last year for nothing, and might as well curl into a ball, go home, eat some ice cream, and die.” I sounded harsher than I meant to, realizing I needed to keep my cool if we were ever going to get anywhere.

“Ok yeesh, sorry.”

I won't lie, I felt a little bad about making Andy upset, but now is not the time for this pity nonsense, now is the time for action. Now is the time for revenge.

As we approached our destination, I went through the plan with Andy one last time.

“First, we find a dark and hidden place to park the car, preferably further away so as to not have any way of people tracking us. Next, we grab the supplies and head toward our target, sticking to the shadows so we don’t stick out. To help us be even sneakier, I brought some ski masks! Then we-” but then I saw it. Another car, with its bright lights glaring at us, slowly approaching. My mind was racing like a whirlpool as I was thinking of what to do in this scenario. Are they going to report us? Are they just passing by? Are they going to want to join us? I’ll admit that last thought was more silly than realistic but it’s always a possibility.

“Uh dude, are you good?” Andy’s skepticism brought me back to reality, as I looked around and saw no sights of the car or its lights.

“Sorry about that, I just had a little brain fart.” I lied. I can’t tell if he notices it but he looks content enough with that answer. As I regathered my thoughts I opened my mouth to finish the plan, but I noticed the clock on the dashboard before I could get my words out. 11:27pm. It’s getting late, and if I wanted to make it to work on time tomorrow, we would have to do this sooner than later.

“No more time to discuss, let's grab the stuff and start moving, we have a bit of a walk ahead of us.”

So I finally turned off the car and started to load my hands and pockets with various pieces of tech, X-ray goggles, sleeping powder, even some sound proof shoes, but most importantly was the main reason we were here, the T.D.M. (Time Dilation Machine) During the month of October, it’s common to sneak into people's houses after everyone has gone to sleep and cause some mayhem. Some people enjoyed the simple things, occasional boobie traps, a temporary blindness potion, turning all their plates and bowls into forks and spoons and vice versa, but some were more cruel.

Some enjoyed watching others suffer through other methods, like putting some fear gas into the vents, causing everyone in the house to hallucinate their worst fears come true, or bringing in hordes of mice to chew up the place and leave a mess. But the worst happened last year, in my own house. The Jersons made it into my house, and deployed their own device, the S.C.U.(Soul Containment Unit). It was only supposed to temporarily take our souls, rendering our bodies useless, and make a little panic before sending them right back to our bodies. Only, that's not what happened.

That morning, I woke up and could only see darkness, there was no light, no sound, nothing at all. It was just me, alone, alone with my thoughts and my thoughts alone. The Jersons forgot to take one thing in consideration. You see, for the S.C.U. to release the souls, all of my family and their souls would need to wake up, allowing the timer to start counting down to release us. That thing that they forgot to take into consideration was that my parents were gone, out for the rest of October on some business trip, not returning until the beginning of November. The worst part about this?

Time moved agonizingly slow in the S.C.U. A single hour outside took a day. With no way to escape, I was trapped. I sat there for 7 real days until Andy, realizing I had been missing from school all week and not responding to his messages, decided to get in and release me. I was trapped in that device for 167 days. Not once did the Jersons consider checking to see if we got out ok. Not once did their son, Gabe, tell anyone at school why I may have been missing. They were going to pay for what they did to me.

But I won't be so forgiving.

“Hey uh, listen. I understand that you were stuck in their little S.C.U. for a pretty long time, but is this really justified?”

Andy may as well just take the bible and burn it infront of Jesus himself.

“You have absolutely no idea what it was like in there, it was purgatory. For 167 days I had to wait, if you hadn’t come over I would have been trapped in there for over 20 days, that's more than a year. I had nothing to do, nothing to see, nothing to feel. My mind was its own best friend and enemy. I still have biweekly therapy sessions so I don’t lose my mind over that experience, so yes, Andy, I’d say this is pretty well justified.” I have this strange growl in my voice, resulting in a rough, gravel sounding noise. Almost as if I was a smoker who blew through 2 packs a day.

“I suppose you make a fair point, I really am sorry about that happening to you. I suppose if this is some sort of weird therapy you need to get over this, then I’m with you, no turning back.” Andy says this with more agreeance than I expected. For the better part of last year he was always a little iffy about helping design the T.D.M. Whether it was for his moral code, or knowing what I was going to do with it, I didn’t know. All I needed to know was that he would help me design it, because he is the only man I knew who could help design and bring to life this monstrosity of a device. The device in question was fairly simplistic, at exactly 3:45am, the device would activate, causing a minute to take 1 real life day. The machine would only deactivate after 7 days.

De crème de la crème? No one could get in or out of the house, or die from any events.

It was the perfect revenge. The T.D.M. was made from solid flankium, a material notoriously known for its incredible strength, even being used in the most high tech equipment to date. We were able to snag some from Andy’s dad’s workshop.

“Perfect” I say, a smile creeping up on my face. I’ll admit it, I’m reasonably excited to finally bring some well deserved justice to the Jersons.

As we start our way up to their house, I begin to ready my equipment. Andy and I both are pretty efficient when it comes to sneaking into people's houses, we don’t even need a lock pick to get in. Andy always had something up his sleeve, and this time was no different. His plan was to melt the inside of the door handle, allowing the locking mechanism to malfunction and allowing easy access.

The wind had picked up its pace significantly, the tree’s shifting as if getting ready to watch the best action film ever recorded. Regardless of if the tree’s even had eyes to see us, we were practically invisible with the help of our cloaks. This was especially useful considering the fact that tonight of all nights had to be a blood moon. It really helped set the atmosphere though, almost as if a sign from something beyond the stars, staring with its ominous glory as we begin the greatest revenge to happen in some years.

As wolves howled at the looming moon, we finally stood face to face with their house. It was a well kept house, painted a nice off-white color, with occasional pieces of paint chipping away from its age. I had fond memories of this house, me and Gabe used to be good friends, so I would visit regularly. That was until a few years, around the end of middle school when we just went our separate ways, still occasionally talking but not like we used to. ‘Welcome to Our Home’ was a little sign that was on the front door for as long as I knew Gabe, I slowly noticed the ropes become less conformed, becoming older and frailer as time drew on. Now it looks as if it was going to fall off because of some unfortunate wind, but it still hung strong.

“Okay” Andy whispered. “I got the door all ready, we get in there, and we get out as soon as possible. Only use the sleeping powder if necessary, that stuff’s hard to come by!”

I could only nod in agreement, I risked screwing up the whole operation if I tried to talk quietly, I’m not the best at that. Honestly I’m not the best at doing anything sneakily, but that's only due to my relatively big size. Thankfully though, when I needed to be quiet and hidden, I could pull my weight.

As we entered the home we were greeted to a sign, politely taped to the counter.

It read: Good evening friends! If you’re reading this, then you’re probably here to cause some fun mischief! We enjoy this tradition through and through, so please be gentle!

Happy October. As I finished reading the note I let out a little snicker, but quickly regained my composure. It was time for my action to come to fruition.

As Andy and I set up the T.D.M. I had one last look around, just a chance to see it one last time before most likely being banned for ever stepping foot near the house again. Not much had changed since the last time I came over, the carpeted floor still had that soothing texture, just something that you’d want to lay on. The place we were setting it up, the living room, only changed in the places you’d expect. A better TV, new pictures on the walls, and even some artwork that I don’t recall. It’ll be a lovely place for them to be trapped in for the next 86400 days.

As Andy gave me a thumbs up letting me know it was all ready, I nodded and headed for the door. As I looked back into the now rigged house, I felt a piece of comfort I hadn’t felt before last October. I finally did it, I’m getting my sweet revenge.

As we walk back, I gleefully stare up at the moon, knowing that someone, or something knows what I did, and is probably having a laugh about it.

I turn on the car, make sure no one sees us, and start driving away.

“How about some victory music?” Andy Suggests.

“That sounds like a great plan.” I say, grinning ear to ear.