The Trap

He held the zip drive by the tips of his boney fingers, staring at it as it was shaken by his heartbeats. A small strip of tape with the words, “For William” written in black sharpie could be seen on the side of the stick. Then he turned to his grey, out-of-touch computer, that only had a few links saved to the desktop and nothing else. Then he turned back to the zip drive. 

It took all the strength he had, but the old man was able to thrust the drive into the USB slot, allowing the disk’s link to pop up on the screen. Without thinking, he double-clicked the link, opening the window to a single file. An MP4 file was all that was in the drive. Detective William Jackson had one more thing to do; click the video. 

He feared what was actually in the video, for he wasn’t a hundred percent certain what it was. Still, he had a job to do and stiffened up in his chair. Yet he stared blankly at the computer screen for a while. He just sat there and stared for what felt like thirty minutes, though in reality, it was probably just a minute. But too many thoughts were going through his head. He realized he just had to ignore them. He slowly dragged the mouse to the icon and clicked it. 

It took a while for the computer to load software that could play the video, but once it did, it started playing the grainy, vertically shot video. Jackson’s speakers blasted the crunchy noise of static, causing the old man to frantically look for volume. Once he did and was able to lower it to a comfortable wave, did he notice that the video had shifted focus, from being a blur of colors to a man sitting in a fold-out chair, face covered by a clay mask. 

“Hello, Detective Jackson.” Said the man, using voice-distorting software, though hints of natural voice could be heard. “This is going to be a lovely evening for us both.” 

Jackson exhales and leaned back in his seat. If he was going to watch this, he was going to get comfortable. 

“I know what this is about…” said the man. “This is about your granddaughter. By now, she will be in my possession. Don’t worry, she is not hurt. At least… She will not be hurt yet.” 

Jackson shook a little, but calmed down and continued the video. 

“I’m not like the psychopaths you have caught in your past, detective. I do not care for passion or blood. All I want is a good game. And I can tell right now, that this is going to be a very good game.” 

The man got up from his seat and walked around the camera. The focus shifted to a table, where a helmet rested that had a strange-looking device duck-taped to it. 

“Here is the first game. Your granddaughter is wearing it right now. It’s designed to shock her. The first will not even be a pinch. Yet for every hour you fail to answer my riddle, it will get even worse. Fail to solve my riddle by the eighth hour, and your granddaughter will get a fatal shock. But I know it won’t come to that. You’re too brilliant to fail in the first game. And I have so much more to show you. But I don’t want to spoil the fun. So solve my riddle… Find the next drive… And you will be one step closer to saving your little girl. The clock is ticking, my friend.” 

The video stopped. The man nodded to himself, and then reached for his phone. He dialed a number and held the device up to his ear. 

“Hello?” said a voice. 

“Hey Jim, how’s Clair?” asked Jackson. 

“She’s asleep, and so is your son and his wife. Peter’s got the first watch, but I don’t think anything will happen tonight. They should be back home by tomorrow night.”

“And how’s our new friend?” laughed Jackson. 

“What? The genius? The last time I checked, he was crying in his holding cell. Better call Dave and ask him how he’s doing.” 

“I checked out that video on the disc,” said Jackson. “What’s the name of that guy from that torture-puppet movie?” 

“Saw?” asked Jim. 

“Yeah, this guy thought he was that. Saw. His plan was to kidnap Clair, strap some Saw trap to her, and… I don’t want to think about it.” 

“How the fuck did he not know we could trace his location with the zip drive?” asked Jim. “I mean, I know he’s nuts, but I thought at the very least a paranoid person would know that?” 

“Hey, I’m thankful he didn’t.” Said Jackson. “And that someone was able to identify him before he could kidnap Clair.” 

“Felt bad for the guy.” Said Jim. “He lived alone, with just a cat, in some cramped apartment. Doesn’t excuse what he was about to do, but like, it’s just sad.” 

“Yeah… Well… Don’t lose too much sleep over this. I don’t think he had an accomplice.” 

“And what about you? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. Don’t worry. But I am lucky. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“All right Will, have a good night.” 

“Thanks. You too.” 

And then he hung up. He rested back in his chair and sighed the longest sigh of his life. He closed his eyes, and a slight smile came over his face. He was probably thinking about the perk locked up in his cell. What was he doing? Banging his head against the wall of the padded cell? Crying in the corner, flabbergasted that his plan failed so horribly? Or was he just lying on the jail cell bed, trying to get used to the uncomfortable plank of wood, for he knew the beds in prison were much worse? He didn't know. All he knew was, he was sitting in a comfy desk chair, while his adversary was rotting in jail.