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Rage!!!

🇨🇦Lotis7
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Synopsis
Josh meanders through life without a sense of purpose after the tragic loss of his lover. In denial, he clings onto the idea that maybe she could be found, or, at the very least, he could take his revenge on those who are responsible. Will Josh be able to find his lover? Will he turn his life around for the better? Or maybe, just maybe, things take a turn for the worse...
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Chapter 1 - Grief

 In the beginning there was a spark; a universe was born. All universes are born unique each featuring their own physical constants and restraints. But there are things beyond this – things regular mortal minds would find incomprehensible. Forces that exist beyond the universes' set limitations. A seed appears.

 

Soaring through the empty void that is space there is a glimmer of light. A metallic object that looks like a vertically cut egg flies at incredible speeds almost unfathomable to the human mind – certainly faster than the speed of light. It manages to slip past the infinite horizon of the universe and sneak past watchful guardians, all gigantic and arms outstretched and interlaced with one another as if they were holding the universe's mass together keeping it from ripping apart. The metal egg subsequently reached its destination: Earth.

 A man seated in an oversized chair, holding his hands together looking at several laptop monitors, captures a bright sphere landing over a horizon. "Finally, the time has come," said the mysterious figure. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to show up."

 

 

It was 6:36 a.m in the sleepy suburbs of Broward County. Most of the inhabitants remain dormant except for one person residing in the beautiful neighbourhood of Flora Drive.

 Thump thump thump. The sprinklers activate and spray a lawn with overgrown grass. Thump thump thump. A leaf falls off a tree and lightly falls onto a roof then slides down where it is accompanied by its compatriots in a gutter filled to the brim. Thump thump thump. A broken beer bottle lay on a patio in the backyard – the household is occupied. Thump thump thump thump. A bottle filled with protein powder with a few globs of the substance hangs on its spout for dear life. Thump thump thump thump thump. A young, grey sleeping pitbull curled up in its perfectly sized bed, twitches its ears in response to the loud thumping noise.

 A muscular man wearing a white tank top and grey sweatpants soaked with sweat pouring profusely from his body, has his eyes focused on his target – a reflex bag standing unfazed before him. He shuffles from side to side. First left, then right, and suddenly with a powerful swing with his right arm he hits the bag with tremendous force. Thump! The bag flies backwards in reaction to the strike but thanks to the heavy bags of sand attached to the bottom of the stand, the reflex bag does not fall over. Instead, it swings itself back for more action as if it was offering a counter-attack to the assailant. The man bobs his head to the right dodging the reflex ball's offensive perfectly with such calculating precision with no excess space or wasted energy. Positioning himself for the final strike, the man uppercuts the reflex ball with his right arm. With this strike the ball falls to the ground permanently due to the added support of the weights being knocked away from the base and slumping to its side – the reflex ball has been defeated.

 "Too easy," said the drenched man.

The man dissatisfied with the course of events brings in three more reflex balls to help the beaten one. He positions one in the north, the south, the east, and finally the west forming a square or box configuration.

 He smiles to himself. "Humph. This oughta do it" as he steps directly in the centre of the reflex balls.

 The man takes three big forceful puffs of air. In a few seconds of extreme speed the man smacks the first reflex ball to the north of him, then to south by using a sort backwards punch; very unorthodox, next coming a right swing to the reflex ball and a following left swing to the reflex ball located to the right of him.

The coming barrage of reflective counter-attacks at him were equally as fast and ferocious but the man held his ground – expertly evading and striking back at the attackers with even more force and speed.

This continued on until the man decided that enough was enough. The man had a face of growing rage and was breathing fast, the adrenaline pumping throughout his body and mind. He punched the back, left, and right-side reflex balls with such power that every ball was on the floor and did not get back up - leaving one last reflex ball remaining right in front of him. Blurry visions of a smiling woman wearing a gown enter his mind. The man agitated from the visions shakes them off. He screamed one final triumphant war cry, cocking his right arm for one final blow, putting all his weight into it, and then he swung. Bam! The final reflex ball was hurled to the floor, however, due to the sheer force of the impact the ball bounced right back up. The man ready to dodge the swift counter pivoted to dart his head to the side but then he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his right knee, losing his balance, and the last reflex ball hit the man square in the face, slipping on his own pool of sweat, and falling to the ground. He lay there breathing rapidly in defeat.

A light began to illuminate the room starting with the top of the man's head as it peered through the garage door windows – sunrise. Still upset that he has been bested by an inanimate object he rises once more to continue the fight. All of these feelings dissipated once he heard a small but very noticeable sound coming from across the room.

"Arf," whimpered a small grey pitbull puppy curiously approaching the soaked and exhausted man sitting on the floor – concerned for its owner's well-being.

"Oh sorry Creedyboy," the man gently said. "Papa got a little too heated."

The man got back up and wobbled over the counter and leaned on it for support. He grabbed his protein shake and took a big gulp from his bottle and took a sigh of relief – feeling renourished and refreshed. "Cmon Creedyboy. How about a treat?"

Creed jumped up in excitement with the word "treat." The two make their exit from the garage and make their way to the kitchen. The man grabs a box of treats from atop the fridge and pulls out a thick brown snack in the shape of a bone.

"Creed sit!" ordered the man.

The puppy wagging its tail in excitement calms down just as suddenly from the introduction of the treat due to the man's order. Creed sat down immediately and looked up to its master with great submissiveness. The tone of his master's voice exuded a sense of authority yet loving kindness. Creed trusts the man before him and he followed his orders without much resistance – at least when it comes to some commands.

"Good boy," the man said, as he tossed the treat into the air, Creed lunged and grabbed the treat midair; turning around to finish the treat in the corner of the kitchen.

The man opened the fridge hoping to find something that would satiate his growing appetite. But alas, he is met with nothing but a plate of leftover unseasoned cooked chicken breast, a carton of milk, and one can of beer.

"Dang. I gotta restock, ain't anything in here."

The man pulled out the plate of chicken breast from the fridge and warmed it up in the microwave. He opened the kitchen cabinets and took out a cup and placed it on the countertop next to the carton of milk. With a tired expression on his face – not from sleeping but working out all night – he pours the contents of the milk container into his cup. Meanwhile, the microwave starts beeping, alerting the man that the chicken has finished being warmed up. A face of disappointment rises from him; the milk barely fills up a third of the cup, the beeping growing louder and louder as the man zones out into the cup.

 

Beep beep. The man got out of his silver sedan. It is not too aged but not too young; the perfect car a single man of the middle class can afford. He tossed his keys up in the air and with a horizontal swipe of his hand he grabbed the keys and tucked them away in his pocket – making sure to double-click the button on his keys so the doors stay locked.

What's left in the car is a whining Creed as he puts two of his legs against the glass of the front door looking at his master walking away into the large superstore building. Creed is unharmed and physically comfortable since his master thoughtfully turned on the air conditioner so the car stays at a nice cool temperature. The windows are cracked down just a bit, so fresh air can circulate within the automobile, but not so much that any unwelcome guest can stick their hand or even fingers through.

The man sneakily walked into the supermarket with a hunched posture now wearing a grey hoodie over his white tank top to match with his grey sweatpants. He had his hoodie up to conceal his face.

He quickly headed towards the meat aisle taking whatever he can get at a discount; chicken breast is on the menu once more. All that's left is the milk. He makes his trip to the dairy section following an unorthodox and inefficient path so that he can avoid close contact with the other shopgoers. He prefers watching people from a distance.

A scrawny white man with a thick moustache and glasses whistles a cheery tune and approaches the end of the supermarket. His attire consisted of an unbuttoned, short-sleeved t-shirt. The t-shirt is red and has small palm trees overlaid all over as its design. He pulled open a glass door and held it open with his body. Reaching for two milk cartons he places them in his basket. Just as the man was about to leave and close the door he stopped whistling – he felt a presence nearby, as if someone was watching him. The scrawny man sees a man with a grey hoodie glaring at him, studying his moves. The scrawny man picks up his basket and darts out of the milk section only taking a few hurried, scared glances back at the domineering figure.

"Get it together, Joshua. You're scaring people," sighed Joshua. "I don't have time to play detective; Creed is waiting for me."

Joshua, undisturbed by the freezing temperatures of the dairy aisle, on the contrary welcoming it to cool his hot body from the workout, grabbed three large cartons of milk and some greek yogurt. On his way back to the front of the supermarket, he took routes to minimise contact with other shoppers until he spotted the pet aisle.

"Hmm. Maybe I could get something for Creed."

Joshua looked at the prices of all the dog food and treats. The prices are absurd and not even remotely cheap. He takes a look at the left where sitting on the shelf is a bag of dog treats shaped like bones. The bags say that these treats clean a dog's teeth and keep their gums healthy as well – the price is hefty. Joshua looks to the right with a bag kibble – the price is decent.

Joshua, holding a cart of his groceries containing dog-shaped treats along with the rest of food items, heads to the self-checkout lanes but notices from a distance that there is a chain stretched across from end to end with a sign saying "Down for Maintenance."

"Great. Just great." Joshua peered from one of the aisles to see who the cashier is at this time of day.

Angel: a man with curly black hair, pale white skin, and a thin but strong body. His demeanour is lax – or as he would put it, "chill." Wearing the superstores red employee outfit, he bobbed up and down to the rhythm of a beat playing in his head, while he rapidly scans the items of an attending customer.

"Of all people it had to be Angel," remarked Joshua. He looks across the supermarket one last time to make sure he has exercised all of his options hoping for someone else to work the register in an alternative lane but to no avail. "Damn."

Joshua approaches the cash register and tries his best to use the side of his hoodie to mask his identity. He places his grocery items on the conveyor belt.

"Are you a part of our rewards program? With the program you might qualify to earn a few points so you save – hey! I know you! Joshy, it's been so long, how have you been?"

"Terrible," Joshua said with a tiresome exhale.

"Oh I'm sorry… listen I didn't mean to… uh…"

"It's fine."

"Josh. I know what it's like to lose a loved one. You know? You just need to let go and–"

"Alright, I said it's fine," Joshua said with impatience. "Can you just scan all my items and tell me what I owe you?"

"Uh yeah sure," said Angel with a shake of his head, speeding up and scanning all the items. "Your total is $220.65."

Joshua took out his wallet and pulled out his credit card. He inserted his credit card into the scanner. Transaction Declined. Joshua, alarmed, tries again. Transaction Declined. A drop of sweat forms on Angel due to the awkwardness of the situation – he was an extrovert and usually knew how to make conversation, but this is not one of those times.

"Hey," said Joshua, startling Angel. "Can I pay $120 in cash and the rest in credit?"

"Of course!" responded Angel.

Luckily the transaction pulled through.

"Alright, thank you Angel. And remember if you see anything suspicious let me know, ok?"

"Okay. But Joshy, I don't think this is healthy. Learning t–" Angel cut himself short due to the glaring man standing before him.

"You were saying?"

"Nothing. I'll keep watch for anything suspect, bro. Don't you worry. "

"Thank you. And don't call me that – call me Josh," said Joshua as he left for the exit.

"Yeah. Sorry bro," Angel said, waving farewell to his friend who has long since turned his back away from him.

 

Early evening, that same day, Angel finished his shift at work. He walked outside the store, closing his bag that had his personal items. A white van had its engines running in the parking lot and the security camera aimed at the front of the store shut down. A sound caught Angel's attention to his left. He turned his head and saw two robots approach him…

 

"Alright Creed" said Joshua towering over the small pup in his kitchen.

Joshua took the recently purchased dog treat from the store and broke the treat into bite-sized chunks that fit into the palm of his hand. He was running out of money and although he didn't want to admit it, the awkward conversation with Angel proved otherwise.

"Creedyboy," Joshua exclaimed in a high-pitched voice only meant for his puppy's ears. "Alright sit. Rollover. Good! Now stay…" as Joshua slowly placed the treat on Creed's nose. "Ok stay–"

Creed immediately flicked the treat into the air and swallowed it whole – totally missing his master's intention and then ran off to another room to play with his toys.

"We'll work on that part later," remarked Joshua now standing alone in the kitchen.

 Joshua turned off the kitchen lights and headed towards the living room. There is a blinking light coming from the telephone sitting on a small black countertop next to a single sofa. 5 unheard messages. Joshua put in his passcode for the voicemail and put the phone on speaker. Tired from the outing and his overnight training he slumps into the sofa, lying back and closing his eyes, leaving only his ears attentive.

 An automated message sounded from the speaker. "Hello. This is a message from the Employment Office for the County of Broward. We thank you for your interest and find it commendable that you took the initiative in reaching out to us. Unfortunately, we have 0 job opportunities in–"

 Joshua pressed the '7' button on his phone.

 "Message deleted. New message."

 "Hello. This is a message from the Employment Office for the County of Broward. Unfortunately, due to an unusually high application rate we couldn't–"

 "Message deleted. New message."

 "Hello sir, we are calling you to inform you of suspicious activity in your Jungle account. To confirm your identity, dial the TIN number on your phone–"

 "Message deleted. New message."

 A white noise followed by an abrupt cut of the phone call played from the telephone speaker.

 "Do you want to save or delete this message? Press–"

 Joshua pressed the '7' button once more.

 "Message deleted. New message."

 "Cheap old phone start with the old messages first. I mean who designed that – there should be a way to fix it," complained Joshua.

 "Hello. This is a message from the Employment Office for the County of Broward. Congratulations, we are pleased to tell you that you have been selected by the company, Agency Robotics, to work the occupation of janitor or night guard. We have set up an appointment for you on March 31st 5031 at 8:38a.m."

 Hmmm. The Agency Robotics Company. Guess it's finally my lucky break. Joshua turned on his phone to see the date as the voice continued to explain the details in the background. "Today is March 30th. Crap I don't have a babysitter for Creed tomorrow – not that I have the money for that anyways. Maybe they allow pets indoors?" Joshua mentioned hastily to himself as he searched on the web on whether or not The Agency Robotics Company is pet friendly.

 Scrolling through and clicking on the pet's policy on the company website Joshua read the following statement out loud: "Domesticated pets such as dogs and cats are allowed however exotic or foreign pets are not permissible on company property."

 "Creed, did you hear that?" Joshua yelled, extending his head outwardly towards the exit of the living room making sure that Creed heard him from the toy room.

 Creed bolted back into the living room running around Joshua with excitement; not sure of what his master meant but could sense his happiness. True happiness and relief; Creed could feel it.

 

 "This is the spot?" Joshua looked at the building with a bit of an underwhelmed look on his face. The interview location was not found at the big, spacious, tech-centric building Joshua had envisioned entering. Instead he was met with an inconspicuous parts and repair service shop wedged in between two restaurants. There was no separate parking lot for the accompanying street so he had to insert some coins into a parking meter.

 At least Joshua did not need to worry about leaving Creed alone in the car anymore. He figured that if too much time passed by he would simply exit the building and do a quick checkup to make sure everything was fine. Joshua left his car settings just perfect for Creed like he does for his supermarket stops and he got out of the car.

 Joshua entered the building, observing his surroundings and taking in all the fancy gadgetry and phones placed neatly around him. Across from him was the cashier's counter but to no cashier in sight.

 "Hello sir!" cheerily exclaimed the store cashier popping up from behind Joshua – startling him from the unexpected greeting.

 "H-hey," Joshua responded nervously with the oddly friendly employee standing before him.

 "We just received a shipment of the latest Q-Phone 17. I was just restocking them, lifting and pointing his head at the right side of the room behind Joshua where there was a door opening to a hallway showing where he popped out from.

 "Oh cool…"

 "Anyways, what can I do for you?" asked the employee with a big grin on his face.

 "Sorry, I'm not looking to buy anything. I was told by my job recruiter that you were hiring. They gave me this address. This is the right spot, correct?"

 "Sure thing!" The lanky employee stretched his arm pointing to the door opening on the right side of the room. "The manager's room is just down the hallway and his room is the first to the right."

 "Thanks."

 "No problem. Good luck." Joshua left the room and entered the hallway speedily, feeling the employees stare behind him. It gave him the shivers.

 The manager's room was small and claustrophobic. There were no windows allowing any natural light to enter the room. Instead, a warm incandescent bulb lit the room, only amplifying the humidity even further.

 In the centre of the room was a clean and polished wooden table. On the table was a fan pointed away from the exit of the room and towards the manager leaving no relief of cool air for any visitors. Next to the fan, was a gold-coloured desk name plate with the name "LOWELL DORDON" and in smaller font just underneath the centred name was the occupation "OFFICE MANAGER."

The manager sitting at the desk had the regular build you would expect an office worker to have; not athletic but certainly not obese. He had very white skin as if he was a vampire deprived of sunlight. The manager had short cut hair and a black suit. No sign of sweat anywhere near his body and his eyes had a very glassy look to them. He emanated a very clean, polished, and professional look. Almost to an unnatural degree.

"Welcome, you must be the job applicant, am I correct?" questioned Lowel, still seated in his chair, eyeing and carefully studying Joshua.

"Hello Mr. Dordon, yes I am" responded Joshua, trying to sound as formal as possible and keeping as straight a posture he can muster.

"Please. Call me Low. Take a seat. I know this shouldn't be a surprise to you but we always screen our applicants away from the company headquarters. For security reasons, of course," said Lowel, gesturing his hands towards Joshua's seat.

The visitor's chair was lower in height compared to the managers. Joshua now has to tilt his head upwards to have proper eye contact with the manager. The setup was intentional and reaffirmed the status of both men in the room.

"Okay. Thanks Low. I am really excited about this job opportunity, sir. So what am I going to do: janitor work or night guard duty?" Joshua asked eagerly.

"Woah. Well I do appreciate your enthusiasm, let's first go through your resume, shall we?"

Resume? I thought I got the job already – at least that's what it sounded like from the voicemail. Joshua nodded his head and smiled. "Sure."

"Okay, let's see… Joshua Gilbert," said Lowel, as his eyes scan through the document that he is holding in his hands. "To be completely honest your resume is quite lacklustre, but for this job, that is not a problem."

"Alright."

"But what does concern me is your one year gap from your last employment. Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Well, it's kind of personal sir, I'd rather not."

"Oh don't worry Mr. Gilbert. Everything spoken within the confines of this room is confidential. Not a peep of what is spoken here will be spoken elsewhere."

"I don't know Low. I still feel uncomfortable talking about it," Joshua replied, trying not to sound irritated.

Mr. Dordon, now wide-eyed, studying Joshua presses further for a split second. "You know, I did a little internet search on you, Mr. Gilbert," Lowel said, now leaning in towards Joshua as if he is about to tell a secret. "I know what happened to your girlfriend," he whispered.

"What!" Joshua stated bluntly, his voice deepening as the facade of the submissive and enthusiastic employee wore off.

"Yes. It's all over the internet about what happened to your girlfriend – so pretty. The first few links that pop up when I search your name are all about it."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that it is okay. It is not your fault. These things are a lot more common than you think, especially in the suburbs and metropolises of this world."

"What is more common?"

Lowel ignored Joshua's body language and visual discomfort. He seemed to be intentionally trying to upset Joshua. "Since you work at the most prestigious technology and healthcare institution, we offer healthcare benefits and that includes therapy services."

"You didn't answer my question. What is more common?" Joshua said, his voice getting angrier and more agitated by the second. A slight red glow emanated from Joshua's eyes for a split second. One second that Lowel noticed.

"It's been a year, Josh, my good boy. Your girlfriend is dea–"

Joshua stands up and grabs Lowel by the collar. "Don't you dare say it, you bastard!" screamed Joshua.

"Ahh! Let go of me!" screamed back Lowel.

Joshua quickly realising what he had just done, let go of Lowel.

"That's it, get out! You are hereby banned from this establishment – I'll see to it you never set foot in this place again!"

Joshua, already up from his seat, walked out towards the exit of the room. The cashier sat at his cash register smiling, totally ignoring the noise from the room but Joshua did not notice as he stormed out the repair shop without looking back and just headed straight for the exit with anger and shame on his face.

"Whatever, I'm done with this crap!" Joshua uttered to get the last word in, as he pushed the exit door.

 

Sitting in his room contemplating the events that transpired today. Joshua got up. He was not an idle man and would constantly pace back and forth if he was upset. He headed to the kitchen and grabbed a crate of beer bottles. He guzzled down three bottles – enough to blur his vision. Then he danced a pseudo ballroom dance. Envisioning his lost lover.

Letting his imagination and his dulled senses get the better of him, he started to remember the last time he danced with her. It was magnificent; wearing a white dress, she danced gracefully with classical music in the background.

"Lalalalala…" drunkenly murmured Joshua.

Finally, he found himself and his crate of beer on top of the roof of his house. Joshua sat crouched down and he stared up at the star-filled sky. What looked like a comet flew by his eyes.

"Where are you?" Joshua said weakly, "You can't be gone. You just can't, it isn't like you." "I swear on my soul, if I ever figure out whoever was behind this," Joshua threatened, gripping the half empty beer bottle in his hand tighter, "they are gonna get it." Taking the last few gulps of beer, he tossed the bottles and they landed at the very back corner of his yard with other beer bottles from previous drunken nights. Joshua made sure to aim at a spot where Creed would not be able to access the broken glass.

 

"It's not fair…" slurred Joshua, remembering his last moments with her, the anger on his face slowly dissipating and turning into sorrow. He was yelling at her in the living room, although he can't recall the reason behind it. Tears welled up inside his drowsy eyes. "I'm sorry."

Joshua fell silent, pausing himself to reminisce in the past; sounds only coming from the crickets, frogs, and other creatures of the night. Involuntarily, he made a big yawn. I better go to bed. I don't want to fall asleep and accidentally fall off my roof. What would Creed do without me? Looking up at the starry night one last time. Yup, it's just you and me now Creed. Joshua made his way down to the ground and into his bedroom. He looked over to his left to find a curled up Creed sleeping peacefully. Maybe I should take Creed for a walk. That way I could set up some posters along the way.

Joshua plopped himself onto his bed, face-forward and let his body slowly sink into the mattress as his consciousness drifted away. Yeah. That's just what I'll do tomorrow.

 

Joshua, still feeling the effects of last night's decision, stood before a printer. He is in his work room. The printer steadily outputted his posters – a stack full of them in fact. Once the printer stopped he took the pile of posters and held them in his hands, he stared at them almost getting lost in thought. He snaps back before losing himself in another nostalgic daydream.

Joshua jingled his car keys and took out his dog leash from out of his pocket. "Creed! Come here!" yelled Joshua.

Creed darted in the room, knowing that he was about to venture outdoors with his master. He ran into the room and around Joshua, wagging his tail and barking with great delight.

"Creed, sit!" ordered Joshua.

Creed obeyed and sat in front of him.

Joshua took his leash and attached it to Creed's collar. "Good boy." The leash and collar looked weathered and cheap. It seems he purchased the used items from a thrift store to save cash. Joshua left the room, with Creed following right behind him, entered the kitchen and took two pieces of the broken dog treats. He placed one in his pocket for later and gave the other to Creed promptly.

Joshua took a seat in his car alongside Creed sitting to his right in the front.

"Okay Creed, we are going to a new spot. A whole new neighbourhood for you to explore. That means new people, new buildings, and new trees for you to pee on!" laughed Joshua, rubbing his hand on Creed's head as Creed stuck out his tongue and started panting in eagerness.

Joshua frowned and got serious for a moment. "That means I want you to be on your best behaviour. Understand?" Creed tilted his head and stared back at Joshua innocently – a sight Joshua found very cute. "Alright, good!" He carefully reversed the car and pulled out from the driveway – making sure not to hit the three cars consecutively lined up on the other side of the street: a blue SUV, an ominous white van in the middle, and lastly a silver sedan.

 

The effects of the alcohol began to wear off, putting Joshua in a very good mood. He whistled, tapped his steering wheel, and once in a while looked to his side to smile at Creed. Joshua noticed an open parking spot with no cars at all. The parking space was surrounded by what looked to be vacant buildings with no signs or artwork to be seen – just plain as a bricked building could be. Maybe these buildings were used for storage or inventory? He figured it was no big deal as it was early in the morning and the sun was just rising above the horizon, giving the sky an orange-yellowish hue, and he could not spot any parking signs that disallowed the park's use. 

Joshua parked the car and got out from the driver's door. He had a big stretch – his morning stretch – waking up his body and mind. He still wears the same attire he wore at the interview – his shopping attire – the only difference being he has a belt around his waist. Placing his arms together at his hips to form a power stance, he looked on at the new neighbourhood with determination. I'll do whatever it takes to find you. I'll cover the whole county. Someone definitely must have seen something.

He pulled open the trunk of the car and lifted out a small toy wagon. Taking the pile of posters in his arms from his car seat, he places the posters into his wagon. Also on his car seat lay a pocket sized stapler and some tape, he closed the front door and opened the other side to let Creed out. He grabs ahold of Creed's leash and attaches it to his belt. Posters in his arms, stapler and tape in his pocket, and leash attached to his belt, he heads out into the new area to hang his posters.

Joshua spotted a wooden pole next to a street lamp, a perfect place to attach a poster. He pulls his wagon, grabs one poster and staples it to the pole. At the top of the poster reads "MISSING" with a big photo of Joshua's girlfriend. She is a black woman with voluptuous curly black hair, smiling ear to ear, with puffy but sweet welcoming eyes. The bottom of the poster has a 1-800 number on it and it refers to a detective named "John Family."

Off he went. He pasted and stapled his posters throughout the new zone in hopes that someone would give the slightest clue of where she could be. He met some people walking on their way to work or during their morning routines – some accepted the posters and promised to spread the word while others, the busier ones, simply raised up a hand to say "no thank you" and went about their day. Whether intentional or not, some individuals came to Joshua instead to pet Creed which he allowed with the condition that they take a missing persons poster, which they happily obliged and further expressed their condolences on the matter. This carried on for over an hour and he would have kept on going had he not noticed that Creed was getting tired.

Creed was excessively panting more than usual in attempts to cool his body off. Thankfully, Joshua stored some water and treats in the back of his car.

"Okay boy, let's go back and get you some water," Joshua told Creed, as he hunched over, picked Creed up and carried him by his side. The full stack of missing persons posters was now reduced by three-quarters of its original size. A very productive morning in Joshua's eyes.

Creed, seeing the car and anticipating its cool interior, jumped out of his master's arms and pulled on the leash running in excitement. It snapped as he ran off to the car. "Creed!" yelled Joshua, running to try to catch him but alas he gave up – Creed made too much ground.

As Joshua approached the parking lot to fetch his parched puppy some water, he noticed a white van parked directly opposite to his car. Joshua's eyes narrowed in suspicion but he kept walking to his car making sure not to avert his eyes from the van.

"Creed!" Joshua beckoned again to his puppy. He was starting to get worried. He couldn't have gone far.

Joshua, standing beside his car, car keys in hand, looked into the front mirror of the van – no one. He averted his eyes to search his surroundings for Creed, quickly casting a stare back at the van. Nothing. You're worrying too much. These guys probably work at one of these buildings.

Suddenly, the left side of the white van rolled open. Stepping out was not a human but a bipedal robot, followed by two more; Agency Robots, talked about on TV although he never saw one in person. They were supposed to be state of the art robots from Agency Robotics designed by Dr. Muktar – the humble but business-savvy robotics genius entrepreneur himself. There were two models: one for factory or industrial work and the other for hospitality work. The hospitality robots are supposedly equipped with an AI trained from a supercomputer giving the robots the capability to understand and converse with humans and are painted with bright colours. These robots were white and grey in colour - factory robots. Factory robots are designed for manual labour and have low conversational skills. The robots had two, what looked to be, camera lenses for eyes emanating two glowing blue lights at the centre. Their mouths had an animated string displayed by an LCD screen attached to the southern hemisphere of the head.

Raising his hands to surrender, Joshua apologised, "Oh sorry, I'm not sure if I am allowed to use the parking lot but I didn't see any signs telling me otherwise and the fences were open. I'm leaving right now so I won't be a problem."

The three robots kept walking to Joshua without a change in pace, completely ignoring him.

Then popping out from the other side of his car was a fourth robot holding Creed. Creed was quiet but unharmed.

A moment of relief fell on Joshua's face knowing that Creed was fine. "Thank you for finding him," expressed Joshua, extending his arms out to receive his puppy. But the robot, still facing Joshua, backed off slowly as the other three robots came marching forward.

Joshua tensed up – something is not right. Then at alarming speed the closest robot lunged at him for a strike!

"WTF!"

 Joshua's instincts kicked in as he dodged the punch with a look of surprise on his face. The other two robots joined in, throwing a fury of punches at Joshua. He evades all the strikes from the robots, meanwhile tagging each of the robots by punching their heads; just like training.

Within the first few seconds of fighting, Joshua immediately began to enter a flow state as the adrenaline started to flood his body once more, making sure that not a single punch touched him. Things were looking good for Joshua until he heard a yelp. Creed!

Joshua looked up, focusing his vision on the fourth robot holding out Creed by the scruff of his neck. The robot dropped the scared puppy and stomped him with one blow. One final horrifying squeal rushed to Joshua's ears. It was over.

"Creed!" cried Joshua.

The once happy pup lay there motionless on the ground; blood slowly oozing from his body.

Joshua, livid, almost unable to process the events before him, pushed through the three robots that encircled him and dashed at the fourth robot. Joshua cocked his right arm for a heavy punch. But then, crack! His right knee gave out again, making Joshua lose his form.

The fourth robot monotonous voice grunted, "Safeguard mode activated." The line displayed on the LCD screen on the bottom of its face moved in conjunction to visually signify the audio in soundwave format. The robot got into a martial arts stance readying itself to kick the angry man.

Joshua's punch missed its target, however, it still made enough contact to scratch and crack the robot's head. Simultaneously, having observed him, the robot cleanly kicked Joshua's left knee. His knee bent backwards from the sheer force of the impact and Joshua screamed at the top of his lungs in pain. He fell to the floor in agony. The fight had reached its conclusion and it was barely over half a minute. But the robots were not done yet, they circled around the man in agony and each robot kicked his body to a pulp. It was a massacre not a fight.

All that was left of the scene were two mangled bodies: both owner and pet. The robots grunted to each other, as if they were communicating in an indecipherable tongue. Three of the robots carried both of the bodies to the back of the white van – the other robot acted as a lookout to make sure nobody saw what was happening. Then one of the robots took out what looked like a fleshy sponge. They placed the sponge on top of the bloody pools of the bodies and it soaked up all of the blood without a single trace left on the scene. Meanwhile, the other two robots each opened a black bag containing water and ice. They placed both bodies into their own separate bags carefully and zipped up the bags.

The white van's door closed and it drove off leaving no trace of what occurred.