The Therapygiver: The Deadly Deadline

This is the third series that's part of my series, the Therapygiver. The first one's here, and the second one's here. This is also going to be the last story of my series. There isn't going to be a prologue to this story, or anything else. Alright, enjoy!

Chapter 1 | The Outlandish Onset
The police officer escorted us into the back of a truck.



Police Officer: This is what you get for disrespecting the law.

Me: Wait, why are you pushing us into the back of a-

Police Officer: *slaps the back of my head* Shut your trap!



Then he shoved us into the truck. He also untied Zach (aka the guy who tried to murder us for no reason) and X (works for the other douche I told you about just now) and shoved them in as well. They shut the door, leaving us with no light, so we couldn't see each other.

I liked it much better this way, to be honest. The only bad part is that I couldn't see my brother (Ryan).

That police officer started the van and drove. Fortunately, he was stupid enough to forget to take our phones away. And you all know what that means...

Okay, maybe you don't know what that means. But it's fine. It just means that I have Minecraft Earth on my phone. And you all know that in this messed-up world that I live in, I can kill people with Minecraft (that's probably not true, because now I know that X was the one killing the people. But hey, it's still worth a shot).

So I turned on my phone, and it immediately blinded me with its maxed-out brightness. The downside? You literally just read it. The upside? I could see my brother again (including everyone else, but they're not important).



Zach: Ugh! God, could you turn it down a notch?

Me: My god, just cool your jets! Jesus, you're driving me nuts!



When I opened Minecraft Earth, the Blindness icon apeared in the top right corner of the screen. Hmm. I guess this does apply to real life. I equipped a diamond pickaxe and broke the wall separating me and the possibly-fake police officer.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Police Officer: What the... hey, aren't you supposed to-

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">I pulled out a diamond sword and murdered him. The end. I was pretty glad I was seeing all of this through my phone screen, otherwise I would've had nighmares for months. I spawned in an Enderman to take the dead body away.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: Ah-ha! Guys, we did it! Now, who knows how to drive a car? We've probably stopped in the middle of the road and everyone's very likely getting real mad at us.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">RIght on cue, we heard loud, aggresive honking from behind us. X shoved us out of the way.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Step aside guys, I'm older than all of you here. I can kill people. I can sneak into high-level security buildings without being noticed. I can certainly drive a car.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Ryan: Jeez. Showing off there a bit much, don't you think?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: *starts driving back to our house* Excuse me?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Ryan: You're the one who's boasting about, "oh, I snuck into cool places and killed people without being arrested!" Well, you know you got beaten by a bunch of kids, right?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: First of all, you're teenagers. Second of all, you didn't really defeat me. The police came and knocked me out cold.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Ryan: Well, first of all, I'm ten and Ethan's 12. Second of all, we actually did defeat you. We tied both of you up with shoelaces.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Oh, and, might I add, where the hell did you learn to tie someone up with shoelaces?! This seriously concerns me.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: *ahem* Well, I'm in Squadron 283 of the Royal Canadian Air Cadets, and we recently had FTX, which means Field Training Excercise. I learned how to tie different knots, like the corral knot, the figure eight knot, the lasso knot, and the x knot.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Oh-kay then. Didn't need that much of an explanation, but whatever.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Zach: Yeah, so, I feel really uncomfortable being here, so I'm gonna look in the back to see if this guy has any intresting stuff.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: Good idea. Hey Ryan, can you go with him to check if he does anything fishy?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Ryan: *shrugs* Sure. *walks off*

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: Good. Now...*points at X* ...you and I, we have things to discuss.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Oh, really? Like what?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: Why did you kill Zach's parents, and then decide to work for him?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: ...are you very patient?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: ''Oh, I don't know. Is your  backstory very long?''

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Do you want your answer or not?!

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: FINE! Go ahead!

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Okay, so where do I start...?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: I grew up to a pretty normal family. I lived up to 26, when my parents died. Once my parents died, I decided to go footloose. I went crazy, and I killed Zach's family for no reason. I still remembered his name, though. Kept repeating it like an arcade machine asking for more credits. I felt all of the craziness drain out of me afterwards. Couple of years pass by, and I'm looking for a job offer. I see one and I sign up for it. I go to the interview and see kid whose parents I killed a while back. And, whaddaya know, I got hired.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: ...that wasn't long at all.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Hey, I had to make you listen somehow. *stops the car* Oh, would you look at that, we're there.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Zach: *bursts out from the back with armloads of cool stuff* This guy had tons of cool stuff! *dumps all of the stuff on the ground* Look! He had guns, katanas, knives, axes, tactical shovels, night-vision goggles, armour, bombs, shoes...

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Ryan: Woah, big guy. Let's take a pause and head inside. It's mom and dad's working hours, so we should be safe.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">We all helped Zach haul the stuff out of the van.

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: Wait... we probably shouldn't be here.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">X: Seriously? I drove you guys all the way here and you're just gonna tell me that we're not supposed to be here?

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: Look, I love my parents and all, but I'm not gonna confuse them even more by coming back when they think we're being shipped off to prison right now. I think we can just go to some abandoned cabin in the woods or something.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Zach: I don't think that's a good idea...

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;">Me: Heck, we can even build a lean-to. Screw it, we're driving into the forest. A couple of minutes later... We arrived to the woods. We parked pretty deep into the woods, and set up a couple of tents there (hey, I told you that guy had cool stuff). We slept in for the night and examined our inventory.

Zach: Guys! This guy had a Coca-Cola fridge!

Ryan: *lifts up weird water bottle* Hey, what's up with this water bottle?

Me: Oh, I think I know! You put fruits and stuff on the inside, and that flavours the water to make it taste better!

X: *looks at shirt that says I speak French (fries)* This shirt is pretty cool, I guess...

Me: Guys, this stuff is cool and all, but shouldn't we focus on... y'know, staying alive?

X: He's right. We have to build a fire, and get food. *turns to me* You learned how to make snares, right?

Me: Uh, no, I'm only in level one.

X: Shit.