Tonight was Sam Carson’s night. In this abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, at two in the morning, his terrifying serial killing spree would begin. Sam put on his chosen mask, which was the scariest one he could find at the thrift store. There was no one to see him in it yet, but he wanted to build the mood.

Sam waited in the corner office on the second floor of the warehouse. Rust, trash, and graffiti defined the derelict building. It looked straight out of a horror movie. It was perfect.

He had spent the last three weeks preparing, and now everything was in place. Sam sat on a folding chair in front of a table and a television. On the TV was a live feed from a camera he’d set up on the shop floor below. It showed an unconscious man wrapped in chains sitting on a chair, with only his right arm unbound. In front of the man was a table with an electronic chessboard. On the man’s head was a strange cage of metal, with many peculiar mechanisms along with spikes that pointed towards the man’s head.

While he waited for his victim to wake up, Sam pondered what name the news would end up giving him when they reported on his terrible crimes. The spider, because of his elaborate traps? Or perhaps the mastermind? Sam was giddy thinking about it, but soon noticed the man in the chair stirring through the camera feed.

Groggily, the bound man raised his head and looked around. Sam smiled, imagining he must be terrified right now. But from the looks of things, the man seemed unexpectedly composed.

Show time, Sam thought as he grabbed his microphone and voice changer.

“Hello, Evan,” Sam said, hoping the voice changer sounded extra creepy through the cheap speaker he had set up near his victim.

“Where am I?” Evan replied. “What’s going on?”

Sam pulled out the crumpled piece of paper he had written his script on. “You can think of this place like a classroom, and me as your teacher. I’m going to test you today, Evan.”

Sam paused, building tension and relishing the moment. Everything is going so well.

“What is this thing?” Evan asked about the metal contraption encasing his head.

“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Sam said with a chuckle. “Evan Masterson, when you were twelve years old, you were named the state chess prodigy. But only a few years later, you gave up chess because you said it was ‘boring.’ Well, Evan, I’ve found a way to make chess exciting for you, as well as teach you a lesson that gifts like yours shouldn’t be wasted. In front of you is a chessboard with a computer set to the highest rating you achieved as a child. You’ll be playing against it, and if you lose… well, that’s where the contraption on your head comes in. I call it the ‘Mind Prison.’ The spikes are attached to hydraulic pistons, which will force them into your brain if you are checkmated, or your game clock runs to zero. You’re playing for your life, Evan, and your time starts now.”

Sam clicked off the microphone, activated the timer, and pumped his arms and legs up and down like an excited child. He’d practiced that script in the mirror for days, and now he’d pulled it off. And the best part was: it wasn’t true. He’d rigged the game. The computer was set at a rating far surpassing any human, so there was no way for Evan to win. Sam simply took pleasure in watching his soon-to-be first victim struggle. But as he refocused, he saw Evan hadn’t moved his piece on the chessboard despite his clock ticking.

“Did you make this yourself?” Evan called out as he looked at the metal monstrosity on his head.

“….yes,” Sam replied.

“Who taught you how to weld?” Evan asked with a snort.” It looks like a little kid made it.” With his unbound hand, he grabbed one of the metal bars of the cage and started pulling on it.

Sam scratched his neck and glanced down at the floor. “I-I taught myse—.” In a panic, Sam covered his mouth and then grabbed the voice changer, which he had neglected. “I taught myself,” he said through the voice changer. “I think I did a good job.”

Evan yanked on the metal bar, and it broke free with a clank.

Sam sucked air through his clenched teeth. “Okay…please stop touching the Mind Prison. Your clock is running so…”

Continuing to feel around, Evan found wires and ripped them out.

“Wait! Stop!” Sam shouted. “Don’t do that.” He slammed his hand down on several buttons, but to no effect.

Evan’s fingers reached the collar that looped around his neck and locked the contraption to his head. He gripped the rim and moved the ‘Mind Prison’ around.

“Why is it so loose back here?” Evan asked.

“Please focus on the chess game,” Sam said, the voice changer unable to hide the rising pitch of his voice.

Hooking his fingers under the back of the collar, Evan pulled the ‘Mind Prison’ up, and, with a little maneuvering, slid his head out. The ghastly cage fell to the ground with a crash, and several pieces broke off.

Sam’s hands snapped to the top of his head, grabbing at his hair. His rate of breathing doubled, and his eyes were wide open.

“Fine!” Sam shouted hoarsely into the microphone. “You don’t have to wear the Mind Prison, but you do still have to play the chess game.”

Not listening anymore, Evan began struggling with the chains wrapped around him. He leaned this way and that, testing the restraints, and looked down to where the chains were anchored to the floor.

“Did you try to drive regular nails into this floor?” Evan asked mockingly. When Sam didn’t respond, Evan laughed. “This is a concrete floor; you have to use hardened nails.”

“All I had were the regular kind,” Sam replied.

Evan leaned hard to one side, causing the bent and shattered nails at the anchor point to break free. With his restraints no longer fixed, he fell over to one side.

Sam buried his face in his hands and began to shake and grind his teeth. Summoning every shred of self-control he had left, he tried his best to speak calmly into the mic. “I see you’ve escaped your restraints, but unfortunately for you, I’ve locked all the doors and windo—. “

Sam was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. Evan had thrown the folding chair through a nearby window, and Sam looked just in time to see Evan climbing out of the building.

Sam screamed involuntarily.

***

“I’m Dan Stevenson with your six o’clock local news. Our top story tonight: town boob, Sam Carson, tried to be some kind of horror movie murderer and totally botched it. After his arrest, police said they weren’t sure what to charge him with because he had messed everything up so badly. They ended up throwing him in prison anyway, however, after everyone decided that was where he belonged. We go now to Sam’s unrequited high school crush, Beth Harper, for comment.”

“Nothing about this story surprises me, Dan.”

“Thanks, Beth. Moving on to the weather…”