The Letter D-Part 2

Part 2

I awoke. I opened my eyes. Darkness. Was I at the dentist’s office? This table sure felt like one of Dr. Fred’s tables, however, unless it’s a bad day, Dr. Fred usually doesn’t usually strap me down.
“Hello!” my call echoed across the apparently large room,”is anybody the-“ a hand clamped over my mouth.
“Shut up, kid!” the hand’s owner scolded in a whisper. Hmm…that voice sounded familiar. I thought
I kept quiet as the hand left my mouth and the footsteps pitter-pattered away.
After a few minutes of quiet, I whispered,” Hello?”
“What?” said that familiar voice.
“Where am I?” I asked.
“At school,” came the reply.
“What part?”
“Underneath it.”
“How?” I asked.
“Well, “ he said,” it’s a long story.”
“Tell me.”
“Alright. About 25 years ago, a lady named Mary Denelux started the Parragon Mining Corporation. After a few years, she started selling her top export, dynamite, to various terrorist organizations. Mary played a part in the Oklahoma City bombings and other disasters. The terrorists convinced her to join them, and she then went on to be an inside terrorist for the Taliban in America, and, believe it or not, she built her first base right here, about three years before your school was built.”
“Then we must be inside of her building,” I said, a hint of fear creeping up my spine.
“Yes, we are, but you didn’t let me finish. Mary was discovered here when your school was built. She was supposed to serve a life sentence in jail, but she paid her bond and fled to Tanzania. No one has seen her since, at least, no one is willing to say that they have. I’m here on a lead that she is back and trying to execute some new plan of hers,” said the voice.
“Neat, but, who are you?” I asked.
“I’m Mr. Herrera,” said the no longer unknown voice.
“Wow!” I said,” So, you’re not really a math teacher?”
“No, I’m not,” he said,” I work for MI6.”
“THE MI6?”
“Yes.”
Bang! The gunshot rang throughout the room. As I heard it ricochet off of something metal, my eyes flew to the sight of the shooter-Ms. D.! So she was Mary Denelux! I thought. Wow. Terrorism really took its toll on her.
“Why did you eat that popsicle?!?!” she asked.
“I was hungry,” I replied.
“That was for the principal! I was going to bring him in and get the password to the school’s bank accounts!”
“I didn’t mean to foil your plan,” I said.
“Well you did, and you’re going to pay!” she screamed.
She flicked a switch and the lights came on. The room was covered with large shipping crates that looked kind of like dumpsters. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the large hypodermic needle moving towards me with a yellow liquid inside of it. I also saw the table with an array of fork and knife-looking things on it.
“That capsule in the popsicle cost me 15,000 dollars!” she yelled.
“I sure am sorry, again, I didn’t mean to do any harm!” I told her.
“That’s too bad, sonny, ‘cause you’re gonna pay!”
She pressed a button on the wall, and a keypad flipped out from a brick. She then moved a joystick that moved the hypodermic needle towards my stomach.
“This will slowly cause all of the mucus that lines your stomach to wane away while the potent acids in your stomach dissolve first your stomach, then your entire internal organ system!” she said.
While closer and closer the needle moved, something wasn’t quite right. Where was Mr. Herrera? He worked for MI6, couldn’t he do something? How ironic! Just as I was doubting him, a crack rang through the room. Surely that was Mr. Herrera! I tried to sit up the best I could and saw a sight. The bloody body of who used to be Mr. Herrera lying on the floor.

Next installment in production.