Scapegoat

Steve arrived at exactly eleven minutes after the call.

‘Mmmfgghhh…mmmfgghh’

The muffled sound of a person crying for help echoed in the empty room.

‘B-boss…I’m h-here’

Steve says,his stuttering voice striken with fear.

He could bearly breathe,be it the smoke in the room,the bloody and old smell of the room or the oppressive aura jake emits Steve finds it difficult to stay calm as he shakes all over and struggles for breath.

He had been standing for over five minutes and Jake did nothing but smoke,the more time passed by the more he knows he’s about to meet his doom.

Jake had his back turned to Steve the whole time,smoking.

He drops the cigarette on the floor,steps on it firmly with precise strength and turns around slowly.

Black lines formed on his forehead as his hands bulge into a fist,shaking.

The veins on his forehead bulges threatening to burst out of his skin and his eyes red and bloodshot.

He abhors late comers the most,people who do not stick to time,people who slack off and o