"You should be honored, for I, the great genius Winston Morse, have arrived at your shabby quarters! You should be groveling and kneeling on the ground in my presence, PIG," Winston continued, his sarcasm giving way to a menacing glare as his pupils narrowed and an aura of palpable hostility enveloped his surroundings, casting a crimson hue over the room.
The old man stammered in response, attempting to muster a retort to Winston's onslaught of insults, yet his words faltered in the face of the overwhelming fear that gripped him at the sight of the formidable figure before him.
"Y-you punk! How d-dare you uhm... e-ent-" the old man's voice trembled with indignation, but his protestations were drowned out by Winston's chilling rebuke.
"Listen here, you rotting idiot," Winston leaned in close, his gaze piercing like daggers as he pressed a finger against the old man's forehead, his words laced with a chilling intensity that sent shivers down the spines of all who bore witness to the confrontation. "You're salty because I have something you motherfuckers don't... I can dilly dally around the space-time continuum if I wanted to. You're petty because you're a sorry excuse for a researcher. You're nearly dead but still a disgrace, PIG. With a snap of a finger, I can erase you in every existence. If I felt like it, I can have you die an infinite number of deaths until you lose your mind... You will lose everything trying to cross paths with me."
A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the sound of Winston's chilling words echoing in the air. In that moment, the full weight of his power and malevolence hung like a dark cloud, casting a pall over the trembling figures who dared to stand in his presence.
"Now, to business," Winston's gaze softened into an innocent smile, and with it, the heavy aura that had suffused the room dissipated. The researchers who had been trembling and paralyzed with fear suddenly collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. With a graceful turn, Winston paid no heed to the scene he had orchestrated, leaving the old man to crumple to the ground, tears streaming down his wrinkled face.
"Ah, there it is," Winston murmured as he approached the door bearing the nameplate "President." With three deliberate knocks followed by a swift kick, the door flew open, narrowly missing the stunned face of the president who was too shocked to react in time.
"Bold of you to ask me to come here, Mr. President," Winston remarked, his voice laced with a mixture of admiration and thinly veiled threat. "It's as if you're not scared of me at all. I admire your bravery. Although, I must warn you, I'm in a rather foul mood. So, please, hurry up before you drain my patience."
The nerves on Winston's temples pulsed with frustration as he awaited the president's response, his smile belying the danger lurking beneath the surface.
"It seems I haven't made myself clear when I said I was getting impatient," Winston declared, his voice cold and devoid of remorse. With a swift motion, he produced a gun pulsating with energy, its glass chamber revealing the raw power contained within. Taking aim with deadly precision, he pulled the trigger, and a beam of light pierced the air, striking the president's head.
In an instant, the room was awash in a crimson tide as the president's head exploded, leaving nothing but a grotesque mess of bone, brain, and viscera. Yet, without missing a beat, Winston produced another weapon-a revolver adorned with a watch on its side. With practiced ease, he set the watch's hands to the correct time and fired once more.
As if by some dark miracle, the puréed corpse began to reform, its shattered remains coalescing into the familiar visage of the president, who gazed upon the horror of his own demise with disbelief and terror.
"How was your first time dying, Mr. President?" Winston's smile widened, twisted with a sadistic gleam. "Care for another round?" His voice dripped with a chilling mix of amusement and malice as he watched the president, previously seated, collapse to the ground. Convulsions wracked the man's body, foaming mouth and eyes rolling back into his skull.
Chapter 2: A Transcript From The Future II
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