Fleeting: Short Stories

Latency

Streaming

Wednesday started like every other day for Martin. He woke up, brushed his teeth, took a shower, made oatmeal for breakfast, and started his work. Martin worked from home, and he was content. He had his daily routine, and he knew what to expect each day.

After finishing work on any given day, Martin would work out. His exercise consisted of fifty push-ups, fifty sit-ups, and thirty minutes of light jogging on the treadmill in his living room. Dinner was next, followed by a shower.

To end the day, Martin would watch his favorite webcam model's 9 P.M. show. Her name, well username, was Bunny. Martin didn't care much for animals, but he thought she was cute like a bunny and found the name fitting.

He had been watching Bunny's webcam streams for over two years. Martin budgeted $200 every month to donate to Bunny. He never second-guessed the charge on his credit card bill.

Bunny streamed every day of the week except on Friday and Saturday. Martin would spend his Friday and Saturday nights reading and watching movies. "Time off is a good thing," he told himself.

It was 9:12 P.M. and Bunny's stream still hadn't started. Bunny was always punctual, starting at 9:00 P.M. on the dot. Martin understood that sometimes things come up.

I'll wait until 9:30 before calling it a night, Martin thought.

A couple of minutes later, Bunny came online.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Martin typed into the chatroom.

Bunny smiled and winked at the camera. There was no one else watching the stream, so Martin assumed it was for him. Bunny started by dancing to electronic music. Martin had never heard her play that particular song before. How do I search the internet for a song with no lyrics? he wondered. Martin loved to listen to the music Bunny played during her streams while he worked.

Bunny wiggled her way out of her jeans.

New music and new panties? Bunny knows how to keep me watching.

As Bunny started to take off her top, there were four loud, rapid knocks. Martin looked towards his door so quickly his headphones fell off. He then realized the knocks were coming from the stream.

Bunny jumped up. Martin put his headphones back on and heard the sound of wood snapping, followed by a muffled bang. The webcam's viewing angle wasn't wide enough for Martin to see what was happening.

Bunny shrieked and stepped back into the view of the webcam. Two large men followed. They were wearing balaclavas. One man had on a brown coat, the other a black coat. The man in brown had a baseball bat in his right hand.

"Where's our money?" asked the man in black.

"I don't have it yet, you fucking idiot. If I had it, I would have dropped it off earlier. I'm working tonight, get out of here."

"Where is our fucking money?" asked the man in black again.

"Just give me another week, okay? One more week, that's all I need."

"You're two weeks too late," said the man in brown. Both men took a step forward. The man in brown swung his baseball bat and smashed the lamp on Bunny's bedside table.

Bunny scrambled but had nowhere to run in her small studio apartment. The man in black grabbed her, while the man in brown tied string around her wrists and ankles and put duct tape over her mouth. All Martin could hear was Bunny's muffled screams as the two men carried her away.

The number of viewers watching the stream skyrocketed, peaking at just over ten thousand--ten times more than on a good night, like Valentine's Day. Bunny's computer was still on, and the stream was still going. The chatroom was going crazy. The torrent of comments was too fast to read as they scrolled by. Martin was able to parse out one that said, "omg, someone call the cops!!"