Free Panic Button by Frazer Lee

floor, crying out in agony.
     

    “No! No!” Alan cried, as the attacker stabbed the end of the bat hard into his face, shattering his nose.
     

    Blood gushed from the wound and Alan wiped at it pathetically as the intruder lifted the bat again. His cries were ignored again as his assailant rained heavy blows down on his legs, sharp cracks echoing across the empty corridor.
     

    Alan lay on the floor, writhing in agony, his face stunned and his body contorted. He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn’t work. His attacker stomped on his shoulder before shaking an object in his free hand. It rattled loudly. An aerosol can - spray paint. He then bent over Alan and sprayed something across Alan’s chest, before roughly dragging him to his feet and shoving him through an emergency exit door to the side of the elevator doors.
     

    The door smashed open, rebounding off the wall loudly as the attacker frogmarched Alan over to a metal railing atop a stairwell. His legs now broken and useless, Alan tried helplessly to beat at his attacker with his fists as the man behind the camera shoved him against the railing, hard. Alan’s throat emitted a terrified yelping sound as the attacker grabbed his broken legs painfully and flipped him clean over the railing. There was a hideous snapping sound and the attacker peered over the edge of the railing, still filming. The gentle whir of the zoom lens accompanied the cameraman’s sharp breaths as he zoomed in on the motionless form several floors below.
     

    Alan’s body was like a broken doll, legs splayed out either side of him, bent back on themselves in a grotesque mockery of the human form. His smashed and contorted limbs were slowly being engulfed in the growing stain of his blood. The camera whirred again as the killer zoomed in on Alan’s chest - the letters ‘ROFL’ spray-painted there.
     

    The video feed clicked off.
     

     
     

    Max sat in brooding silence. Dave wiped a film of sweat from his furrowed brow. Gwen made a little heaving sound from behind her hand - she looked like she might throw up.
     

    “How could they...?” Jo struggled to find the words. “You... sick bastards!”
     

    Grabbing the champagne bucket just in time Gwen wretched and vomited, on the rocks.
     

    “Now I assure you that what you just witnessed is very real. Breach the rules again and I will just kill someone else. It’s time to play the game.”
     

    Dave reached out, trying to comfort Gwen.
     

    “Don’t touch me!” She shrugged off his hand angrily, still clutching onto the ice bucket.
     

    “I was just trying...” Dave’s voice was like an open wound.
     

    “Well don’t. Keep your dirty hands to yourself.”
     

    Jo watched Dave as he retreated to the rear of the aircraft; disturbed by the violence she sensed bubbling just beneath his surface.
     

    Max stood up, pacing the aisle and looking up at the ceiling lights.
     

    “You just killed an innocent man in cold blood for no fucking reason,” he snarled, barely suppressing his anger.
     

    “I disagree,” Alligator replied, as calm and matter-of-fact as ever, “You implicated your friend when you broke the rules. And I will kill plenty more ‘innocent’ people if you don’t follow them - to the letter.”
     

    His green face grinned from the monitors. “Thank you for your kind co-operation.”
     

    Alligator’s words hung heavy in the air as the computer displays blinked off again.
     

    Jo took a napkin from the bar and handed it to Gwen who took it and wiped bile from her mouth. Turning to face Dave, Jo narrowed her eyes angrily.
     

    “So you think that was faked too?”
     

    Dave shook his head, eyes vacant. “I don’t know what to believe anymore...”
     

    Jo approached Max, who was glancing around the cabin with an expression of pure paranoia.
     

    “Why are they doing this... to us?” she asked. “What’s going on here?”
     

    Max shook his head, taking deep breaths and drowning his