The Final Episode

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And that's a wrap. 750 words to end the show.
750 words
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"I'm Chris Hansen, and welcome to tonight's episode of To Catch a Predator. Meet Grigori, an Eastern European businessman with a vague background and a penchant for having under-age teens invite them to their homes. An equal opportunity offender, Grigori doesn't discriminate based on gender. He is coming here to meet Carrie, but he's also showing interest in another sting we are running where one of our investigators is pretending to be Andy, a thirteen-year-old boy."

The cameraman got a shot of the activist we work with, and then came back to me.

"Carrie isn't her real name, and she works for us. When Grigori arrives, she will invite him in and direct him to the kitchen, telling him she has to put some clothes in the laundry. When he walks in, I'll be waiting to confront him."

I grabbed a bottled water and sat down. "We get that, Jim?"

Our producer used the mic and spoke from the room upstairs. "You're a pro, Chris. Got it in one."

"How many cops do we have outside?"

"We're good. Same as always. At least six active, eight more standing around because they are bored."

Law enforcement is great, and we couldn't do the show without them, but what the viewers never see is my personal security. If they are needed, they are seconds away.

"And no history of violence with this guy?"

"Absolutely not. We're professionals. Besides, the network isn't going to risk its star. We are all good."

"Agreed. Our crew is the best in the business. I wasn't trying to insult anyone. Just get nervous before things go down, you know that."

No matter how many times I encountered a pedophile, I still had that nerve rattling half hour before everything went down. I'd be thirsty as hell, but would only drink half a bottle of water. Any more than that and my back teeth will be floating while I'm trying to talk to the scum that comes through the door.

So, I resort to gum or mints. Both are universal for settling nerves. I've even had some of the predators ask for some. It was always fine with me. Whatever got them talking.

I killed time until his arrival by going over my notes. He was a few minutes late. When the car pulled into the driveway, everyone found their places. Carrie was in sight of the door, holding a laundry basket. There was a loud knocking. A chill ran down my spine.

Carrie called out. "Come on in. I just need to throw some laundry in the machine. Why don't you wait in the kitchen. I'll be right back."

His accent was distinctive, and his voice deep. "I apologize, Carrie. Blame my upbringing, but I must ask. You are inviting me in, and you are authorized by the owners to do so?"

Well, that was new. Carrie hesitated and then replied.

"Um, yup. Officially inviting you in. Why don't you grab us two Cokes from the fridge?"

Letting out a sigh, he opened the door and walked in. When he made it to the kitchen, he saw me and grinned. There was no mirth in that smile. No joy at all. He looked exactly like what he was, a predator.

"Why don't you have a seat, Grigori? I'm Chris Hansen and this is To Catch a Predator."

"I know who you are, Christopher. Our paths were eventually going to cross. The hunters I usually encounter use different tactics and have different goals. Unlike them, I actually like you."

Okay, this was getting very odd.

"Well, I'm glad to hear you like me. Let's have a conversation. Carrie isn't actually a twelve-year-old girl, she's an activist who works with us. You came here with the intent of having sex with a twelve-year-old. How often have you done this in the past?"

He tilted his head. "You are mistaken. There were hints of shared intimacy and gifts to be given, but sex was never mentioned and was certainly never my goal."

I took a second to review my notes. He was right. Plenty of intimations, zero blatant statements.

"So, you show up here at seven-thirty at night while the child's parents are away and you claim it's not for sex. Why did you have this discussion with Carrie?"

His smile grew wider, and I could see the fangs.

"I am Nosferatu, Christopher. I needed the invitation to enter. With you, your associates, and the police, I shall feast days."

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15 Comments
AnonymousAnonymous4 months ago

Awesome!!!

AnonymousAnonymous12 months ago

Trash

ThatNewGuyThatNewGuyabout 1 year ago

What a delightful twist! I like how you planted the seed in the second sentence with "an Eastern European businessman with a vague background..." Did not see that one coming.

EastCoaster1EastCoaster1about 1 year ago

Nice twist on what looked like a very formulaic setup !

"5" for the creativity !

AnonymousAnonymousabout 1 year ago

Talk about pulling a rabbit out of your ass.

If Chris had been Italian, old Nossy would have been ass fucked.

Nossy types don't like garlic.

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