Multi-Dimensional Merchant System

With just a couple hours before he had to call it a night, Oliver wanted to get some prep-work done for his first target. He had a plan in mind, rough though it was. First was locating them, as the system was fairly vague in that regard. Then investigating to confirm what the post said. Assuming everything the system told him was true... Well, he wasn't quite sure what he would do about it, just that he would have to do something.

Oliver already knew which one he would be looking for; there was no way he could ignore a child predator. The fact that this Jameson Ball was listed as being close solidified the choice in his mind. And he knew exactly where to start...

So many people loved to post their entire lives on social media, after all.

With the website open in front of him, Oliver clicked to limit the search to his city and typed in the name- and laughed when the second entry turned out to be his target. It looked like the system just pulled the man's profile picture when it made the post. Not one to turn down an easy win, he opened the profile and started reading.

“Well, he wasn't dumb enough to put his home address on his page... But he did mention he's a photographer, and even what company he works for? Seriously? That's why I keep my profile on private...”

Oliver muttered to himself as he made notes about the man. Place of work, the restaurant he tagged himself at twice a week, family and friends, any comments he made that seemed important... He had to stop for a moment, a flash of rage running through him as one post forged a connection in his mind- Jameson Ball was the one that did school pictures for the district. Middle School, specifically.

He couldn't help but curse. How had this man committed such terrible acts without anyone noticing? Were the parents and teachers just blind to what happened to their children? Or was he smart enough to avoid suspicion? And, if he was covering his tracks that well, what could Oliver do about it? Trying to find evidence or entrap would be enough of challenge even if Oliver was willing to risk exposing himself, but he knew he couldn't afford the sort of questions that would bring.

Pushing away his anger and frustration, Oliver shut down his laptop and tossed the page of notes into the newly unlocked warehouse- no sense in leaving evidence laying around in the event he did something drastic.

A good nights sleep did wonders for Oliver, leaving him calm and refreshed even as class seemed to drag on forever. As eager as he was to push forward with the system and all it could do, he wouldn't just abandon the life he was working towards; for all he knew, the system could disappear as quickly as it arrived. Better safe than sorry was his way of thinking.

Done with classes for the day, he hurried home to put his plan into motion. Grabbing his truck, he first grabbed some cash from an ATM and hit up stores to knock out a some quick commissions, adding another couple thousand credits to his balance. Taking a little inspiration from spy movies, he picked up a few things he thought would be useful, mainly a pair of pre-paid cell phones in case he needed to make calls that he wouldn't want traced back to him easily. After activating the phones and making sure they were charged up, he stored them and his old phone in his warehouse, figuring it would be a good habit to start since he doubted there was anyone in the world that could track a cell signal in another dimension.

With his preparations out of the way, Oliver drove downtown. Passing the studio that Jameson mentioned working at, he inspected the place carefully. It was a small place, set just a couple blocks off the main road. Even though it was an older brick building, it was well obviously maintained and clean. Glass front doors with the studio name on them, well manicured shrubbery out front, and a little parking lot off to the side with freshly painted lines and just a handful of cars gave the impression of a welcoming and successful small business.

Parking in a spot down the street a short distance where he could watch both the front door and their little parking lot, Oliver pulled out one of the burner phones he got. Checking his notes, he punched in the number to the studio. The phone rang only once before someone picked up.

“East Photography, how can I help you today?” A very friendly woman's voice answered the phone.

Oliver smiled as he spoke, trying to keep his tone warm and friendly. “Hi there. One of my friends had some pictures done, I believe she said the photographer was a James Ball? That's not quite right. Umm...”

“Oh, you mean Jameson? He's an excellent photographer and has been with us for several years.”

“Ah, that's the name. I apologize, I was in a bit of a rush and must have misheard her. Does Mr. Ball do events? And if I could ask about the rates...” Confirming that the man did indeed work there, Oliver chatted with the receptionist for a bit before hanging up. Settling in to wait for him to leave work, Oliver went over his plans in his head again.

Oliver perked up as a handful of people left the studio, locking the doors behind themselves. Scanning the group, he spotted Jameson as the man turned to wave goodbye and climbed into his car. It was a newer model SUV in silver, and obviously kept clean and maintained. As the SUV pulled out of the parking lot, Oliver started his truck and followed. The evening traffic downtown was busy enough that he wasn't worried about standing out, but kept a distance just to be sure.

It was only a few minutes later when he saw the SUV turn into a more residential area. Taking the same turn, Oliver hesitated when he didn't see it ahead of him still. Pulling up to a stop sign, he checked both ways before moving on, hoping to catch sight of him again. A flash of silver to his left caught his attention as the SUV pulled in to a driveway. He watched as Jameson climbed out the car and unlocked the front door of the home. Noting down the address, Oliver drove off heading home. As much as he wanted to be done with this, he knew it wasn't a one day ordeal- Better to take his time and avoid any mistakes.

The next day Oliver borrowed one of his roommates' cars to continue his surveillance efforts. It being early afternoon, he figure Jameson would still be at work while he scoped out the house. Driving by slowly, he looked the place over. A plain looking split-level house complete with basement and fenced in backyard, it was clean but modest. Neither the largest or the smallest house on the street, it was just another in a long line of similar homes. Oliver noted the absence of the usual signs and stickers people with home security systems put up everywhere to warn off criminals, but knew that didn't guarantee one wasn't present.

Oliver also made sure to take note of the neighboring houses as he knew that could impact his plans. One was clearly a retired couple, the two of them puttering around doing yard work as he passed- though he was glad they paid no attention to another car driving through the neighborhood. The house on the other side looked empty at the moment, but obviously lived in, making him think they were at work for the day as well. Spying a child's bike around the side of the house, he guessed it was the home of a young working couple with an elementary school age kid.

That meant both neighbors likely had early bed times. Maybe he wouldn't have to worry about any late night witnesses.

For two more days Oliver continued to watch, borrowing his other roommates cars to avoid the suspicion having the same car lurk around constantly could cause- and varying the time and locations to not create any sort of pattern. Finally he decided it was the night to take his plans to the next level, though he was still cautious of the risks this whole thing presented. Waiting until his roommates all crashed for the night, he checked the time as he gathered his things. One in the morning was still earlier than he wanted to go, but he needed the extra time if he wanted to be gone before people started waking up in the morning. Though he wasn't looking forward to a long day of classes with no sleep.

Getting into his truck he drove downtown, parking several blocks away from Jameson's house on a side road where he was confident there weren't any cameras. He knew a lone figure walking through a residential neighborhood in the middle of the night would be suspicious if he was seen, but didn't want to risk his truck being spotted and identified. It wasn't a terribly uncommon make and model, but it being older certainly limited the pool.

Following his planned route, he took his time while cutting through back yards and avoided streetlights. He kept his distance from the houses he knew had dogs, and even those he simply suspected of having them.

It took Oliver almost an hour to cover a distance of less than a half mile, his nerves climbing steadily with every step, random stray sounds and the occasional dog barking in the distance had him freezing in place. Arriving in Jameson's back yard almost made him sigh in relief, but he knew the next part would be even harder.

Knowing the bedrooms of a split-level like this were usually on the end above the basement, Oliver started at the opposite end. One by one he checked the windows, and even the backdoor, to see if one was unlocked. He would break one if necessary, but was hoping to get lucky and avoid the extra risk that involved. Oliver was thinking he may just have to resort to that when he got lucky with one of the basement windows.

They were small hopper windows, a couple feet wide and maybe a foot and a half tall- just barely big enough for him the squeeze through. Making sure his gloves and cheap balaclava were firmly in place, he silently thanked the loose latch as he pushed open the window and shimmied his way in- and promptly froze at the sight of a soft light coming from around a shelf full of old photography equipment.

When nothing happened after several long moments, he quietly inched his way along to the end of the shelves. Peeking around slowly, he saw the light was coming from a computer set on an old desk in the corner. Apparently the owner either forgot to shut it down or simply never bothered to. Checking around to make sure the man wasn't down there and that the basement door was closed, he approached the computer. He figured it would be pretty sloppy if there was anything incriminating just sitting around on an unsecured computer, but, then again, people didn't typically hide things in their own homes. Especially if they lived alone.

Gently jiggling the mouse, he was amused when the monitor lit up showing the desktop, no password required. Seeing nothing more than some editing programs on the desktop, he started clicking through menus and checking folders. Just as he was starting to worry about taking too long, he found something.

And had to restrain himself from marching straight to the bedroom to beat Jameson Ball to death.

It was a large folder, filled with pictures and videos- all of them of girls that may have been 10 or 11 years old at best. Just a glimpse of the horrors committed by this man- No, this Monster, Oliver corrected himself- was enough to make him sick with disgust and rage. So caught up in his anger, it took him a minute to focus on the file names.

Each file name was a girl's name.

Pulling up the web browser, he searched name after name. Articles, some going back more than a decade, flooded his vision. Missing girls, bodies found, unsolved crimes... Most were from neighboring counties, with a few from further away... And a few from right here in town. One stood out in particular, as it mentioned the parent's address- right next door. The neighbors didn't have a kid in school, they had lost her a year ago. The sick bastard had watched and then preyed on an innocent girl, then likely offered her parents his sympathies when she was found dead.

If Oliver had any reservations about doing these bounties before, they were all gone now.

Oliver crept up stairs and eased open the basement door. Seeing the living room dark and empty, he quickly checked the kitchen and dining room before heading up the short set of stairs towards the bedrooms. He checked each of them just to be safe, the first turned out to be a small office while the second was clearly used as storage.

Making his way past the open bathroom door, he stopped in front of the master bedroom door and took a deep breath before easing it open to be greeted by the sound of his target snoring in the bed. Oliver didn't think of himself as a saint or anything, he was planning to kill this man after all. But he couldn't help but wonder how a man that had done such terrible things could still sleep soundly. He didn't deserve to rest peacefully when the families of his victims couldn't.

Oliver wasn't sure what he deserved, other than to be punished. Harshly.

Killing him seemed to quick and simple. Torture? Oliver didn't have the time or a place for that, and found the entire idea repulsive regardless of how much he may deserve it- not to mention that he couldn't do it here when it was likely some coworker would try to check up on him when he didn't show up for work later. And it's not like Oliver could take him somewhere else anyway, as trying to carry a sleeping man out would definitely be suspicious.

Unless...

Creeping over to the bed, Oliver tried something he was uncertain would work. He hadn't tried to put anything living into his warehouse yet, after all. Placing his hand gently on the sleeping man, he opened his warehouse and smiled at the new entry as Jameson disappeared from the bed.

Warehouse Inventory:

Jameson Ball – Human Male(Living)

A few minutes search found Jameson's wallet, keys, and cellphone. Grabbing them and a half empty liquor bottle he spotted when checking the kitchen, a plan took shape in his mind. Dropping the wallet on the desk in the basement, Oliver made sure the incriminating folder was pulled up and hit play on one of the videos. Quickly moving back upstairs, he used Jameson's phone to call the local police. Covering his mouth to muffle his voice, he spoke over the officer that answered.

“I...I've done things. Terrible things... Huh? My name? Jameson Ball. 527 Willow Road. I... No... I can't... I can't go to jail...”

Dropping the phone with a clatter, he marched out the front door and climbed into Jameson's SUV, driving away. Passing through the now familiar neighborhoods, he stuck to side roads to avoid any other car, and kept a close watch for any police cruisers. The last thing he wanted was to fumble so close to the goal.

Pulling into the elementary school parking lot, he shut the car off and hopped out. Reclining the driver seat, he tried to carefully will Jameson out of the warehouse and onto the seat. As the man appeared laying in the seat, he shifted suddenly with a snort, causing Oliver to freeze in place. A long moment passed before the snoring resumed and Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. Eager to be done, he set the pilfered bottle of liquor in the center console and pushed the keys a little under the driver seat where it looked like they could have just been kicked.

As soon as he was well away from the SUV, Oliver peeled off the gloves and balaclava and stuffed them into the warehouse. Fortunately for him, his truck was actually parked between the house and the school, so his walk wouldn't be any longer.

After another hour of walking, he still didn't relax after reaching his truck. Though still a bit early, there was some traffic moving about finally as people headed off to work. Swinging by the neighborhood, he could easily see the lights of multiple cop cars in front of Jameson's house. With one part down, he immediately turned away and drove towards the school.

Seeing the SUV still in the same place, he pulled out one of the burner phones and made another call to the police, this time anonymously reporting a drunk man passed out in a silver SUV. In just his underwear.

In the elementary school parking lot.

Pulling into a fast-food drive-thru, Oliver took his time ordering a breakfast sandwich and coffee. As he was leaving, he saw a police car pull up near the SUV. He knew his plan wasn't perfect, but he hoped it had been enough. And, if it wasn't, he would just have to try something different.

Probably something worse, though he was ok with that.