A little revenge
best served digital
Another little prompt…
November 22, 2025, prompt
The quest continues, photo album, lottery winner
Brian Anderson flipped to the next page of the old photo album and stared at the image of a young man in an Izod polo and white chinos. His blonde hair shone in the California sun. The backdrop of a mansion overlooking the Pacific Ocean gleamed just as bright as the boy’s hair. Brian smirked, popped the lid off a red marker, and circled the image twice. He turned his attention back to his laptop and compared the image on the screen to the old photograph. Adrian Banks; fifty-seven years old, looked distinctly different than the carefree boy lounging in the sun. He had gone through quite a few rounds of plastic surgery to try to maintain his youthful appearance with some degree of success, but not enough to matter in the end. He was, after all, dead.
Brian checked his offshore account one last time. The funds he illegally allocated from the deceased Adrian Banks had cleared and now sat nice and safe in Zurich. Brian smirked, picked up the black marker, and drew a large X over the photo.
“Another one bites the dust.” He sang under his breath. He took a large gulp of his energy drink and flipped to the next page in the album. The face of a woman stared from the faded picture. She was pretty in an old-fashioned way. She didn’t look like the type to have murdered so coldly. Brian flattened his lips and bit his cheek. “Feel sorry for the child, not the adult they became.”
A few searches later and he found her social media, home address, telephone number, and every little bit of information he shouldn’t be able to access. Amanda Pierce, now Amanda Crawford aged gracefully. No plastic surgeries, lip fillers, or artificial means graced her face. She had crow’s feet and little laugh lines around her mouth. Brian brought up her financials and sighed heavily. He hoped there would be more, but he guessed every little bit counted when it came to revenge. A few clicks later and her bank account, savings and 401k were drained and headed to a secondary back in Brussels where it would then snake its way through a dozen other countries and accounts until it ended up in Zurich.
Amanda Crawford was officially out of cash. Brian stared at her photo just as he had the five that came before her and the ones that would come after. Amanda didn’t do as well as her old college friends. She married low and had children early; dropping out in her senior year of college to play house in a nondescript town in New Jersey. She didn’t keep up with her old friends, but that didn’t matter. You can’t undo the horrible crime in which she was a willing participant. According to his source, who witnessed what happened so long ago, she dealt her share of blows to his aunt Patricia. They may have gotten away with their crimes decades ago, but now it was time to pay up.
Brian checked his banking app and smiled. Another five hundred thousand cleared. He would have taken more steps to have her lose her home, but life would take care of that for him.
“Never do work that karma will do for you.” He smirked. Another black X covered her face, and he continued his quest.
Jackson Mills married into high society. He married a debutante in Boston. Her family had the kind of wealth that spanned generations. Brian sat in the beat-up folding chair and pondered. The wife had nothing to do with the crime. Would he be greedy to take her family’s money? How could he make Jackson pay for his part in the murder? He sat, thinking hard. Money wasn’t the end all be all in this scenario. They had buckets of money and taking Jackson’s wouldn’t put a dent in his ego.
He picked up the burner phone and punched the numbers by memory.
“Yeah.” A gravelly voice filled the other end of the line.
“I need someone to fix a plumbing issue.” Brian spoke in a monotone voice.
“How many pipes burst?”
Brian considered. “Just one.”
“Is the pipe hard to get to?”
Brian looked at the calendar of Jackson Mills. “No. It’s at Briar country club on the greens. Today at one in the afternoon.”
Standard price plus one hundred percent for the emergency fee.”
Brian changed confirmation on Mills phone to blocked then transferred the money straight from Mills account to the one the man on the phone specified. “Done.” He told him.
The man grunted. “I’ll send confirmation once the leak has been repaired. Send me the info”
Brian hung up. He then funneled the remainder of Mills’ bank accounts to his own. The ping on his second burner phone alerted him that the transaction was complete.
Brian turned the page in the album. He stared at the blank page for a full minute before smiling. It was finished. He had made a promise to his mother on her deathbed that he would avenge his aunt, and he did. It took longer than initially expected, three years of learning how to hack and make the right connections, but it was now finished. Brian turned off the laptop and sat it face down on the damp concrete of the old warehouse he had used for his revenge. He took up the sledgehammer and began smashing it until he could yank out the hard drive. He then proceeded to smash it into small, sharp pieces. He removed the batteries and SD cards from the phones, smashing the cards to dust. Scooping everything up, including the album, he threw it down the well at the back of the property and poured in sulfuric acid. He recapped the hole and walked away.
On his way home, Brian’s personal phone chimed once. He answered the call.
“Did we win the lottery, Brian?” His brother Peter asked. His code word for what Brian was doing.
“Did we play the lottery?” Brian laughed.
“Just answer the question.” Peter sounded impatient. He didn’t like the cloak and dagger of it all. He was antsy by nature.
“Did you get the pic?” Brian asked.
“Yup.” was all his brother said.
“How about Swiss for dinner?” He knew that would make his brother feel better.
“Already waiting.” His brother said in relief.
“I’ll be there in twenty.” Brian hung up the phone and tuned the radio into the local news.
“Jackson Mills, a prominent philanthropist in Boston was shot and killed while golfing at his country club...”