Playground
: Chapter 32

Fuchs retrieved the pipe from the inside of his jacket and took a few pinches of the tobacco sitting in the tin beside him. Once the wooden head was filled to capacity, he gently placed the tip between his lips and flicked his lighter.

“I must have a smoke after zhat,” Fuchs explained.

“It couldn’t have gone any more perfectly. We’ve never had a single child make it this far, let alone six,” Geraldine replied.

She gazed at the monitor feed of the parents trapped in the dimly lit room. They remained in a frenzy; tears and trauma aplenty. Rock stood in the same space, continuing to quietly watch over them.

“I feel we may see zhem play on all of our toys today. Zheir comradery is commendable,” Fuchs said, taking in another big pull of smoke from the glowing pipe.

She looked back at the monitor that contained the group of children. They had the audio turned down, but their mannerisms portrayed a bitter exchange.

“Overall, I suppose it is, but not entirely. Your splendid timing with the cows certainly created a few ripples in the water, and now it’s painfully obvious. They’re beginning to fracture. I can see it.”

Fuchs nodded and exhaled a dual mass of thick smoke from his nose and lips.

Geraldine looked at the dismay and anger on Tanya’s face as she yelled at Bobby. She didn’t know what she was saying, but she liked how she said it. Her assertiveness was on the increase. Geraldine was also impressed that she could act with such a powerful grace despite just having watched her brother be ground to bits.

She liked the fire she saw in the girl. It excited her in such a way that she squirmed in her seat as a taboo jubilation ravaged her body.

You’re even further along than I imagined, she thought.

While she was impressed with Tanya, she couldn’t help but wonder how her father was feeling about the recent turn of events. Her gaze drifted past the plume of smoke to the monitor near Fuchs.

“Interesting…” Geraldine mumbled.

“What is it, my lady?” Fuchs asked.

“Mr. Matthews in the front holding his dead wife’s hand. He doesn’t seem terribly affected.”

Fuchs leaned in toward the screen to get a better gander at Greg. The stone-faced sociopathic stare was powerful.

“It was his boy that just got minced to meatloaf, wasn’t it?” Geraldine asked.

“It was,” Fuchs concurred.

Geraldine leaned in and squinted, watching closely as Greg’s face contorted.

“What odd behavior. I would’ve imagined a parent to be so much more—more emotional after such a loss.”

“People handle zhings in different ways.”

“But he’s grinning.”

Fuchs inched in closer to examine Greg’s reaction for himself.

“Hmm, zhat is quite odd.”

Fuchs pondered his reaction, puffing on his pipe again and blowing a copious cloud of smoke from his nostrils.

“Maybe he’s a psychopath,” she suggested.

They both shared a hearty laugh, as Geraldine’s eyes drifted back to Tanya.

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