The Horrible Death of Tony Clare: Retribution and Revolt (1/2) By Sean Davey

(1/2), (2/2).

Tony Clare, British Premier, bringer of war, pestilence, famine and social impotence, died today. Killed by an unknown man. A man driven not by his hatred for the Prime Minister, but by his own need to right the wrongs that Tony Clare's society was responsible for. A society which neglected its own people, raped the land, taxed the workers and killed the innocent. For many years the unknown man bided his time, let his revulsion, loathing and anger grow inside his rotten soul.

The disgusting sights that surrounded him every day fuelled his anger further. For every stinking tramp, war report and asylum seeker he saw, he became more determined and his need for retribution was further invigorated. In the man's mind there was only one way to atone for the things he had seen. Punishment, retribution and death, all aimed at the man, the leader, Tony Clare.

It was a Saturday night around ten o'clock when Tony awake. His wife lay beside him, her lips were blue and her skin was alarmingly pale. He could see she was still breathing but he couldn't wake her. He looked up and saw a silhouette of a man pass his door. He went for the phone but it was dead. Why didn't the alarm go off? Had it been sabotaged that morning? By the helpful, police-appointed security expert who had been round to adjust the alarm system…after all, fake identification is so easily produced these days.

And what about his wife and three children, all laid in their beds, pale and limp. And Tony himself, light-headed, stumbling around his house, unable to balance, finding it difficult to focus on objects. In a state of blind fear, being stalked by a dark man, unable to alert his personal security guards, unable to wake his family, feeling nauseous and cold. Could it be carbon monoxide poisoning? The gas man who came round that afternoon had definitely looked familiar but is it possible for an unauthorised man to twice gain access to the Prime Minister's private residence? Well, apparently it's not that difficult.

And apparently easy to overpower a man in the late stages of carbon monoxide poisoning, and to slip out into the darkness, past the security detail. Of course made easier by the fact that the two MI5 agents assigned for duty that night were found later, garrotted in the boot of their car, oddly with their eyes gouged out. So what hope did the police have of finding the Premier, locked away in an obscure, forgotten bomb shelter. Well, obviously not much.

So then what? Now the unknown man had his man. Incarcerated in a giant underground complex designed to accommodate one thousand people in 1940. In an unknown location, dark and quiet. Completely at his captor's mercy. He'd waited for twenty years to exact his vengeance. It wasn't always Tony. First it was Baroness Margaret Thitcher, then it was James Major, but by the time Tony Clare took the reigns of the country the unknown man's pent up rage had boiled over and caused him to cross the line from disgruntled citizen to justice bound, murderous monster.

Continued... Next Page (2/2)

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