Endgame

Daytona had done it. Finally. It was done.

He stared at the corpse of Seventhprofessor.

"That bastard can't keep me down any more."

In his last moments, Seventh couldn't believe it. He was facedown in a pool of his own blood. This moment was supposed to be a time of celebration. His great plan to get rid of his only challenger, Daytona, should have worked. Instead, a very key aspect of the plan failed, and now, Seventh is struggling to even take a breath.

"Why... How could...? I've..?"

Those were the final words of President Seventh Professor.

"Yes Seventh. You made one crucial miscalculation. You thought that I had a semblance of morality left in me. But I gave that delusio up long ago. Power trumps all. You thought that you were the most motivated, the most determined. You may have been the smartest. You'd have had to been. But there are some things that can't be changed by intelligence. It comes down to sheer will. And that, Seventh, is how I've beaten you."

Daytona changed a few key items around in the room, and then made a worried call to the Secret Service.

"Yes, the president's dead! I just found his body! Oh God, it's terrible! There's a knife here, too! Please, come help!"

When he hung up, Daytona could only give a grin. This... This is what he has worked his life for. He is now the most powerful man in the world.

With that devilish look on his face, Daytona demonically said

"Now then..."
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-/Fin/-

Nobody's going to ask you to his running mate again, ever.

Well written. Nice, if unsettling.

*Idea*

At 11/12/2014 4:17:10 AM, ESocialBookworm wrote:
*Idea*

*Gasm*