Don't Mess With Me
I hate him.
He has everything wrong. His brain can't think. He should have known who he was messing with.
It's simple: you mess with Kazuya, you mess with me. He didn't even have the intelligence to realize that.
Out of anyone, he picked my friend. The only one who had respected my personal space while we shared the same desk in science. The only one who hadn't thought of me as a second teacher, the only one who didn't act as if I was sick in the head. The others are fools. Everyone has dark thoughts, it's not because you are highly tempted to make them true that you have something wrong inside. They're wrong to not understand.
Kazuya is the only one whom I tolerate disrupting me. He's intelligent enough to disrupt solely for good reasons. Two weeks ago, it was one heck of a good reason. How could I not realize something was going on when I heard this faint and shivering voice? How could I not accept his request to go and pick him up when he told me he was stuck in that abandoned cabin in the woods?
I had some blankets at the back of the car that he wrapped around himself when I found him at the other side of that barricade blocking the door. He told me everything in the car. Takuro and the other assholes had decided to test how much he could manipulate someone like Kazuya. Beat him for a couple of minutes while avoiding his face and made menaces out of it to make him do what they wanted.
I hate him. You mess with Kazuya, you mess with me.
I prepared him something. This fucker won't even know what hit him.
His friends? Luck helped me get rid of them. Ryota... That dumb boy thought he could pass in front of a speeding train with his car. I heard it had been hard to find all of his body parts. Wonder if it hurt when he got hit. Hope he didn't die on the spot. Hope he had a taste of his own medicine… ten times worse. Takeshi was found dead on the ground with his shoes on the roof keeping a suicide letter from flying away. Life with Takuro must have been hard… Megumi? She's just missing. Gone, disappeared, whatever else. I could just picture her being taken to that old abandoned cabin. Just imagine the irony…
Takuro was mine. He had to pay, and I'd make sure he'd pay well. Even with his friends vanishing, his mood wasn't touched. He just decided to throw a big party on Halloween and yell about it everywhere. No parents, the whole house for themselves… Anybody could come really. One condition: bring some alcohol. That's how I got myself there. People don't know me that much, I had to be sure I'd be allowed in. I brought the biggest vodka bottle I could find, and I was in the house with my own light beer bottle as a gift. If only Takuro had known better. If only he knew what's waiting for him hidden in his wardrobe.
You don't mess with me… so don't mess with Kazuya.
The party is finally over. I can hear everyone leaving. I can feel the feet walking in the house. The number is slowly decreasing, until silence fills most of the house. Time to shine.
I get out of the room, gripping to the object in my hand. It could frighten him long enough. I walk into the kitchen, though I am alone. Well, not entirely. He's right there on the other side, in the living room. He's seated on the floor. I can see the way he moves he's completely drunk. Look at what he's holding: my vodka bottle. Quite ironic. At least, it makes my job easier. I stand behind him silently at first, then speaking quietly, but loud enough for him to hear me.
"Hope you had a great party, you fucker. Because I swear it was your last one."
He turns around with these big round eyes, staring at the knife in my hand. His movements are weak, he can't even pronounce a word. It makes my job a lot easier. I suddenly leap on him, squeeze my hands on his neck, watch him try to breathe. How does it feel? Like Kazuya? Like when you kept kicking him in the stomach to push the air out of his lungs? Feels great, right? Hard to fight when you're disadvantaged, huh? You feel good yet?
His eyes finally close and he becomes completely immobile. I reach out in my bag and get out the rope and duct tape. It was time to get to work.
You mess with Kazuya, you mess with me.
Fan at intensity 2? Check. Water? Check. Tools? Check. Videos? Check. Music at maximum volume? Check. Time to wake that sleeping beauty up. The water in the bucket is almost freezing. Maybe he'll have a glimpse of what Kazuya felt back in the cabin. The fan is at the perfect angle, he'll get everything on his sorry body. I throw the water. He wakes up with a gasp, his eyes wide. I just hope the blood getting to his head won't keep him from understanding what I tell him. It would be a shame to untie his ankles from the ceiling with all the effort I put into it. He's completely soaked, his costume makeup flows on his eyes. He looks ridiculous with all that squinting. I lower a bit the volume of the music. I made a special playlist just for him. How to put something else than creepy music for Halloween? I chose the circus playlist, because he's about to become a real attraction to me.
"What the fuck are you doing…?" is his first question.
"How about a movie?"
I select the file on my laptop. Extra_scenes, as I named the short movie. He's lucky; I put the image upside down just so he could see.
Play.
"Ryota's… Car?" he whispered out as he saw the vehicle on the screen.
I'm inside bushes behind the camera, watching the car. Ryota arrives. I see myself leap on him with a knife, barely not touching his arm. He freaks out, and gets in his car. As I'm about to hit the window, he starts leaving. I had expected it at the time. My own car was there, already running, just waiting for me to chase him. I see myself in the screen following him for a couple of minutes, then we slowly leave the city. The railroad is right there, a train is coming.
"Just on time… as always…" I hear myself say out loud behind the camera.
He speeds up. He wants to pass and force me to stop and wait until the train passed. If only that dumb boy knew how well I had calculated everything. Takuro's eyes widen when he sees the car's pieces fly, and the blood. Behind the camera, I get out of the car and walk to the closest body parts: An arm and about half of his head. The other half is crushed inside. Concentrating enough, I can hear a satisfied scoff in the video.
That same knife is now above Takeshi's head. He's writing a letter. He folds it and obeys to my every command, which leads him to the school's roof. I put my feet on the back of his shoes, then push him off. One last scream and his body is snapped. I leave the shoes there and put the letter under a shoe to keep it into place.
Megumi squints at the flashlight in her eyes. She has some duct tape on her mouth and around her wrist and ankles attached to the chair. She's almost naked, shivering… well, vibrating, I should say. Behind the camera, I kick the chair on the ground and she moans. Her wounds are now clear. I do recall kicking her and making her a few cuts… or gashes. She's just staring at the camera with wide eyes while I back away and close the door to the old cabin, making another barricade I light up with the flashlight's gleam. When I come back in the morning, her lips and fingers are blue. She still opens her eyes faintly, probably hoping for a savior. How dare she. I pick the hammer and finish the job hitting her head. Sadly, the screen gets too red; we don't get to see the next details.
I turn toward Takuro. He's shivering. Fear? Cold? Sickness? I don't know. Maybe the three… I hope so; I want to see him vomit his stomach out. Only then, he'd have a glimpse of how disgusted I feel toward him. He could even get to know how being pitiful feels like for once. I leave the movie on, letting it repeat itself and I get to Takuro's level, staring at his eyes. He's not only shivering; he's crying too, the tears falling down his forehead, disappearing in his hair.
"It's a bad prank, is it?" he asks almost in a whisper, "And you were the only one sick enough in the head to participate."
Bad answer. I punch him right on the nose. He winces and moans. Good for him. I'm only getting started. I want him to recognize me. Not only as the… special kid of the senior year, but as his latest victim's friend. He seems to be waiting for something from me. Maybe he thinks I'll pull a speech. That would be stupid. Takuro is too much of an idiot to even know the meaning of most of the words I'd tell him.
"Wait… you're with…" he obviously doesn't know the name.
"Kazuya. Moron."
He can't even remember a name, how did he manage to get to his senior year? There's the small shadow of a smile on his lips.
"You still think it was funny?" I say, "Fine."
I walk to a table to pick the first tool. Hammer and nails? Too detailed, he'll move too much. The drill? Perfect. I pull the trigger a few seconds to make sure it works. I turn back toward him and spam the trigger. He obviously gets worried as I raise the music's volume, enough to hurt our ears. I can't help, but smile. This will be fun.
"Let's get started, then… We'll see if it's still funny."
I pull a chair and pull the trigger as I push the tool in his thigh. I can hear him scream over the music. It sounds great, do it again. The other thigh. Sounds just the same, it gives me shivers as I continue where I consider it painful, but not mortal. His clothes are getting wet. Maybe I should make the fan work a bit harder. As I get down the chair to fix the problem, he complains.
"That coward can't even face what he asks for! Bring the bastard here!" his angry words barely reach my ear through the music. I lower the sound.
"What tells you he knows about this?" I answer, raising back the sound once the sentence is done.
Kazuya is driving his little sister and her friends through the different neighbourhoods. He's surely having a grand time. Looks like Takuro and Kazuya's roles are switched tonight. He should have informed himself first before yelling these insults. Let's make step 2 and 3 at the same time, never mind his 30 seconds rest. I pick a thin plus-shaped screwdriver and this very small knife he surely uses for his art class before getting back up on the chair. I first thought it was a knife for surgeries when I bought it for that class. I take the tip of the screwdriver and look for the holes I just made. Found one. I get the new tool in and make circular movements in. It's sad I can't hear his moans. I see his pain, though, so I guess it's alright. Once the hole is big enough, I put the knife in and cut out of the hole. I get down the chair and lower the music a small bit. I want to hear him. At each hole, I cut two long extra lines out of the holes which are just big enough so my finger can fit in. I drop the tools and get to step 4. I get a finger in the hole, and I pull. His skin is very fragile; it peels off so easily. He offers a really weak defense, barely moving his body. It takes a while before he realizes it makes things worse. His clothes are mostly red by the time I'm done with every hole.
I get off the chair and face him again. He just stares. I shine the flashlight on him. His eyes are red, tear traces are clearly seen on his forehead, his mouth is half-opened, the blood and water soaking his clothes make him shiver, his tied hands, which used to close into fists are completely limp, except the occasional spasm from a finger.
Step 5. I take garden cutters from the table. I'd like to remove something from his hateful face. I hold the tip of his nose and place the tool a bit farther. No… Please… he says. I think he can anticipate the pain. If only he knew it was going to feel much worse. I want to hear him clearly this time. I take some duct tape and put three layers on his mouth before lowering the music so it sounds more like an ambiance. I get back into my position and start cutting his nose repeatedly. He tries to yell under the tape. The muffled complaints are even better than his screams at step one. It's wonderful. His nose suddenly follows my hand instead of his face. I wonder if I should keep it as a souvenir. I show him the missing part of his face.
"Ha. Ha." I say with a smirk, "Funny, right? You get it now?"
He tries to nod. I guess he thinks I'll let him go if he agrees with me. It doesn't change anything. You mess with Kazuya, you mess with me.
"Good. Now at least you understand why you're not drinking my vodka bottle in your bed right now."
Next stage. I get the nails and hammer. His arms are my target now that he stopped moving them. I have ten nails. Five for each arm. He let out a short and muffled scream at every blow. There's a new tear at every nail. They're making straight lines on his arms. I grab his hands and throw a couple of blows until I feel the surface under the tool changed. He looks at me with glazed eyes, soon concentrating back on me.
"You want to get down now?" I ask.
He doesn't answer. I pick up the drill and pull the trigger repeatedly while repeating my question. He nods frantically. I smile. Exactly what I wanted to see. Final stage. I get the saw on the table and get up on the chair, and I begin to sway back and forth on his legs. It's the first time he moves with such violence. Obviously, it's the most painful one to him. Do it, Takuro, continue to move like this. When I'll get to half of your leg, you'll finish the job. You know what? It'll hurt even more, but you don't know that.
As I expected, his violent move helped finishing up cutting his bone and he soon fell on the floor, still screaming, staring at his legs, or the incredible amount of blood coming out, maybe both. I crouch and remove the tape on his mouth. He continues to scream for a few seconds, but it soon dies down. He's pale, almost white. I love this skin tone. I love it as much as I hate him.
"You have one or two minutes left," I say looking at the rest of his legs still tied to the ceiling.
"Just… Just kill me already…" he whispered out, in pain.
"I can't. I promised myself I'd make sure you suffer until the very end," I answer as I put one layer of duct tape on his mouth, just in case.
The very end means the last drop of blood. Maybe I should specify it to this idiot. No… he'll discover it in a minute or so anyway. I grab his neck and look at him straight in the eyes.
"You messed with Kazuya… So you mess with me. You should have thought about that."
I remain in the same position until his expression empties and his chest stops moving. I back away and kick his head. That's the only thing he deserves. I walk to the end of the room and click on the red button on my camera. This will surely be the most satisfying correction I ever made. Sure, cleaning up the whole thing will be extremely long, but it was worth everything. He won't touch Kazuya again, or any of the idiots surrounding him. I'll just clean up everything and get rid of his hateful body. He'll end up where he belongs: in the thrash.
I don't care about the risks. I like correcting people, I like it when they realize what they have done, and I like it to see them regret their whole life. Kazuya is such an easy target too, it almost seems like everyone wants a piece of him. There's one thing people seems to forget though. The exact thing that puts them in trouble.
You mess with Kazuya, you mess with me.
Sorry if it's bad, I had almost no time to do this.
I hope you're having a great Halloween! See you next time guys!