The young man lay cowering on the ground, trembling with fear and listening to the labored breathing of his companions. Blood and sweat dripped into his eyes, stringing them and forcing him to shut them tightly. He didn't dare raise a hand to wipe them. They had been taken by surprise. It had been impossible to see coming. He still didn't understand it, but it did no him no good by focusing on what had already happened.

He lay facedown on the floor with his hands laced over his head as he had been instructed to do by the gun wielding assailants that had ambushed him and his companions minutes earlier. They hadn't been prepared and had been so easily overtaken. He locked eyes with his younger brother Vince, who was lying near him. He gave him a weak smile, promising him with his eyes that everything would be alright.

Of course, he himself wasn't stupid enough to believe that.

"Hey, guys, look you don't want to do this." he heard one of his companions call out. It was Frank. Good old Frank, always trying to help. He held his breath and waited for their captors reaction.

It came in the form of the deafening retort of a shotgun.

The young man stifled a cry of horror and heard others around him do the same. Frank's son, Johnny, let out a strangled wail of agony. The boy was lying right next to his father. He felt sick all of a sudden, his heart was beating too quickly to stay in his chest, it would certainly explode. The breathing around him became shaky and ragged. He chanced a glance at Vince. Vince's eyes were closed and he was whispering something noiselessly to himself. Probably a prayer.

And probably too late.

"Anyone else have something to say?" came the cold reply of one of their captors.

No one else did.

They waited in torturous silence for half an hour or more, their captors pacing between their prone bodies. He couldn't see Frank, but the pool of blood that was slowly seeping towards him couldn't be missed. Though terrified, his mind began to work quickly. There were three, maybe four men with guns holding them hostage. With Frank gone, there were three of his friends plus him left to defend themselves. It could be done, but they would have to act together. He waited until the large shoes of one of the men passed his face before opening his eyes and trying to catch his brother's attention.

Vince's eyes were still closed and he was still muttering fiercely to himself. He waited a few more minutes and then turned in frustration to his other side.

His best friend Theo locked eyes with him. Theo nodded his head in understanding and knowing he had his best friend's cooperation, he turned back to Vince. After a few tense seconds, Vince opened his eyes and noticed his brother staring at him. There was no way he could get Johnny's attention. Frank's dead body lay between Vince and the dead man's son. The boy's muffled sobs indicated he wouldn't be remotely useful anyway.

"On my count." he mouthed to his brother. Vince's eyes widened and he nodded his head slightly. Theo would be ready the moment he saw him move, of that he was sure. He could always count on Theo.

"One." he mouthed silently. He saw Vince's body tense as he got ready to react.

"Two." His heart was beating even faster. There was a possibility that they would all be killed, but anything was better than lying here and being executed like cattle.

Before he could open his mouth for the next word, the door opened. He sighed loudly in frustration and anxiousness. The sharp clacking footsteps of expensive shoes entered the room and stopped behind him, just out of his line of vision. He looked towards Theo again. Theo's face was chalk white and his lips were set in a grim line. His best friend obviously knew the man who had just walked in. He fought the urge to sit up and get a look at him. Doing so would be resigning himself to Frank's fate.

"Why'd you kill the old man?" the newcomer's voice asked in a bored tone.

"He wouldn't shut up." came the simple reply.

"Oh well."

"What do you want us to do with the rest of them?"

There was a moment of silence as the newcomer, who seemed to be charge, contemplated his answer.

"Kill them. Kill them all."

The words fell flat in the empty room. The young man's breath caught in his throat as he heard the clicking sound of a gun being cocked. Time was up, they'd have to act now, he realized with horror. He looked up frantically at his brother.

Before he could open his mouth to yell a signal to act, the back of Vince's head simply exploded in a fine red mist as a shotgun shell tore through the back of his skull. He was given no time to react before another shot rang out and the world went black.

The young man opened his eyes. This in itself shocked him. He was supposed to be dead. It was completely dark inside the room he was in. He listened for a clue of someone else inside the house and heard nothing. He was alone. His heart sank as he remembered his brother. Vince was dead, he saw him die. Was everyone else dead? He lifted his head and tried to look around but intense pain radiating from his head and left shoulder stopped him. Groaning in pain, he lay back down and waited for the wave of nausea brought on by his injuries and sudden movement to subside. Once able to move again, he slowly and painfully rose to his feet. Another nauseating wave of dizziness overcame him and he sank to his knees. Burying his throbbing head in his hands, he felt a sticky wetness all over the side of his face. He felt around his scalp and discovered a long trench-like wound on the side of his head. The bullet must have grazed his head and then passed right into his shoulder. He gingerly touched the bullet hole in his shoulder and hissed in pain. They had thought he was dead and had left him. For some reason, he didn't feel lucky. His shirt was soaked in blood. If he didn't get to a hospital soon, he would surely bleed to death. There were people lying on the floor around him, but he couldn't make out their condition in the darkness. The light was all the way by the door.

Carefully, he limped to the door. He stumbled into the wall and again sank to his knees, overcome by yet another wave of dizziness. He gave himself a few moments to rest and then forced himself to his feet again. Using the wall for balance, he blindly groped his way along looking for the light with his right hand. He brushed against it within a few moments. He flicked it on and immediately shut his eyes tightly, the sudden brightness making pain burst behind his eyes and his head spin violently. The dizziness overcoming him, he turned and vomited on the floor, somehow managing to stay on his feet. He let out a shaky breath and looked at his feet, giving his eyes a chance to adjust to the light.

He wasn't sure that he wanted to see what there was in store for him when he turned his head. He stalled for several minutes, breathing hard and steadying himself. Finally, he turned and took in the horrific view before him.

They were all dead. Vince lay where he had fallen when he had been shot. Frank and Johnny both lay in the same position he had last seen them alive in. There was blood everywhere. He searched for Theo. When he didn't see him, a ray of hope beamed across his face. Had Theo escaped? He glanced around the room to make sure of his best friend's absence.

His hope was soon shattered.

Theo lay on the floor a few feet behind him. He had somehow managed not to step on him on his way to the door.

Overcome with despair, he let himself sink to his knees again and screamed in agony. Whoever had done this wouldn't get away with it. He would see to that. For now, he would be strong. He would get to a hospital and he would survive.

And then, he would make them all pay.