Pt III
A slow gray haze formed in front of my eyes and made it difficult to see, but soon I realized that the gray haze was black and I couldn't see perfectly well at all. My left eye was throbbing incredulously with pain and my skull burned in a low but fierce ache. "Francis?" I whispered.
The room was empty, but it wasn't the same room that we were in before. It was smaller and much quieter, but that was only because this time I was by myself. There was a small tape player that greatly resembled something that an officer would carry around. I have seen this before. I shook my head in disbelief. "Not again... Please not again..." I started to reach forward, but caught myself before I could trigger a trap or even worse...a game.
The first thing that I needed to do was discover what was in my surroundings. There was a gigantic-looking yellow garage door that was barely visible in this blackness. The only light in the place was actually sifting underneath the tiny crack of the door. The wall seemed to be tiled, with various pipes After careful observation of the left side, I started evaluating my right. This proved more difficult with my right eye. For some reason it seemed like if I tried to move it, it would move around in some places and squish, not to mention the agonizing sting from even attempting the feat. He really did it... He cut my eye out. But not all the way it seemed. After more careful observation, I came to notice that my leg was tied to a metal pipe, but not so much tied as it was chained.
The tape recorder was empty, and as soon as I realized this I patted the pockets of my trousers. They were normal jeans, black with acid staining on the front. The pockets were empty. I slowly moved my leg around, hearing the rattling of the metal on the floor, which was the same tile as the wall I was leaning against. My other senses triggered a stench that fouled the air. I cringed a bit and wiped my nose.
I started feeling the wall for a switch of some sort, but instantly became paranoid. What if the light switch was rigged? What if I turn something on that will kill me, or someone else? Regardless of all of these theories, I found a switch and flipped it, shutting my eyes tightly to the blinding fluorescent blue light above.
The room looked like an old bathroom...most likely in some sort of basement. There were mirrors lining the wall and the sinks were broken, or most of them were. Once again I found myself lying against the wall across from a man, but I couldn't see him. He was fast asleep, or so I was hoping. He was also tied to a pipe, but I couldn't see his face. He was wearing much different attire than the stark black suit of Francis, at least of what I could perceive . He was wearing regular blue jeans but his legs disappeared into what looked like an old bathtub. His feet were relatively average sized for a man and his hand, which was also hanging out of the side, was too thick and strong to be a woman's.
Suddenly, the man burst out of what looked like water and gasped for air. His brunette hair stuck to his cheeks and his green eyes searched wildly around the room before settling on me. He gave me a look that screamed relentless questions and tried to approach me until the chain on his ankle tightened, finishing his trek. "Who...What..." he started to studder. He seemed scared, never mind. More like terrified enough to shit himself. His soaked white shirt also clung to him, making his olive skin look paler than it should. He looked down at the chain around his ankle and sat down, trying to pull it off. "Where the hell am I? What's going on?" He pleaded after trying to get loose.
I shrugged and sighed. "Your guess is as good as mine young fellow." This answer didn't satisfy him, as he yanked on the chain harder and grunted and growled, ending up in sobs and whimpers. "Keep that up and you'll slice your ankle open..." I mumbled tiredly. I was sick of this and sick of being so close to the lips of death. After a few minutes he noticed my eye and tilted his head in confusion. "What happened there?" He pointed and stared at the obvious injury. I shook my head and sighed again. "If you must know this is the second time I was abducted, and this is the result of my first experience." I was half tempted to try to touch the wound to see what was left, but ignored the thought. "It looks like your eye imploded." He cringed and looked around the room, probably making the same observations I had. "What's your name?" He asked me while looking over at the mirrors. My head trailed over to the toilet in the middle of the room. "Kirkland..." I said loud enough for him to hear. He smirked and scratched his head. "Mine's Vargas. Lovino Vargas." He suddenly had a very Italian accent. Rich, musky, and pretty enough to be some sort of model for Gucci or something. "Do you have a first name? Or was 'Kirkland' it? Not that I care..." He crossed his legs and looked into the bathtub he was lying in earlier.
"...Arthur Kirkland." His eyes met mine for a brief second in utter horror. And then it was gone.
He avoided my gaze as much as possible for a few minutes after that, which seemed suspicious. He suddenly noticed the tape recorder in between us. "Is that empty? The tape player thing?" His eyebrows furrowed into a scowl for some reason. I shrugged my shoulders. "Think so..."
A very tense silence filled the air as we both examined our surroundings more carefully. As I felt the pipe's thicknesses, and Lovino was checking his pockets as well, he pulled out a small tape that read "PLAY ME" In thick, Sharpie marker letters. He looked over at me. "Hey Arthur! Do you think you could throw that player to me? I think you're closer to it..." Immediately, I began to pull off my over shirt, which was a plain white button-up work shirt. I tossed the sleeve a few times toward the sniggering little contraption and finally managed to slide it close enough to grab. I thought for a few moments until- "Hey! Throw it over here!" I stared over at the Italian. "And risk breaking it? You throw the tape!" Lovino scowled again and finally threw the tape over, crossing his arms after a very sloppy throw in front of me.
I placed the tape into the player and made sure that Lovino was paying attention before nervously tapping the play key. A rusty voice appeared in a few seconds. "Hello Arthur Kirkland. I wanna play a game. Only this time, you might not be so lucky." My eyes opened into utter shock and my breath caught in my throat tightly. "fuck" I said in a gagged whimper.
"Over the years, the tragedy in your life has devastated you to the point where you act upon will and anger. This anger also makes you unable to forgive the people who may or may not be the people responsible for this tragedy. Across the room from you is a young Italian that goes by the name of Lovino, but in fact, he is actually part of the Italian mafia." My eyes grew wider. "If I am not mistaken mister Kirkland, I believe that the same mafia is what got your son in danger four years ago..." I shut my eyes tightly. "... And eventually killed." The words stung my ears and pierced my brain. My heart stopped and I dropped the cassette player into my lap, trying to hold in the oncoming sobs. "Now not only is Lovino part of the whole plan, but his brother has no clue as to what has been going on with his schemes of assassination." Lovino's eyes grew wide. "Fratello?" "Now mister Vargas' younger brother is in my possession and will be kept out of harm, unless you can make the final choice." Lovino's eyes teared up and his face turned anguished. "No!" "Mister Kirkland, in this room you will find several different options. One will involve sacrificing part of yourself, for the men you wished death upon years ago, and another, will kill you and both of these people who may, or may not, have been part of the murder of your son. You have until the clock strikes eight. Forgive and forget. Live or die...
make your choice."
