Chapter 7: Out of Control
NEIWIS - I wish I had thought to make crazy guy (Michael) have more pigs with fangs! Unfortunately, that's not what he had upstairs. I didn't know learning Greek was hard, but good luck to you in trying! (Learning French is hard for me, though.)
SunKrux - Ah! Spelling error! Well, it's corrected now. Thanks for your help!
Ninja Bagel - If the lightening storm helps you get more into the story, then I wish you many more stories (as long as they don't knock out the power). ;)
orangeninja - A French bad guy would totally mime! Now I want that to be in the show!
shell36799 - Here's your update! Hope you like it!
OTHangles - I don't want to kill you with my cliffhangers! Then I wouldn't have any reviewers! ;)
Akaylah - Sorry that you were disappointed but I want the story to not rush to all the good things at once. Good things comes to those who wait. And this chapter is the good thing! Well, depends on what point of view you're looking from...
moonlit notebook - *blushes* Crafted beautifully? I don't think I've ever had someone refer to my writing as a craft. Thank you!
lovely9000 - Poor Myka indeed. And poor Claudia in this chapter, too.
scrawn - Yes, it is a terrible place to end. It's because I'm horrible and like torturing you. ;) Here is your update and I hope you enjoy it...
When Myka came to, the room hadn't changed much. Michael was still calmly watching her, tapping his bat. The only difference was that Claudia was now lying on the floor next to him, bound again. Luckily, the blindfold and gag were still out. Myka tried to move over to her, but found she couldn't move. Looking down, she realized that she was tied to one of the black metal poles that was scattered through the basement. She tested her bonds and found them tight and well tied.
"So, what were we talking about again?" Michael asked, as though he was a teacher giving a pop quiz.
"Your...brother's...death?" Myka said, struggling to remember what had happened seconds before she had been clubbed into unconsciousness.
"Right. Marcus." Michael's voice softened slightly when he said his brother's name. "You know all about him, at least you think you do. After all, you were the one that put him away, weren't you?"
"Michael, he killed somebody." Myka said, trying to make her voice calm. "I had to."
"We were starving and needed the money! All we wanted was something to eat!" Michael yelled. "If your bitch sister -"
"DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT!" Myka screamed, all thoughts of trying to remain calm forgotten as she threw herself against her bonds with as much force as she could.
"I'll call her whatever the hell I want." Michael said, smiling happily at her. But his smile was sick and deranged, and Myka felt more afraid now than she had since the moment she had stepped into the basement.
"You know, we wouldn't have hurt your sister," Michael said. "Sure, we probably would have scared the living crap out of her, but we wouldn't have hurt her. The guns were just for show. After all, no one takes you seriously unless you have a gun.
"But Marcus was scared. He was only eighteen, and he was just trying to help me. He put the gun out to try and make your sister behave, but he got the jitters and the gun went off.
"You should have seen Marcus that night. He was sick with guilt. Couldn't get him to talk for days, could barely get him to eat anything. But you just weren't satisfied. You had to take him away from me.
"It's not my fault." Myka said, her voice full of conviction. The rehashing of the case had brought up memories - seeing her sister fall, over and over again in that video, seeing Marcus' pale face at the trial, trying to blame everyone but himself. She hadn't had any choice - even if it hadn't been her sister, she would have had to bring people like that in to justice. She did so everyday. "You brought this on yourselves."
"Really? Nobody else noticed the tattoo of Marcus'. That tattoo made him get arrested for first-degree murder! They sent him to a big maximum security prison. Made him out to be this cold blooded murderer instead of what he really was - a scared kid.
"And you took him away from me." Michael snarled, stalking forward and thrusting the baseball bat under Myka's chin. Claudia screamed her name but Michael wasn't paying attention to her anymore. "He was only eighteen years old! They sent him away to a place where the psychopaths were locked up! He was scared and he didn't even have his brother there!
"I was only arrested for a few cases of robbery. They put me away for a few years on those cases.
"And that entire time, while I was locked up with sick bastards, the only thing keeping me going was the thought that I'd see my brother again.
"Then, a week after I got out of prison, right after I'd finally gained enough money to go and visit my brother in prison, I got a phone call.
"There'd been a prison riot. Five inmates were murdered. My brother was one of them. Beaten to death. They didn't know who did it and they didn't care. But I do." Michael removed the baseball bat from under Myka's chin and walked away from her, but their eyes were still joined together.
"Your sister got a pain free death. My brother was gracious enough to allow her one. But he didn't get an even trade in return, did he? His death was drawn out. He suffered. So," Michael said, positioning himself right behind Claudia, who was lying on the floor, her breaths coming in quick spurts, her eyes focused on Myka, "I'd thought you should know what it feels like to see someone you love get beaten to death." He raised the baseball bat.
"NO!" Myka screamed, jerking on the bonds. "Please, punish me! If you think it's my fault then punish me!"
Michael lowered the bat slightly, and smiled at her once again. "I am." And then he brought the bat down on Claudia. Myka and Claudia's screams mixed together, both full of pain.
"Claudia, if you want to chime in here, you know, blame someone for the reason you're here, or beg for help, it'd be a nice touch." Michael grinned down at the girl, who bit down on her lip and kept quiet. Throughout the next couple of minutes, nothing emerged from Claudia's mouth. Myka watched in desperation, never stopping pulling at her bonds. The silence was almost worse than the screaming.
"Stop it!" Myka screamed as Michael continued to bring the bat down on Claudia again and again. "I'll do anything! Please!" Michael looked up at her, grinning. He used his bloody hands to push his sweaty blond hair out of his face. The blood mixed in with the golden hair, looking like strange, dripping highlights.
"Do you know how long I've waited to hear you scream and plead like that?" Michael asked.
"Stop. Please." Myka sobbed, staring at the barely moving Claudia. Her eyes were half-open, and they looked dazed, as though they didn't register the world around her anymore.
"All right." Michael smiled. "I'll give you a choice. You give me," he said, raising the bat again and making both Myka and Claudia flinch, "five more whacks with at the bat and I'll leave you two alone for a while. Hell, I'll even untie you. But - I'll come down again to have some more fun later.
"Or..." He said, pulling Myka's gun out, "I could shoot her, straight through the chest - just like my brother shot Tracy." He gazed at Myka, his eyes clear of any trace of guilt - he would really do it, "Your choice."
She was supposed to chose what way to kill Claudia? She wasn't sure that Claudia could hold on for five more hits from the bat - not if Michael hit in the right places. And what would his idea of "fun" be a few hours later? But if she allowed Michael to kill Claudia - Yes, it would put her out of her misery, but with the beatings there was the chance that Myka could help her, could help her stay alive until help somehow found its way to them. As she thought it over, she felt herself getting flushed again and the world was tipping on its side. She felt the contents of her stomach finally begin to come up from the ordeal. She bent over as far as the ropes allowed, gagging.
"Don't want to make a decision, huh?" Michael said, and she heard the gun cocking and the bat beating against concrete. "Guess I'll make it for you."
"N-" Myka said, trying to talk through her dry heaves. Michael laughed at the state of despair and helplessness she was in. Tears slid down her face at the hopelessness of the situation.
BANG.
Michael and Myka's heads whipped up at the sound. Michael stalked forward and grabbed Myka's head, pushing it back, ignoring her gasps for air and her continuing dry heaves.
"I thought I told you not to tell anyone where you were going!" Michael roared.
"I didn't." Myka gasped, the only words she could get out.
"Of course you didn't." Michael said, his upper lip curling. He stalked back over to Claudia and picked up the baseball bat. "I thought you cared about her enough, but I guess I was wrong, if you let others know where you were going -"
"I swear I didn't lead anybody here!" Myka screamed as Michael raised the bat again. She looked to Claudia, but found no movement coming from the girl. She wasn't even sure if her chest was rising or falling. "I swear!"
And suddenly the door to the basement was blown off its' hinges, tiny pieces of wood falling all around them like rain. Smoke poured out of the doorway and down the stairs, and a single figure walked forward, through the smoke and up to the scene that was in the basement.
"What the bloody hell did I miss?" H.G. asked, gazing around the room.
