Phil was in and out of consciousness. He heard crashes, voices; he could've even sworn he heard a harpoon whizz by, but that was probably just his imagination going off again. At

some point, however, he was able to open his eyes, and realized that Joey had, yet again, stumbled into another trap, dragging Phil along with him. Joey was looking around the

room, and Phil had a sudden urge to tell him that he was still holding his machete, but decided against it. Maybe this time he'll learn his lesson.

Joey lunged to the man he bumped into, slashing his chest with Phil's machete. The man, though, seemed not to feel anything, and stumbled forward. Joey slashed again, this time

aiming for the man's throat. This time, he dropped, blood gushing out of the slice in his neck.

Joey took a step back, kicking Phil's weapons. Yes, yes! Use them! Phil thought, suddenly excited at the prospect of seeing his big brother do something cool. Joey reached down,

and Phil heard a bullet whizz by and hit a pipe, knocking hot air out. Two people leaning in with baseball bats were immediately shot with the deadly heat, and howled in agony.

Joey, seeing all of this, grabbed the bag and moved farther away and, in doing so, father from Phil.

Phil groaned. Joey had no idea what he was doing. If only he didn't have these stupid casts on, he might've been able to do something. Once again, Joey had to ruin something

beautiful.

One of the shadows leaned in towards Phil and sneered at him. He had a gold tooth, and his breath smelled like onions. Phil sneered right back at him, and spat in his face. The

man's face took on an angry shade of red and he whipped out a pocket knife. Phil's smile never faltered. If the man had pulled out a gun, Phil would've probably soiled himself.

Pocket knives, however, were his specialty.

The man darted in to swipe at Phil, and the boy veered to the right, allowing the man to fall on his face. The knife clattered onto the floor, and Phil lunged towards it, fighting the

instant wave of pain that overcame him.

The man looked at the boy with a mix of fury and fear. He had heard what had happened in the cemetery, he knew what the child was capable of. He grabbed at the knife, but the

boy again predicted his moves and was able to keep a hold of the blade. Phil jumped onto the man, forcing him onto his back, and with a look of pure glee on his face, he plunged

the knife deep into the man's stomach.

Joey heard a cry of pain from the corner where Phil was and mentally slapped himself. Stupid! How could he forget the one person he had to protect? How could he be so selfish?!

Dodging a woman wielding a flamethrower, he ran back to his brother. What he saw changed his life forever.

His baby brother had ripped apart a man's stomach and was searching for something inside. He felt his own stomach begin to tighten. What was with Phil and organs?! Couldn't he

just kill someone and be done with it? It wasn't that tough of a decision!

Joey saw a shadow taking out a gun. Oh no you don't! Phillip was a crazy kid, but he was his responsibility!

"NO!" Phillip heard a cry from behind him. Curses, Joey! He was in the zone, why couldn't his brother understand that? He heard a gunshot, and turned to see Joey standing over

another shadow, holding a smoking gun. Bravo, Joseph! Came to your senses now, did you?

Phil heard the man moan, and remembering his mission, got back to work. He had almost found what he was looking for when…. Ah! There it was!

Joey turned to the other attackers, firing the gun at anything holding a weapon, when he heard his brother's scream following a gunshot. Oh, great! That's just great! One of his

wild shots had hit Phil in the shoulder! Sometimes he wondered whether Philly was right and he was a complete moron.

It appeared that Joey had shot Phil while he was in the middle of something. The child had a string of intestines curling around his hands, and he was apparently using the man's

own guts to strangle him to death. Joey felt as though he could hear every gasp and squish that came from the dying man, as his brother's tiny hands tighten and pull harder and

harder as the slimy organ threatened to elude his grasp.

He ran over to his brother, and shot one more round before the last five shadows came upon him; the lady with the flamethrower, a man with a crowbar, a couple of twin boys who

were swinging chains and a fat man with a cheese grater (He still didn't get why killers were so obsessed with cheese graters. What were they planning on doing with it?).

They were almost upon the brothers when the man Phil was strangling finally breathed his last.

"Woo-hoo!" Phil cried as he threw the intestines onto the floor, and the lady shot a blast of fire into the boys general direction.

The woman had forgotten about the air escaping from the pipe. The flame was only a mere two feet away from the two when it shot into the twins faces, they didn't even have

enough time to scream. Phillip jumped onto the woman, grabbing her flamethrower, and shot another blast into the air. The flames caught onto a couple of boxes of food

shipments, giving the room an odd barbeque-smelling boxed-shrimp.

Throwing that on the ground, he hobbled over to the man with the cheese grater, pushing him onto the man with the crowbar. Phil picked it up, and promptly beat both of the

men's heads in, taking turns between the two, till they were nothing more than bloody pulps of brain matter and bone. He smiled sinisterly at the twins, taking long strides toward

the moaning brothers with the fat man's cheese grater.

Joey looked away. He had seen enough death today; he didn't want to watch a couple of brothers getting their faces scraped off. He could hear it well enough, anyways.

"Who sent you, you worthless pieces of scum?"

Oh, already calling them scum? They were as good as dead, anyways.

"We're not talking! You- you can't make—"

Another blood-curdling scream.

"Please, man! This is sick, I'll tell you what you need to know, just leave Ray alone, he just got mixed up in this a few days ago!"

Another scream.

"Havisham! Havisham sent us! Oh, God, make it stop!"

Joey finally pealed his eyes away from the unconscious woman and looked at his brother. There was burnt flesh stuck to the cheese grater, and more strips lying on the floor. One of

the men had passed out, and the other one was sobbing onto the floor. Joey heard Phil sigh and, dropping the cheese grater and facing his brother, he spoke.

"Well, I think we know what to do now. Joey, take care of the woman. These piles of filth will be my priority."

Joey didn't even bother arguing. He let Phil deal with the twins; he didn't want to touch them, didn't want to go to bed hearing their cries and whimpers in the air. He knew he

would, though. He was an accomplice, he never was all that good with guilt. But the truth was, as he now realized, was that he was terrified of this boy, this demon. He'd have to

end this, someday. For now, his resistance would start with the woman.

"Why don't we take her with us?"

Phil turned to his brother. Was he saying what he thought he was? A witness was a witness, and she'd eventually get away. Or die. As he thought that, Estelle's face popped into

his head. He smiled to himself.

"All right. But make sure she's tied and gagged. When we get a ride, I don't want her kicking and screaming."

Joey sighed in relief, putting his hands under her arms. At least he saved someone, although how innocent they were, he wasn't sure.

Edging out of the room, he heard the sobbing man's pleas and screams as Phil hacked him to pieces. Joey shuddered.

One day, he knew, one of the Pire brothers would be screaming like that. It was just a matter of time and a matter of who.