The fight for survival beginnings.

- Ok so I am home ill with a cold/flu and decided that instead of sleeping which is hard when your fully dressed (took the dog out) I would write up a couple of chapters for the story as I feel that you guys deserve it and I have been slacking.

The road was clear from bikes, crocodile chains, bodies and even the missing finger. But what it was not clear of was; blood, gashes in the road from where tyres had skidded and gripped, and the feeling of unknown horror. Anyone who drove down this road and lived would think, that someone had been drinking to much or maybe ran into a car, but what would make them stop and think; 'Where are the bottles? Where is the vomit? Where are the crows eating the carcass of the cow?' But then again no one would be thinking that, as they would be to busy driving down to their destination, they were the lucky ones, the ones that would not have to deal with the horror of being tortured and then eaten.

The unlucky ones were at the house, dumped like a sack of wet sand.

Hoyt and Thomas arrived back at the house, Hoyt was covered in sweat mainly around his arm pits and his chest, his shirt sticking to him like glue to paper. His lips were pushed out into a pout as he made sick sucking noises as he chewed on his salvia and tabacoo, it dribbled out from the corner of his mouth, leaving a thick trail that looked worse than the trail left from an over eaten slug.

Thomas was sweating around his mouth, the leather mask was rubbing at his cheeks and his lips leaving sore rash, that caused his slightly tanned skin to turn a light red. He rose his hand up as he wiped some of his salvia on the back of his hand, leaving a smudged line of blood that had come from the bikers wounds. His dark eyes looked down at the bikers, there was only one corpse so she would be easy to deal with, the others would be a challenge, but he liked challenges it made him feel like he was finally getting revenge on the bullies who had tormented him for so many years.

Thomas flicked out his tongue as he trailed it along his lips slowly picking up the sour taste of sweat, and the grit from the ground that had managed to get onto him from when the bikes had spun out of control. He was standing with a tenced body and a bowed head, as he waited for orders from Uncle Hoyt who was to busy resting against the wall, picking at the thick tabacoo that had managed, to get stuck between his teeth. Dark brown eyes meet dark grey ones, for a brief second before those dark grey eyes narrowed and a harsh order was barked from stained tabacoo lips.

"What are you standing there for boy? Get to work and take these useless corpses down stairs!"

Thomas did not flinch and he did not whimper instead he grabbed the wrist, of the two twin bikers as he dragged them towards the door of the basement using his elbow to open the sliding door. He cringed when the harsh metal of the door cut through his elbow, causing the wound to weep ghostly blood as it trickled down his sweat bare arm. He furrowed his brow as he shook his head and then headed on down the steps listening to the broken bones of the bikers crack, everytime they would hit one of the steps. One of the bikers who was being dragged by Thomas like he was nothing more, than a disobiedent dog on a leash started to wake up, his head was swimming his eyes were starting to flutter opn as he opened his mouth letting out a loud groan as drool started to dribble down out from his mouth, along with one of his teeth.

Thomas looked down at the biker as he dumped their useless bodies on the floor, watching as the one who was awake tried to move himself up, Thomas was watching with a curious look in his eyes. It always amazed him to see how people like this biker would try to get away, when the bones that they would use to move would have broken through muscule tissue, causing it to painful for them to move in an effected way. Crouching down he gripped onto the males shoulders as he hoisted him up, and slammed him down on the blood stained table, causing the young biker to have the wind knocked out of him. Thomas grabbed some thick rope as he wound it around the bikers wrists and ankles as he tied him down against the table, like he was nothing more than a wild pig.

The biker was groaning and grunting as he felt the thin and yet wirey rope cut through his flesh, and rub against torn muscule tissue that he had used so many times in order to grip onto, the handle bars of the bike to make sure that he would not fall off. And here he was lying at the mercy of a man ten times the size of him, and his muscules being broken down by rope that was probally not even brand new. He tried to pull, but the moment that he flexed his hand he felt the table give a slight jolt, singalling that he was tied down. He tilted his head back as he called out for help. But all that was answered from his call was the sound of chains ratteling, he did not want to look he wanted to close his eyes and force himself back onto the bike on the open road, but instead he turned his head to the side as he looked. His mouth hung open wide as his lower, jaw started to quiver as he began to scream loudly at the sight that he saw.

His brother and life time friend was hanging upside down, he had been stripped of his clothing and his dignity. Two large hooks had been pushed into, his ankles causing his legs to be wide open leaving nothing to be covered up for the innocent eye. The young biker curled his lips up as he tried to fight back a sob, but it did not work. The lump inside of his throat broke, causing a low howl of pain and confussion to roll out of his mouth as he closed hsi eyes rather tightly as he rolled his head back, exposing his neck, the muscules within his neck started to tence up as tears spilled down the side of his face.

Thomas turned his head as he looked over his shoulder gazing at the biker who he was not touching, seeing the way that he acted when he was hanging up his unconcious friend. He blinked as he turned his body so that his back was facing both bikers and made his way up the stairs, he knew that he would only have to deal with two of the three bikers who were upstairs, as he knew that Uncle Hoyt would be taking the live girl up to the spare room to have some fun with her. He never understood why his uncle would do this, but he knew better than to say anything as his place was in the basement, or in Susie's arms. At least that is where he dreamed of being some day.

Back upstairs...

The young female biker who had been knocked unconcious by Hoyt was starting to come around, her face was dripping with sweat as strands of her hair stuck to her cheek bones and her forehead. Blood was seen over her hair and part of the flesh on her skull, her wrists and ankles were bound to the bed posts to prevent her from getting away. Her eyes were blood shot and sore looking, they rolled around inside of her skull as she looked around the room, that she was forced to stay in; yellow wallpaper, a broken open brown door, a window that was covered with spider eaten curtains. She shruddered on the itchy covers that she was forced to lay on, her heart soon began to beat fast at the sound of floor boards creaking signalling that someone was coming over. She slowly turned her head as she looked towards the door, her eyes widen and her mouth opened wide.

"You..."