The Scene Before That - The Fire of Dying
"Oh fuck. Fuck."
Mikey Finnus hissed to himself as he ran through the darkness. He was going to die. Fuck, Jesus, there was a maniac here, and he was killing them all, and he was fucking going to die.
He had to get to the door. Get to the door, and then get out of here and then…
He'd need protection. The cops, he'd go to the cops. Normally that would be out of the question. He was an Eightball. He was tough. He didn't want the cops; the cops wanted him. Right now, though…
Get the door, open the door. The stupid fucking door, why wouldn't it open!?
This guy had taken two seconds to leave half the gang lying bleeding on the ground. Not Mikey though. Mikey had dived behind the crates at the back of the warehouse. Mikey had spent the last ten minutes crawling towards the edge of the darkness and trying to ignore the screams and the crunch of bones as his friends died in agony. Then he ran.
God, this stupid fucking, fucking door! He couldn't bash the thing down, that would make noise. He had to get out quietly. A window, he'd try a window, he'd…
The darkness lit up. He screamed involuntarily and spun around and there were flames. He couldn't see much else. He couldn't do anything but stare at the flames.
"Fuck, God, Jesus…"
"Quiet!" The voice was dark, and dangerous, and cut through the air.
"Please, please don't kill me okay? Just…"
"You will die."
"Anything, I'll fucking do anything, I swear…"
"You will die slowly."
"God please. Why the fuck are you doing this? What the fuck do you want?"
"Killer!"
"What? What?"
"The clinic. The clinic you burned down. Innocents died. Killers, all of you."
"Oh geez… Oh fuck…We didn't mean… We didn't want no innocents… I swear. It was the guys from the Manics. We didn't want no innocents to die…"
"It was a clinic. It was a medical clinic."
"Yeah but I didn't… we didn't…"
"You did."
"I'm gonna die."
"Yes."
And the screaming began anew.
***
"Oh fuck. Fuck."
Mikey Finnus hissed to himself as he ran through the darkness. He was going to die. Fuck, Jesus, there was a maniac here, and he was killing them all, and he was fucking going to die.
He had to get to the door. Get to the door, and then get out of here and then…
He'd need protection. The cops, he'd go to the cops. Normally that would be out of the question. He was an Eightball. He was tough. He didn't want the cops; the cops wanted him. Right now, though…
Get the door, open the door. The stupid fucking door, why wouldn't it open!?
This guy had taken two seconds to leave half the gang lying bleeding on the ground. Not Mikey though. Mikey had dived behind the crates at the back of the warehouse. Mikey had spent the last ten minutes crawling towards the edge of the darkness and trying to ignore the screams and the crunch of bones as his friends died in agony. Then he ran.
God, this stupid fucking, fucking door! He couldn't bash the thing down, that would make noise. He had to get out quietly. A window, he'd try a window, he'd…
The darkness lit up. He screamed involuntarily and spun around and there were flames. He couldn't see much else. He couldn't do anything but stare at the flames.
"Fuck, God, Jesus…"
"Quiet!" The voice was dark, and dangerous, and cut through the air.
"Please, please don't kill me okay? Just…"
"You will die."
"Anything, I'll fucking do anything, I swear…"
"You will die slowly."
"God please. Why the fuck are you doing this? What the fuck do you want?"
"Killer!"
"What? What?"
"The clinic. The clinic you burned down. Innocents died. Killers, all of you."
"Oh geez… Oh fuck…We didn't mean… We didn't want no innocents… I swear. It was the guys from the Manics. We didn't want no innocents to die…"
"It was a clinic. It was a medical clinic."
"Yeah but I didn't… we didn't…"
"You did."
"I'm gonna die."
"Yes."
And the screaming began anew.
***