Part 3: A little metaphorical blood shed
He puts the gun together skillfully, watching the sixteen year old chess player as he does so. He seems to enjoy the feeling that the boy is starting to fear him. This gives him an odd satisfaction that makes his whole body tingle. He wonders if this is the feeling some people get when they are in love. What ever the feeling he likes it. This feeling that he can suddenly do god-like things because he can control every emotion of this little frightened kid, whose wavy brown hair is falling into his face blocking his eyes from what Philip is doing. Philip chuckles notices the boy's fingernails are tearing into his palm as he waits patiently to see what is going to happen.
"Are you going to hurt me?" The boy's voice is barely a whisper, as he says it. As if he is scared to say it, like by asking the question he might get some other punishment. He doesn't like this abandoned warehouse that they are in. It frightens him, it makes him wonder if Philip does kill him, how long it will take people to find him.
Philip doesn't say anything, just lifts the gun where he assembled it on the table. He holds the gun up towards the boy, watching his brown corduroy pants, he wants to see if this action will make the boy wet himself because he thinks it will make the experience more enjoyable, since then Philip will have control over more than his fear. He gives him a smile, the corner of his lips raising up slightly making it almost seem like a smirk. "BANG!" He shouts!
The boy drops to the floor as if he is hit; he covers his heads with his hands. He begins to feel urine running down his legs as he falls to the floor.
Philip laughs softly, an amused sort of laughter. The smile on his face enlarges. "For a genius who skipped two grades, you really are a stupid fellow." His smile changes to a smirk. He sets the gun back on the table, and disassembles it quickly.
The boy moves his hands, and looks up at Philip. "I don't understand why you are doing this? I thought you were my friend?" He checks for blood.
"Who said I wasn't. I am trying to teach you to be more observant." Philip smiles again after speaking. He changes the tone of his voice to a whinny voice, which is his imitation of the boy "I need help Philip…I am blind sometimes, I need to become more observant to non academic things."
The boy gets up slowly. "That's not what I meant." There is terror in his voice, as if he isn't sure what Philip is going to do next.
"I was just trying to help. I thought you liked police dramas and such." Philip turns his smile into a look of fake disappointment, and turns on his heels to walk out of the room. "See you at graduation, Tim."
"I don't understand…." The boy seems confused, and he is unsure if he should go after Philip or not.
Philip turns back, the same sad disappointed frown on his face. "Oh, course you don't…If you were observant, you would have seen that the bullet wasn't loaded, and now next time you will watch for that."
The boy stares at him for a moment, frozen. He is not sure what to do, or what to say. He was never taught to look for loading of a gun, and before today, he doesn't even remember ever seeing a gun except on television, and movies.
"I have to go work on some other stuff." Philip looks down at the boy's pants, with a smirk. "You might want to go home yourself and change those."