Mark thought deeply and intensely as he walked the familiar path back to the loft in which he lived. He was humming a song that was on the radio all the time, and he would often forget the tune; when that happened he just went back to the beat of the chorus and continued. Roger was celebrating his 25th birthday tomorrow. Mark's dark blue eyes sparkled with joy as he thought of having the opportunity to confront Roger about something he'd been thinking about for so long.
Mark was still deep in thought when a black car drove and abruptly stopped beside him. He kept walking, a bit faster this time. Mark heard two car doors opening, but didn't dare look back to see what the people looked like. By this time, he was running as fast as he possibly could. Mark looked back to see if the people were following, and was blind-sided by a heavy object, that felt to him like a steel pipe. He fell over, still conscious, but not able to see or hear clearly. He writhed in pain, feeling blood trickling from his head. He saw a large, pale figure standing over him. "Wh-who...ugh," Mark managed to say.
"Say goodnight, bitch," Mark heard the pale figure say loudly. He say a large object coming toward him and felt a sharp jolt of pain in the right side of his head. His thoughts trailed off, and he could no longer see or hear...
"Hey, Joanne, have you seen Mark?" Roger said into the phone.
"No, I haven't seen him in a while-hold on, will you?" Joanne set the phone down, and Roger could hear Joanne talking to Maureen about something. Joanne picked the phone up again and said, "Maureen hasn't seen him in a while, either."
"Okay, thanks...Well, I better go-I need to look for him. I'm starting to get worried about him. Can you possibly come over to help? Okay. Okay. Yeah, get everyone that you can. Okay. Okay. Yeah. Of course it's okay if Maureen comes. Oh, you weren't sure because-no, he's fine now. Okay. I'll see you then. Bye." Roger hung up the phone and walked to the rickety, old balcony. He looked out over the alleyways and streets that were near the loft. Where could Mark be? He was supposed to wait for Maureen, Joanne, Collins, and Angel, but he really needed to go ahead and start looking. He grabbed his coat, hat, scarf, and headed out the door.
When Roger got to the alleyway, he looked all around him. He didn't see Mark anywhere. So, he ventured several alleys over, yielding no result. He began going to different apartment buildings and asking the people if they had seen him.
Roger reached one particularly abandoned looking apartment, it's door halfway open. He opened it the rest of the way. It looked like it haden't been cleaned in years-not that Roger cared. There were broken condoms on the floor, along with ropes, empty lube containers, and...Mark's scarf? Roger ran to a ripped up couch, from under which Mark's scarf was showing. He picked it up. It was covered in red stains, which Roger soon realized to be blood. His grip tightened on the scarf, and his face began turning red. He threw the scarf back on the floor angrily, and walked to a room that he thought was probably the bedroom. When he reached the door, he heard music coming from inside the room. He couldn't tell what the song was, but after a few seconds of standing there, he heard moans and stifled screaming, which he recognized to be Mark's.
Roger tried opening the door, but it was looked, so he kicked it down, using all of his strength. When the door fell, he saw a small, but muscular man standing at the end of the bed. Mark's legs were in the air, and right away, he knew what was going on. Roger approached the man, turning him around to face him. The man's face filled with horror.
"I'm going to give you 1 second to get out of here, or I swear to God, I will kill you," Roger said calmly, with a tinge of hate in his voice, knowing that the man couldn't leave in one second. "Your time is up..."Roger said, pushing the still naked man against the wall. Mark sat, watching, tied to the bed. He was raw and bleeding from being raped so many times. There was dry blood on his head, and the rope on his wrists was cutting into his skin. Roger punched the man several times in the groin, and threw him against the wall countless times. The man fell to the floor, breathing heavily. Roger kicked him until he fainted. "Mother fucker! You don't fuck with my friends-especially Mark!"he screamed, sitting down at the edge of the bed, panting. He looked at Mark's sweet face, and saw terror in his eyes. He was crying, and still gagged. "I'm sorry you had to see that," Roger said, soothingly brushing Mark's face with his fingertips. Mark flinched at the touch, and Roger drew his hand back. "Here, let's get these off," he said, untying Mark's bonds. His clothes were gone, so, Roger took off his coat, and put it on Mark. Roger picked him up and carried him back to the loft, where everyone had gathered to help search.
When the sliding door opened, everyone turned to see Roger holding Mark. Gasps of surprise rang out of the small group of friends. "A little help?" he asked, staring at his friends.
