This is where i yell TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR ANYONE SENSITIVE. Next chapter is far less cringe-y.
"Let's go meet your friend," whispered David as he moved his hand from his mouth to grasp tightly to his torso.
Greg finally found his voice and whispered unsteadily, "The garage door is right there. You have me, let's leave together. Keep it just the two of us."
The man leaned his head against his shoulder, pressing them closer together, he felt hot breath on the back of his neck that made his skin crawl. Greg had been thinking about this scenario all week; about what he would do if David found a way to get him in the house. He spent hours planning instead of sleeping. He was sure he would fight or say something convincing to lower his guard and grab the gun. Yet, he froze. There was fight or flight and he chose the lesser known third option of doing nothing. He was a hostage now. He failed to protect himself. All he had left was to try to get him to leave the house before he killed Nick.
Eternity passed before David loosened his grip, kissing him once more. "Incredibly tempting. Walk." He pushed forward, Greg, however, dug his heels in.
"Please," he whispered pleadingly, "We don't have to involve him. I'll do anything you want, I'll go anywhere you want to go."
Suddenly Nick yelled down the hall, "Hey since it's our night off I thought we should rent a movie online. I think I'm ready to watch one of those black and white films you won't shut up about."
The man pressed his lips next to Greg's ear. "Move." Greg didn't budge.
"I'll do anything you want, just-just please don't hurt him." The man gave him another tight squeeze.
"That's what I'm counting on."
Nick meanwhile was drying the dishes blissfully unaware.
"I'm thinking some dumb horror movie sounds good. What's that one called, with the giant slime ball that eats everything?"
"I believe you're referring to The Blob."
Nick turned around sharply to the unfamiliar voice, dropping the plate in his hand that went scattering across the floor in shatters. Standing in his kitchen was David Hughes clasping onto Greg tightly, gun to his temple. He automatically went to reach for his gun only stopping when David pressed his gun harder into Greg's head making him crane his neck. He noticed Greg's eyes were wide with terror, his breathing irregular.
"Put your gun on the counter Mr. Stokes, slowly," David spoke firmly.
Nick's heart raced furiously. His mind began racing on what he could do. He knew David wasn't there to kill Greg, not right away, and with an officer still outside his home, the moment he took a shot he'd be dead too. He also knew, that this man was on the run, his life was over already and yet he stayed because of this obsession. If he screamed, he would probably be shot, Greg would be taken hostage and then killed himself. His only choice was hoping he could bargain with him.
"Maybe we can work something out," Nick spoke low and calm.
David laughed. "Everything I want is right here." His hand groped roughly across Greg's chest making him shutter, no longer able to look Nick in the eyes.
Nick contemplated whether he could take a shot before he had the chance to hurt Greg. They were so close and he was scarcely bigger than Greg himself, he didn't dare and with deep loathing he placed his only weapon on the counter and stood back.
"Sit," He said roughly gesturing to the dining room table. Nick moved reluctantly to a nearby chair and glared. The man pulled something from behind him and threw a roll of duct tape at him.
"I'm sure you know what to do. Legs too." Nick took a deep breath and began wrapping his legs and one arm relatively secure to the chair he was sitting on. Then suddenly David whacked Greg hard on the head knocking him to the ground in a heap.
"Hey I did what you said!" Nick yelled getting slightly to his feet so that he stood awkwardly hunched. Greg was moving slightly, rubbing at his head. David quickly wrapped Nicks other hand and an excessive amount of tape around his mouth that wrapped around his whole head. Then he pulled Greg up by his hair as he winced and thrust him into the chair next to Nick, duct taped as well. He wrapped Nick's restraints more tightly for good measure than briskly turned his back on them and began rummaging in the kitchen cupboards.
Greg blinked back flashing lights in his eyes, his head pounding in tune with his heart. He rested his head on the back of his chair and stared at the ceiling, defeated. He was going to die. And he was taking Nick with him. He angrily yanked at the duct tape around his wrists with no luck.
"Ah, here we go!" David spoke suddenly from the kitchen, bringing over a bottle of whiskey and sitting in the chair next to Greg. He poured three glasses, placed one in front of each of them, and unwrapped one of Greg's hands. He raised his glass gesturing for Greg to do the same with the gun.
"To your good health," he said smiling, revealing a missing tooth behind a 5 o'clock shadow, and then tossing his drink back. Greg left his arm hanging in the air lamely.
"This is where you drink Greg." He flinched when he said his name forcefully though didn't move his glass. He couldn't drink, he knew it would take away his chance at fighting back. Greg knew he wasn't strong, but he was fast and quick-witted. Alcohol would take that away.
"Drink," he repeated darkly, pointing the gun instead at Nick. With trembling hands, he raised the glass to his lips and took a small sip before David leaned over and tipped the whole drink down his throat making him sputter alcohol all down his front, his throat burning.
"Come on, drink like a man." Greg glowered as he poured another glass for each of them.
"To my brother, may he rest in peace," he said with a slight twinge of bitterness. This time Greg threw the drink back completely and slammed the glass down in anger. The burning of the alcohol brought him back to his senses. All could he think to do was stall.
"Why'd you do it?" Greg asked, as he poured another glass of whiskey. David leaned back shaking his greasy dark hair out of his eyes, gun now disregarded on the table out of Greg's reach.
"Well because of you," he said casually. "You brought me back to life that night. I am my true self, even if it's a monster."
"Did your brother not approve of your hobbies then?" Greg scoffed. David frowned.
"He caught me 14 years ago, a week after he came back from the war, covered in medals. I followed that man you found in the grave next to my father to his home. I had just started, he was knocked out on the floor, smaller than I normally go for, when in comes Lieutenant Hughes. You should have seen his face." David smiled at the memory. "His jaw hit the floor utterly disgusted to have me as a brother. At the time he was everything to me. I worshipped him, he was who I wanted to be and these…urges, I have were my deepest shame. Well while I was pleading with him to understand, Mr. Foster started stirring and before we knew it he had seen both our faces and he was bound to recognize a veteran hero. I had to kill him. Didn't even get to finish what I started. Let's drink to him then. To the one who got away." He tossed another glass back, Greg did the same hesitantly. His "drunk" limit was soon approaching, it didn't take much whiskey to set him back.
"I promised my brother I wouldn't do it again and I kept my word for 14 years and then you." He leaned forward again, placing a hand on his thigh that Greg quickly moved aside. "It was like nothing else mattered in that instant when I had you on the ground, dazed. It felt right."
Greg quickly changed the subject. "What about the other men, in the photos. How many of them did you kill?" David poured another round.
"Have you identified them yet?" he asked curiously.
Greg thought it over. If he managed to finish with them and escape he didn't want him going after any possible witnesses.
"No." David laughed, shaking his head.
"Keeping it close to the vest then. That's fine. None of them will testify. I have a knack for spotting insecurity. No, none of them will say a damn thing. I doubt any were even reported and the first two I was incredibly sloppy with, I should have been caught ages ago if they came forward. Can I guess though? I bet it was Mr. Ferris. He's another that got away, not as damaged as the others."
"Do you remember all of their names?" Greg asked slyly.
"I remember every bump and crevice."
"Did you kill any of them?" Greg repeated.
David stared at him quizzically. "What's with the 20 questions? Planning on bringing closure to the families?" Greg didn't respond, his brain was starting to get light headed that had nothing to do with his head injury. "I'm not going to identify any of them if they didn't want to come forward in the first place. Least I could." This time he only pours in Greg's glass. "Drink up."
"Can I get a name if I do?" he asked innocently. David jumped up suddenly and pulled his head back by his hair making Greg wince. Nick struggled against his restraints, yelling between the duct tape.
"Is this a game to you?" He breathed wildly. Greg could smell the alcohol and body odor wafting off him making him want to gag. "I'm not here to bargain, you simply do as I say. Now." He forced the glass into his hand. "Drink."
Greg glared back, and whether he was getting drunk and reckless or clasping on to some form of dignity, he responded, "If I keep going at this rate I'll get alcohol poisoning and die before you get the chance to do your worst. I. Will. Not."
David stepped back, contemplating for a moment before scoffing and sitting back down in his chair.
"You're right Greg, I'll slow it down. Besides, we have all day. Why don't you ask me one of your 20 questions?"
Greg thought it over. "Why'd you kill the Steidbakers? They would've told you where the chip was. They were in hiding, they weren't going to go to the cops."
"They weren't supposed to die. My brother sent Jason and I to retrieve the chip, and I'm sure by now you know what kind of man Jason was. He was brutal beyond my standards. He forced that old woman to drink this poison that burned her throat while she was alive. She was writhing on the floor in agony and he just stood there watching, like his favorite show was on. I'll never forget the smell." He tipped the glass of whiskey in his mouth and wrinkled his nose. "Can you imagine what he would've done to that kid? I had to spare him the pain."
"You killed them…to protect them?" Greg said incredulously, his vision swimming and his palms warm.
"He would have killed them anyways, and like I said, at the time I wanted to be like my brother, though I guess he would have saved them. Not that he could have done much of anything in the end. When he got back from the war he was broken- too much of a coward to do any real action himself but content to watch that crazy bastard causing pain wherever he went."
"If he was such a good guy then why pair up with Jason at all?"
"He never talked about it. I got the impression that Jason was a means to an end. We needed his connection and knowledge to Alliance International.
I think it's been long enough. Have a drink." Greg did so reluctantly, wincing. The whole situation seemed highly bizarre and funny for some reason. It occurred to him that this big strong man that had knocked him out in the alley was not much bigger than him- certainly not as strong as Nick- and he laughed.
David smiled, "What's funny?"
Greg smiled back. "This is." He said, gesturing around him. "You did all this, for one person. You risked getting caught, the death penalty, because, what, I awoke in you some kind of identity crisis? You could have fled the country but instead you're here, getting me drunk and telling me your life story. Are we moving on to your childhood next? Did daddy not love you enough?"
"Daddy," David said venomously, "Loved me too much."
Greg narrowed his eyes. "So, he showed you the ropes then? Well now I get it, you're a stereotype. The victim becomes the victimizer and the cycle continues." David stood up suddenly and punched Greg with such force in the gut he was thrown back in his chair and landed with a loud thud on the ground, wheezing. Nick was protesting as fiercely as he could. David took a deep breath, his eyes wild, then propped Greg back up, his head lolling a little too heavily.
"I'm sorry, Alcohol makes me angrier. The one thing my father passed down to me. I'm really very gently with my men. You remember?" He crouched down smoothly, clasped hard against Greg's free hand, and brushed his hair gently out of his face then stroked down his neck lovingly. Greg could hardly register his touch. The punch to his gut and the alcohol made his stomach churn menacingly and he felt like throwing up.
"I was at your place the next night. You were frowning in your sleep, your nose wrinkled. I was going to take you then and there. Then I saw this photo." David pulled a folded-up photo out of his back pocket, the picture of him and Nick drinking. "It reminded me of my brother and I, the night he first came back. He said he was sorry for leaving me with our father. We were going to be close again." David frowned and sat back in his chair. "He was going to turn me in. He said he couldn't ignore the monster I'd become any longer, that I was just like our father." He slammed his fist into the table. "Well, I guess I couldn't ignore the monster either." David grabbed Gregs head and this time poured the whiskey directly down his throat. He sloshed alcohol all down his front, he couldn't breathe, his throat ached. Then he pulled back, Greg coughing wildly.
"I'm going to take a shower and when I get back, we can finish what we started." He stood up, taped Greg's free hand to the chair and put tape over his mouth. Then he kissed the top of his head and walked away throwing his clothes on the ground as he went.
Nick watched him leave then quickly turned to Greg trying to get his attention. Greg was focusing on keeping his food down, he knew if he threw up now, he'd choke on it. They could hear the shower turning on in the bathroom, Nick took this chance to bang his chair. Greg rolled his head to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot. He had to get Greg out of there, he was in no shape to fight back. He looked at the glass on the table and then at Greg's hand that was closest to it and tried to communicate that he should push it closer to him. Greg seemed to get the hint, even through his haze, and began straining for it. It was no use he couldn't reach it. With all the strength he had in him, he hopped his chair closer, his ribs screaming at him. He grasped the glass firmly in his hand and instead of giving it to Nick he slammed it as hard as he could into the table. Shards of glass scattered everywhere, puncturing his hand in the process, blood dripped down his wrist. Nick glared at him, Greg however, held a sharp piece of glass in his bleeding hand and started hopping painfully towards Nick. Nick kept glancing at his hall to see if David was going to check on all the noise. Finally, Greg was at his wrist, hacking away at the duct tape as Nick pulled at it making it taught. His hand was slow and sloppy, giving Nick thin cuts along the way. He was about halfway through the tape when the blood made his fingers slip and he dropped the glass to the floor. Greg clenched his bleeding hands into a fist and closed his eyes, putting his head back, defeated. Nick started wrestling with the tape wildly when he heard footsteps behind him.
David tilted his chair back, picking his feet off the floor. He looked at the glass and his nearly severed restraint and smirked. "So close." He let the chair drop backwards, slamming him into the floor. Pain radiated down his spine. As he looked up at David, lights bleeding into each other, droplets of water falling from his hair, he noticed he was wearing Greg's clothes, fitting him a little snugger. He twisted some more, kicking at odd angles to get loose, with no improvement.
David turned to Greg, who was staring at some far away point, eye's glazed. He grabbed the gun off the table, and a knife and cut Greg out of his bindings. Kneeled beside him, he grasped the side of Greg's face and spoke quietly, "I think it's time." Greg's heart raced wildly. He clawed at his arm, completely disregarding the gun. He was weak though, and dizzy. David yanked him up easily by his waste and threw him onto the tiled floor. Greg tried to crawl away, forced to stop when David climbed on top of him. He turned Greg around to face him. Greg punched his face as hard as he could with his bleeding hand, opening the wound and getting blood down his arm. David put the gun down and picked Greg up by his shirt with both hands and slammed him into the floor. Greg was knocked out, unconscious.
Nick was screaming and thrashing throughout. He twisted and turned his whole body trying to escape. David was on top of Greg, pulling his t-shirt up, groping his bruised torso. He started grinding over his pants, lips pressed against his face. Nick continued screaming, and thrashing finally landing a good kick against the table sending it loudly against the wall. David stopped and turned to him angrily. He grabbed the knife he used to cut Greg free and stood over him, eyes ablaze.
"You, are no longer needed." Then he leaned down and stabbed Nick in the abdomen. He screamed louder than ever, blood soaked his shirt, leaving a small pool on the floor. "I hope you live long enough to hear me end his suffering. It's what he would have wanted." He pulled the knife out, Nick screaming, and dropped it on the floor. He then walked over and picked up Greg's limp form by the arms and dragged him down the hall and out of sight.
Nick stared after him, breathing short shallow breaths. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, he was sure he was losing too much blood. I can't die like this, I can't let that happen to Greg. I have to get up, He kept repeating. He yelled and twisted some more until he felt the chair arm loosen. He forced his arm left and right, wiggling the arm of the chair until it snapped. His hand now free he reached for the knife and cut himself loose, pulling the tape off his mouth. As quickly and quietly as he could he followed the sound of them to his bedroom, wincing with every step he took, hunched over dripping blood, knife first.
Greg could feel himself being dragged across the floor, his head and ribs throbbing. He blindly reached for anything to stop himself from going with him; he caught briefly on the molding before being yanked again giving him splinters under his nails. With one great heave, he was thrown onto the bed. He tried crawling away before David set the gun down on the bedside table and pinned him again face down. Greg wanted desperately to be knocked out again. he didn't want to remember any of this. He tried getting up, bucking him off. David simply reached under him, pressing their bodies together. He could feel him getting excited as he kissed his neck softly and roamed his hands to his pants. Greg kept moving, wriggling to get away as he felt him unbutton his pants and undo the zipper.
"Doesn't this feel right? You were meant to be mine, you found me, that night in the alley." He thrust his hand down his boxers and grabbed.
Then suddenly he was off him. Greg turned around apprehensively and saw Nick, bleeding, wrestling with him on the ground. Nick was punching David over and over until he had to stop, utterly exhausted. David took this moment to hit him back, knocking Nick off of him, the knife flying across the room. He went to punch him again. Nick saw it coming and grabbed his arm and twisted it so he was now in a headlock. Nick used all his force to keep David in place who was now clawing at his arm, desperate for air.
"Nick, let him go," Greg said, his voice rough and slurred. Nick looked up and saw him standing shakily, pointing the gun.
Nick spoke through gritted teeth, "He doesn't deserve to live."
"We need him alive, he's the only one who can identify the others." Greg grabbed the dresser with one hand to keep him steady. "Nick, please."
Nick let go reluctantly and limped over to stand behind Greg. David lay gasping for air on the floor still clawing at his throat.
"I'll never reveal them. You'll have to kill me Greg," David rasped.
"He's not going to give us shit, we need to end it," Nick pleaded. "Give me the gun, I'll do it."
Greg didn't move, his hand was shaking too much. He didn't think even if he did fire, he would hit David at all.
David still kneeling on the floor, yelled, "Do it Greg! Kill me! Or I'll follow you like a shadow for the rest of your life!"
Greg lowered the gun, and with all the strength he had left, he kicked David in the face, breaking his nose and knocking him out.
He stood there in shock, shaking, then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick drop to the ground.
He rushed to his side, examining his injuries. He grabbed a nearby shirt and put pressure on his wound.
"I-I'll be right back," Greg stumbled quickly out of the room and came back with his cell phone. He put pressure again on his wound and talked to the 9-1-1 operator. With his adrenaline bottoming out, Nick could feel himself slipping away. He reached out to Greg and his hand fell limp beside him.