Chapter 08

It hurts. Falling on the floor. Especially if the floor was wet and unpolished which rocky edges and sharp points stick out to the ceiling. Being dragged along such a terrain multiplied the pain. However, I was too weak to scream and too much in pain to fight back. My vision was red after my forehead was slammed on the ground, causing blood to spur out. I tried to kick back at the person dragging me, but their grip was too strong. In vain, I called out for Victor, but he didn't respond to my chagrin.

"Shut the fuck up, Dante," The man grunted as my breaths became shorter and my hands involuntary gripped the hard surface of the floor, dragging them across as a vain attempt to stop. From red, my eyes went blurry and the world around me became distorted.

"Victor, please let me go," I mused weakly. I could feel him shake his head.

"Not yet, not until I'm done with you," There was pain in his voice, shallow yet present agony. He's gonna kill me, perhaps torture me or lock me up in the freezer overnight. What ever it was, I knew I wasn't in a state to disagree with him.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay? Please, I need to get back to Kenny,"

"No. I'm finishing the job whether you like it or not," Victor growled as he pulled me violently through the alleyways of shelves.

Job? What job? This was all so puzzling to me and yet, I still seem to give a shit. I should be fighting back right now, but instead, I'm as fragile as a pussy. That's who I am, I suppose. A big, disgusting pussy, who has to relay on the protection of his friends to get by. This was disgraceful.

Victor let go of my legs once we reached a room and he lifted me up as he kicked the door open. It hurts to be thrown across the room, but it hurts even more when the person who flings you across was once your childhood friend. The floor scraped the entire side of my face and I could the rocks digging into my neck like a painful needle. My head hit something hard, which was the tip of someone's boot and my body stopped as the shoe of a fearsome man peered down at me. He looked familiar. Really familiar...

"He's the one, Victor?" The man asked, as I begin to recognize him as the giant boss of that gang who broke into the center. This was really the last person I need to see.

"Yeah. He's the one," Victor bluntly replied.

I had no absolute idea that he was already familiar with them. And from their conversation, it appears as though he was one of them, and something died inside of me. I thought I trusted you... The man spat on the ground as I looked on with disgust and walked over. He forcibly grabbed my hair and yanked my head up so I could look at him in his dark pupils. God, he's disgusting one, isn't he?

"You're right. We have the real deal here," The man blew smoke in my face from the cigarette he was holding, "I estimate about ten million dollars we can get out of this boy."

"What do you want from me?," I demanded though it sounded more of a desperate plead, in which cause the man to chuckle. Victor remained quiet and watch from the doorway.

"Ever heard of Champion Keisuke?," he asked as the grip on my hair became tighter. I groaned with my teeth clench and he shook my head so I could reply. I just nodded.

He bent down to appear more comforting to me, however it just frightened me more when the man brought his face up close and I could see everything a mother wouldn't like to see nor would be able to see until she could go to confession. Yes, he was scary, big man indeed.

"Well, there's a story out there that the dead champion had a son. Rumors say that he was killed during the massacre of the Keisuke's entire family after Midori killed the champion himself," the man leaned in close—very close to my face, close enough where I could smell alcohol on his breath. "Everyone believe he's dead...But we know better than that now don't we?"

I blinked, unable to comprehend to what he was suggesting, "W-what are you saying, sir?"

The man slowly spread a wide, unstable smile across his face and I watched intently as his left eye twitched about as if his nervous system was malfunctioning, "Champion Midori offered ten million dollars out there for anyone who can find the missing son since he doesn't believe that the boy died during the massacre," then, It began to dawn to me, "You're the former champion's son."

Adrenaline surged through my body, but only enough to push the man away from me and fall back onto the floor in fatigue. I stared wide-eyed at him, "Y-You got it all wrong, mister! I'm not the champion's son! You must have someone mistaken..."

He shook his head in full confidence and peered down at me with glee, "No. We never get anything wrong as long as we got our head with us," this man wasn't their boss? The guy bobbled his head over to the door and I turned to look over my shoulder.

Oh shit.

"Victor? You're their leader?!," There was so much disbelief in my voice that I could pass for mocking the very boy. He shrugged his arms and continued to glower at me with such viciousness, "B-but why? I don't understand..."

"This was never suppose to happen. But it did," he pointed at me, almost accusingly, "And it's your fault."

I was taken aback. This was all happening to fast, "W-what did I do?"

"You just had to provoke me, Dante. To anger me and create something within myself that is a kin to hatred. I originally decided to let you go since you were my friend, and that's why I followed you here, so I can call off the ambush. However, you ruined your chances," Victor explained as he bent down.

His large subordinate suddenly kneed me in the back when I tried to get up. He forced my body down onto the ground and I felt all the air to rush out of my lungs. Victor smirked and lifted my chin up so we could met eye to eye. He looked so different from before, somewhat ambitious, frightening and mentally unstable. Why does everyone I meet turns out to be some psycho?

"The day you bumped into my boys at the festival, they easily recognized you from the bounty picture Midori sent out. I was dubious at first, but until I really saw you, it was clear that you are a cash cow," my skin went cold upon his touch when he rubbed my bruised cheek with his slender fingers. But I apparently forgot about how strong they were when I spat at Victor's face in defiance. Everyone stared with bewilderment and silent, rather eerie shock as he blinked a few times then, wiped my spit off of his face with his arm. I don't know if I should be amused or scared. Perhaps both.

Those slender fingers that once caressed my cheek in a gentle fashion, violently went for the roots of my hair. He dragged me up on my feet and, to my ultimate chagrin, a swinging hard fist dove deep within my abdomen, twisting and almost touching the my weak spine. In a simpler version to what I just experience—Victor just mega-punched the fuck out of me. I felt the urge to throw up, the urge to cringe and curl in a ball with the absolute yearning to be back at home. He let go and I dropped to the ground. Extreme, fire consuming pain exploded through my torso and I throw up. Ow.

"You know, the bounty stated "dead or alive". I could just fucking kill you! I can torture you, cut you up and pull out your intestines so I can fucking hand it to Midori, myself!," Victor angrily announced dripped with so much venom and I shivered frightfully as his eyes darkened to a murky, color that made him appear inhumane. He should really be checked for an anti-social personality disorder.

"Your father won't approve of this, you know! He'll find out eventually," I said as a vain attempt for escape of some sort. Victor's expression didn't waver. Instead, he chuckled lightly and broke into manically laughter that echoed into the halls. He's crazy for laughing, they're insane for following and I'm psycho for actually listening to this. I watched him as he calmed down and gazed back at me with some sort of amused affection.

"Won't approve of this? Well, then how is he going get the money to conduct his cannibalistic, bloody experiments, huh?," He asked mockingly as my eyes grew big with shock. No, it can't be...

"...Y-your father is..."

"Yes. Why, he practically encouraged the very idea! How do you think he got by all those years with cutting up live Pokemon from the forest or little boy orphans from the street. He paid the government to look the other way."

"Little boys! H-he said they were Pokemon! And were already dead when he got them!" I protested teary-eyed. I was lying to myself and I knew it. His father was a manic and Victor himself was just as psycho. It must run in the family. Then I don't want to meet his mother.

"He's a necrophiliac. He murders them before he actually 'gets' them. I thought you were smart, Dante." He said as he smiled viciously at me. His father has sexual intimacy with the bodies?! Oh god. I think I'm going to throw up again...

"But do you want to know something about me, Dante? Unlike my necrophiliac father, I'm a fucking masochist," he said with such disgusting pride.

Something awakened deep within the disturbed boy, something that flooded his entire being. Of extreme lust, hostility and domination of a satanic archetype. I was scared for my fucking life, I really was! I suddenly stumbled quickly over to the door out of pure fear that he'll do something to me close to what his father does. Victor swiftly put out his leg and I tripped.

I landed roughly on the ground, and Victor went to pull me back in. "NO! NO! Don't! Let go of me!" I screamed out loudly as he threw me back into the room.

I turned to look that he had a bowie knife in his hands, touching it, playing it along with his fingers as a smirk spread across his face. Stop. Get away. Get away. Get away!

At the last second, I had a panic attack and threw myself at him, causing both of us to tumble onto the ground. The knife flew out of his hands and landed a few feet away from us, near the door. Victor was still confused with the sudden occurrence of events so I stumbled back onto my feet and scurried over to the knife, ducking behind and around grunts who tried to halt any attempts of escaping.

I was so fucking close. I really was and I do not intend to perish here, however, by the time my hands came into contact with the knife's handle, I felt some sort of powerful shock struck me and run through my body. A painful, burning feeling that zipped through my body and caused my heart to beat and jolt in different directions as if it was malfunctioning. It hurt, yet it could scream nor move. Instead, my hand jerked open, the knife fell as do I shaking around against the ground as the shock still occupied my veins.

I managed to turn my head in the direction to where the attack came from and only saw a lone Jolteon a few feet away. It was Victor's by all obvious premises and it shouldn't surprise me that it was on the plan to kidnap me as well.

As I remember, the poor thing was practically a servant to Victor's divine will. The thing glared at me and electricity bounced off of it's yellow body like a circuit wire in water. I wonder what chances Kenny and I have against that thing.

Then, there's was clapping, such sarcastic, ridiculous and quite overused to clique clapping and weakly, my eyes shifted to Victor standing above me, smirking of amusement, detest and some sort of fatigue. He had a long night now hasn't he?

"You put on quite a show tonight now, my friend, but now, I believe its my time to take the spotlight," Victor said.

He bent down and took the knife off of the floor, brushing and smoothing the edges out as if to see if it were still usable.

I would've kicked him if his Jolteon hadn't paralyzed me. He then looked to in a malicious fashion, hands gripped tightly around the handle, so tightly that it started to bleed as skin turned white. His teeth flashed with the corners of his mouth twitching in impatience.

"Shall we start?"

Victor bent down and beads of sweat ran down my face as he lifted the blade to the thin edge of my neck. He stared at it and I felt violated in such a way due to the loving, almost passive expression he held as he gently ran the knife around my neck. I moved away a bit and suddenly as if I anger him, he elbowed my head and I fell back on the ground. Dizziness surpassed my consciousness and for awhile, I laid still.

The blow to the head was so powerful that I had lost all sense to protest nor fight back when I felt the sharp end of the blade trace around my stomach. When my vision reunited with me, I then was able top see that Victor was on top of me, appearing as though he intended to stab me. Instead the boy tore the front of my shirt open, exposing my skin to blistering cold of the basement.

"W-What are you doing?" I asked, frightened that Victor intended to harvest my organs and sell them on the black market as they do in some parts of the region.

"Experimenting,"

He threw the knife down to my sleeve where it pinned my hand to the ground. Victor smiled maliciously when I figured out what he intended to do and suddenly, I found myself at another panic attack, trying to free myself.

The bastard wanted to rape me! Goddammit, I thought this only happened to chicks who chose to hitchhike at night while wearing a very short skirt, but apparently, God forbid, it happens to men too! I watched with terror as he reached into his pocket and pulled something long and thin out.

It was a syringe.

"D-Don't you do it..." I warned, but it sounded more like a frightened plead.

"Do what?" Victor asked innocently, with a mocking, sadistic expression. This monster had no remorse.

Jesus Christ, I wouldn't be surprise if he grew up to be some demented serial killer. Since his father likes to slice animals and fuck little dead boys, I doubt not Victor once sent small Pokemon on fire just for fun.

He moved in closer with the syringe and stabbed it into my chest, pushing whatever drug that was in there into my veins. Something hot bursted in my head and I struggled as the shock ran through my brain down my legs. Its stings like something I haven't felt before and at the same time, I found it the rushing feeling to exciting—goddammit, am I the masochist here?

"How are you feeling? Tired, perhaps?" Victor mocked as my cheeks burned up suddenly from the drug. It's really hot in here, as if I was in an oven, and it would

By the time he took the needle out, the whole room was spinning around uncontrollably. My head felt as if someone poured gallons of water in it and my breath shortened drastically. Something hot erupted in my loins and felt an urge for something I couldn't get the word of. Other thank that, I had lost all control of my body, and the only thing I could do was move my eyes to Victor.

"How you feel? Tired? Weak? High, perhaps?" he mocked as he caressed my burning cheeks affectionately like a mother to her newborn. However, there was something evil lurking behind there and I could feel it.

"What did you do to me?"

"You were having a tantrum, so I gave you a little something to calm you down. Isn't it working?" he said as his fingers slide down to my neck, rubbing softly around the marks where he last tried to choke me.

"Strange...I usually have such a slow temper, and your remark earlier would've cause nothing...but I had this sudden urge to kill you. I wonder why..."

Victor leaned down until our faces was inches apart and I could see the physical blood lust burning in his eyes. The bizarre part was that he sounded remorseful, as if he didn't want any of this happen. As if he was being forced to by some unknown power. His pupils were shaking uncontrollably and for the first time, I wasn't the only helpless one here. Victor was scared.

"I-I don't want to hurt you...really I don't...but it's your fault," He then glared at me, "It's all your fault...you had to provoke me...and this urge to see you dead...I don't even know where it came from..." Victor whispered softly.

His fingers slowly wrapped around my neck, as his pupils focused elsewhere, still thinking, still morbidly fearful. They were gentle, but could feel his grip being forced to tighten. I stared at him, hopeful that he could look into my eyes and see that I meant no harm. But Victor refused.

"To think that I felt so happy when I first saw you...that I would tell my boys and my father to stay away from you even despite the large bounty on your head...I thought we could go back to being friends..." he said looking up with a distant, delusional expression, some emotion of emptiness.

Of sadness and regret was hidden beneath his pupils and suddenly, I felt scared. There was nothing more frightening than being in the same room as an unstable killer, and I feared that the worst was about to come. Victor's fingers tightened around my windpipe and I felt my breath shorten.

"Please...don't do this," I pleaded, trying to place my hand on his, until I realized that both my hands were pinned down, one by his knife and other by the rough sole of his boot, which pressed down harder when I spoke.

"Shut up...shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Victor hands suddenly squeezed hard around my throat and all the air was forced out of my lungs. Tears flooded out of the corners of my eyes and my legs jerked and kicked up. I couldn't breathe! I couldn't breathe and it burning my goddamn throat!

"Just die...Just die already," he growled as he took one hand off my throat and it went for the knife that pinned down my wrist. He pulled it out and lifted it into the air.

"Please...r-rethink this!" I managed to say, with my tears staining the heat of my cheeks. He burned holes through my pupils with the raw hate and ferocity of his desire to see me dead.

It didn't help. His hate blinded and twisted him into something close to a monster.

The knife struck into my stomach and a shriving pain worse than fire proceeded to drive itself deeper within. It hurts, it hurts like nothing I've experienced before, as if my organs were lit with such vigor.

I remembered screaming, but I couldn't hear it. It was muffled as far as I could tell. He had his hand over my mouth. The crimson blade, glint with reflection of light stabbed itself into my throat and slit around my neck.

I couldn't breathe! I was choking! Gurgling on my own fearful taste of blood filling into my lungs like a flood! I rolled on the cold floor beneath and me and lost all strength to move. Everything is red. Someone is speaking, of sorrowful regret and remorse and everything is wet. It's all wet and burns like flames. It hurts, it hurts so much. It won't stop! Granny, Spencer, Kenny, where are you?!