"This isn't happening, this isn't happening.." I tried to calm myself, but it was no use. There was someone there, and we were most likely next.
"You know what, I'm just gonna go take a shower." Preston, who had been silent up until now, got up and began to leave.
"Preston, you don't know what's out there!" I protested.
"I'll be fine, don't worry." He insisted, walking out.
-Preston P.O.V:-
I had to admit, I was scared, but I wanted to show my friends that there was nothing wrong.
It was a bit to take in, Jason being dead and all. And the way he had been killed must've really hurt, because of how he was now.
I went into the bathroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower. The warm water did feel good. I closed my eyes.. biggest mistake of my life.
"Why hello there, TBNRfrags." A voice I knew instantly filled my ears as he taped my mouth closed with duct tape, and tied my wrists together.
"You know what the process of a slaughterhouse is?" He asked me. I shook my head.
"Well, before they cut the animal to pieces.. they have to kill it, and the way the do that.." He kicked my legs out from underneath me, catching me just before my head hit the tub, and lifted me, legs first, to a hook in the ceiling, tying the ropes to my ankles and left me hanging there. My tears flowed freely now as he pulled out a sharp knife.
"What's the matter? You scared?" He taunted. I simply squeezed my eyes just and waited for my death.
-Adam P.O.V:-
Preston was taking a while, too long for me.
"I'm gonna go check on Preston. Anyone wanna come?" I asked. They all nodded.
We walked down the hall to the bathroom.
"Preston?" I called, knocking. No answer.
"Preston, answer me, or we're coming in." I demanded, banging on the door. Still no answer. I tried to open the door, but it was locked.
"Oh for christ's sake! Move!" Mitch pushed me aside and knocked the door in with one swift kick.
Preston was inside, alright. He was taking a bath.. in his own blood. The tub was filled with the crimson contents of Preston's dead body. I ran over and shook him, with a shred of hope that he might still be alive, but got no response. His throat had been slit, but the blood had somehow been able to pour down his face. I realized then that he had been killed in the same manner as a cow or pig... hung upside-down with a slit throat to bleed out. I took a deep breath and plunged my hand into the still-warm blood, and unplugged the drain. As soon as it was gone, I turned on the shower and rinsed it away with boiling hot water.
"A-Adam.. Look!" I turned to Ty, who was pointing at the mirror. It held a message, written on the mirror so that only steam would make it appear.
"Coming for you.." I read aloud in a whisper.
"We need to get out of here!" Jerome cried. We all raced for the nearest exit, but it was locked. I couldn't figure out why until a crack of thunder echoed overhead, and I immediately realized..
"This house is protected with an electronic security system. The lighting must've made it malfunction!" We were trapped inside.
"The windows?" Mitch asked.
"Locked. Didn't you notice last night that there's metal screens on them? Those things are impossible to get through!" I was frustrated. We were all gonna die, and there was nothing we could do to prevent it.
"The least we can do is live as normally as we can.." I suggested.
"Until we die." Ty pointed out.
"So, you want to live normally until we're murdered?" Jerome asked bluntly.
"Exactly. Show this murderer that we're not afraid." I confirmed.
"But we are." Mitch frowned.
"We can't show it. Come on, let's go. Mitch, can you throw that damn garbage in the compactor?" I asked, pointing at a bag of trash that indeed smelled.
"Yeah, sure." He lifted it and left the room. Ty, Jerome and I sat down on a couch.
-Mitch P.O.V:-
So, we're supposed to live normally, and the first thing I have to do is take out the trash? I sighed. How did I even operate this fancy thing? It was kind of high-tech. I guess you put the trash on the metal grates, and pull the lever, and a big metal plate comes down and pushes the garbage through the grate into the bin below. Pretty cool. I was about to pull the lever when I heard a sickeningly familiar voice.
"BajanCanadian.. You belong on that compacter, you being a piece of trash after all." I felt him punch me in the stomach, knocking the ind out of me, and I was pushed onto the metal grates.
"N-no!" I managed to choke out, trying to regain my breath.
"Sorry, but no exceptions. It's not like I can recycle trash." He laughed, putting up the guard on the edge of the grates, trapping me inside. He pulled the lever and left, and the plate began a slow descent towards me.
"Help!" I screamed. I put my hands up against the plate, trying to stop it, but it was no use.
Jerome, Ty and Adam ran into the room as the plate came in contact with my skin. I looked at them helplessly, and Adam did what I expected he would. He tried to shut it off, but it was too late.
-Adam P.O.V-
Mitch's eyes will haunt me forever.
He screamed as his ribs broke first, showing clearly through the skin, protruding from his flesh in some places. We covered our ears as he screamed in pure terror and pain, and nothing could shield our ears from the constant cracking and shattering of bones. He looked at me with red, swollen eyes as the plate began to press onto his head. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you." I whispered, remembering Mitch's doubts about staying here in the first place. He closed his eyes, and the plate passed to breaking point, crushing Mitch's skull, splattering blood and brain matter over the grates, some of it falling to the floor. The plate relentlessly pressed the remains of Mitch through the grate, and the bin below caught it all.
A/N: So yeah.. Another piece from my disturbed mind. Enjoy!
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