A World of Trouble

A small incident which leads to deadly consequences for a group of four friends.

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2. Wolf's Lair

Not a word was said by anyone within the van as it moved along the innermost alleys. The two companions seemed to have regained consciousness but were restrained, their hands and feet tied up with a gag in each of their mouth. Both of the companions struggled, shaking in their spot and trying to understand their surroundings, what was happening to them. They realized they had been kidnapped, and in front of them sat the same man who killed their friend a little while ago, with that same evil grin that he had on before. His men sat at parallel sides of the van, while the scarred man’s partner sat right next to him. There was pin-drop silence within the van, and only the rocking of the van could be heard alongside the road. Finally, after a little while, the van came to a stop. Everybody got out of the van, including the companions who were being held by the scarred man’s men. The passageway led to a warehouse, and alongside the passageway was a large fenced area which seemed to be inhabited by an army of dogs, all who were looking at the companions as if it was dinnertime, growling and snarling at them. Finally, they entered the warehouse. It was a very large, empty warehouse which seemed almost haunted. There was just something about it which felt not right.

The men tossed the companions on the floor in the center. Their gag was removed, and they were propped up against a wall. The light coming from the lamp hovering over them stung their eyes. The scarred man approached the companions, almost towering over them. “Allow me to introduce myself” said the scarred man. “I am Scar, and my younger brother here, who you call a “chump”, is Johnny” said Scar. The scarred man further approached the two of them, kneeling down to their level and put his hand on one of the companions head, almost as if he was petting him. “And you are?” said Scar. The companion shot out a stream of spit from his mouth on Scar’s face. “You’re still a chump, chump!” yelled the companion. The companion was looking almost hysterical, as if he had lost his mind.

Scar sat there, staring in silence as he wiped the spit off his face with the sleeve of his arm. Scar got up and proceeded to walk towards one of his men. “It’s best you let us go, we have connections you know. You think you’ll get away with this?” said the other. Scar said nothing as he took one of his men’s machetes, and proceeded back towards the same man who spat on his face. The companions were getting nervous as he approached them, beads of sweat dripping from their foreheads. Scar grabbed hold of the man’s hair who spat on his face, and without thinking, shoved the machete in his mouth and sliced his tongue off in a matter of seconds as his screams echoed throughout the warehouse. The tongue fell on the floor like it was a slab of meat, almost alive. The screams continued, the blood flowing through, and the tears rolling down his cheeks while the other companion sat terrified for his own life. As Scar wiped the blood on the machete with his cloth, Scar smirked, “Now you won’t be spitting on anyone” said Scar. Scar handed over the machete over to Johnny, “Do whatever you want with them and then send to the backroom” said Scar. Johnny had a big smile on his face, “My pleasure” said Johnny. “And find out the whereabouts of the one who escaped. Get in touch with him” said Scar, leaving his brother in charge.

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