If not for the gag over his mouth, Andy’s screams could shatter glass. Walter inhales proudly like Andy’s terrified noisemaking is the scent of gourmet cooking.
Albert just stares ahead. His eyes open, then shut, and open again. Every movement on the inside is an uphill struggle for his body to keep him alive. Coupled with the pins and needles sensation that accompanies his remaining still for so long and it won’t be long before Albert is dead.
“I can’t…remember,” Albert breaths. “I…can’t…move at all.” These words gain no sympathy from the other four men in the room.
“It wasn’t easy to tie you up like that,” one of the other voices laughs.
“I can’t…” Albert lets his chin smack into his chest from exhaustion. The black hood falls back down over his face.
“You can’t…what, Albert?” Walter asks rhetorically. “Be a hero? Little Andy told me about how you said you’d protect him. About how I’m the boogieman. Well Andy…” Walter turns to the little boy still bound and crying in his mothers lap, “…Al was wrong.”
Walter moves in closer to Andy’s face. In Andy’s field of vision Walters wrinkled old white face is like that of a retired clown that no one would hire. Walters gives Andy a crooked smile of rotting yellow teeth.
“I’m not the boogieman,” Walter whispers to the boy, “I’m much, much worse… let me show you.”
Walter stands up straight from facing Andy and walks to the table behind the firing squad. There on the table lay the instruments of a sadist’s wet dream. Knifes of every size, two whips, one has rusted nails on the end, cuffs, straps, a handheld chainsaw, a screw driver, three axes of varying sizes, sharpened steaks and operating utensils of every kind as well. There is even a spear, which looks like a silver pool cue. The gunmen gave each other uneasy stares. Nobody wants to see this. Walter reaches for the last thing any one of the three, armed men expected: a small, ordinary, silver tee-spoon.
“You, hold the girl.” Walter demands of Raptor who promptly sighs and then places his shotgun on the table. Raptor holds the girls head back like he’s about to wash her hair whether she likes it or not. The girl can’t move from the restraints and the muscular arms around her small neck.
“You, make him watch this.” Walter gestures to a second gunman. The second gunman, Joe, hesitates.
“Come on boss, what’re going to do?” Joe says trying to sound more tough than concerned.
“JUST PULL HIS FUCKING HOOD UP AND MAKE HIM WATCH THIS YOU STUPID FUCK!” Walter yells furiously before breathing heavily. Joe moves to the other side of the chair, opposite the girl and her son. Walter places his left hand under the neck and pins Andy’s head against his mothers’ chest. Joe walks to Albert and lifts his hood up. Joe puts his shotgun in his right hand and grips Albert under the chin with his left. He shakes Albert awake and lifts his head so that the four people in front of him can be seen. The image of the girl, Andy, the black gunman, Walter and the Native gunman watching from behind them is very blurry. Albert gives no resistance what so ever unless making no effort to hold his own head up counts. Joe notices Albert is resting the weight of his head in Joe’s hand. Joe’s arm starts to get tired.
Raptor watches as Walter brings the small silver spoon close to Andy’s face. Tearful and fearful eyes of the mother look right into Raptors eyes. Raptor begins to feel sick at what is about to happen. He closes his eyes tight like a child at a scary movie.
Behind Raptor stands the one they call Tala. His long flowing black hair brushes over his shoulders as he lowers his head as though in prayer. Hands together with the shotgun in his right hand pointed straight down between his feet. Tala has butchered many a men and women like they were cattle. But what’s coming will give him no pleasure. Tala doesn’t want to see this either, so he takes in a less disturbing view of jet-black hair dangling towards the floor.
Joe stands with Albert’s chin in his hand. Joe begins to understand why no one was ever with Walter when he “worked.” This child, Andy, is about to go to hell on Earth with the Devil, Walter, as his guide. Joe begins to wonder why it is that Walter is allowed to do what it is that he does. Investigating Mel’s motivation for employing Walter would have to wait. For now Joe, like the others, finds a spot on the wall to focus on.
Walter wants to indulge again. The pleasure he feels at the sight of fear in Andy’s eyes… just an appetizer. Walter thinks about how digging out Andy’s eyes will make him feel alive. It will also make his anger go away.
“Enjoy looking at your hero Andy.” Walter slobbers angrily. “Cause it’s the last thing your going to see boy.”
Albert inhaled a slow drawl of breath that took his last bit of strength. Before Walter looked away from Albert and back to Andy Albert catches a scent.
This… hand… Albert thinks as he slowly opens his mouth.
No comments:
Post a Comment