Since bringing Andy up to one of the old rooms for some “privacy,” Walter at first did nothing more than verbally abuse the child. A blessing by comparison, but to Walter, verbal abuse is like foreplay. The room they are in looks like it used to be a staff room of some kind. It is very large and overlooks the rest of the warehouse through several rectangular windows that line the entire room. In fact, if Walter was interested he could look down and see what the three gunmen are doing to Andy’s mother. Or he would see something else entirely. But that doesn’t interest Walter. Since bringing Andy into the room Walter has clubbed his kneecaps with a small stick of wood and smacked him several times in the face.
“You remind me of me when I was your age Andy,” Walter states. “Except for the brown hair. I was a skinny little runt too.”
Andy didn’t know where this was going and he didn’t care. Fear kind of takes away ones willingness to figure things out.
“See this spoon Andy?” Walter gestures from standing across the room, “It doesn’t know what cereal feels like”
Andy sits with his knees in his chest and sobs at the thought of what that could mean. Now Andy could figure that out.
“Nice pajama’s Andy, hope they don’t stain,” Walter teases as turns away towards a sink and cleans the spoon with a towel.
“So! Think the boys will leave anything left of your mother? Mother! You know I had a mother once. She wanted to have me committed after what I did to the cute little kitten she bought me. You see, Daddy was trying to train me to follow in his footsteps. Mommy didn’t like that. She tried to nurture the softer side of me.”
Walter turns around and looks at Andy. Andy’s face is tucked into his arms.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you Andy.”
Andy doesn’t look or move.
“LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”
Andy’s head shot up so fast he hit his head on the wall behind him.
“Ow!” Andy says rubbing the back of his dome.
“Careful, Andy! You should really respect your elders. There are lessons we can teach the generations to come. And the lesson I leave for your generation is…”
Walter crosses the floor and bends down holding the spoon at Andy’s face. Walters grabs Andy by his hair and pins his head to the wall.
“… Some people don’t have a softer side. In fact, I feed off of the hope of you people. I was on death row, you know? But people cried that I was misunderstood. There is still hope for me. Well! This is what I’m doing with hope… with innocence. I’m going to take this spoon and dig out your face with all the sympathy my bitch of a mother gave to me. As I sent her sailing off the balcony of a hotel in Vegas I breathed in her screams. Screams like sweet music. Oh, how I have tried to recreate that perfect soundtrack. Scream for me Andy!”
A shotgun blast echo’s from behind Andy.
Walter lets go of Andy, stands up and back a few steps.
“Geez! I don’t know why, but that scared the crap out of me.” Walter confesses. “Sounds like your mom just got her left tit blown off.”
* * * * *
Melvin Maroni sits in a very elegant and newly finished office. He looks up from the diamonds on his desk at the sound of the shotgun blast.
“Done fucking her already boys?” Mel says to himself. “It’s only been five minutes.”
Mel goes back to jewels on his desk.
“Fucking minute men!”
* * * * *
Andy gives a look of wonderment and fear from the blast. Walter lets a look of puzzlement slip.
Albert’s already dead. What could they be shooting at? There is only the mom… Walter thinks.
Another loud shotgun blast is heard.
“Oh, there goes the right one.” Walters laughs again.
Andy continues to cry and cowards against the wall overlooking the warehouse, Still, Andy is hugging his knees against his chest. Walter stands over Andy holding the spoon in about as threatening a manner as one could hold a spoon. Walter kneels back down on his left leg and grabs Andy by his sweaty hair. Walter holds the spoon close to Andy’s left eye. Andy’s head jerks left and right, with fearful force but does not move enough to avoid what’s coming. Andy needs a miracle. Another shotgun blast is heard but Walter doesn’t even acknowledge it at all.
“Now this is going to happen Andy whether you want it to or not.” Walter says in a cold low voice that is less and less like his usually old man tone.
The scoop of the spoon is so close to Andy’s terrified left eye that Walter is smiling evil upon the reflection of the spoon that now appears across Andy’s eyeball. The edge of the spoon presses slowly and painfully in that small space to the left side of Andy’s left eyeball. Andy’s hands grab Walters forearm and he tries to stop the spoon. His fingers dig into Walters skin but Walter doesn’t slow at all. Andy bites his bottom lip and lets out moan of overwhelming discomfort. Andy tries desperately to keep himself from screaming. Walter pushes the spoon between Andy’s right eye and its’ socket.
“Come on Andy. SCREAM FOR MEEEEE!”
Walter twists the spoon a little but just enough to send a surge of pain coursing though Andy’s little mind. Andy can’t hold it back anymore.
“eeeeeEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” Andy’s painful song echoes into all corners of the building.
Walter takes his hand off the spoon and just stares at Andy. Little Andy has a single tear of blood coming out from underneath the spoon. The spoon rests on its’ side protruding from the right side of Andy’s right eye.
“Please stop! Please stop! I didn’t do anything.” Andy finally speaks to Walter, “Uhh! I want my mommy!”
“Your mommy?” Walters says putting his hand on the spoon, “Your mom is dead. And that was so good that we’re just getting started.”
“NO! PLEASE!” Andy screams aloud again.
Just a moment before Walter was about to press the spoon into Andy’s skull, something happens that stops him yet again. There’s the sound of a lot of glass breaking and Walter’s head, shoulder and back are showered with broken glass. Something thuds onto the table behind him and stops. Walter pulls the spoon out of Andy’s face. Andy has small fragments of glass in his hair too, but the spoon is now a few inches away. Walter is so distracted by this strange happening that he stands straight up to assess the change in his surroundings. Before Walter’s knee’s aligned his legs in the upright position he could see what came crashing through the window over his head. It is a human head. A human head much like the one that belonged to Tony. Walter remembers happily tossing that head about the air in a small apartment just one day ago. But this head had it’s back to Walter and it did not belong to Tony. Walter could tell as he approached the table that the head did not belong to Albert either, the only person, Walter thought, that was dead in the building. Albert’s head is shaved and this head has shaggy black hair. Much like the head gunman, Joe.
Walter places his right hand on the side of the head and spins it like a record almost exactly 180 degrees until the lifeless eyes were looking into his. The face of Joe is staring at Walter. Walter jumps back from the severed head on the table, because what is stranger than a head flying through a window and landing on a table is having that head try to bite you. The lifeless head of Joe on its’ side is looking at Walter with so much hatred in its’ eyes.
“What in the?” Walter says aloud, “What the hell happened down there?”
No comments:
Post a Comment