DARK nights 2 part 2 (standard:Psychological fiction, 884 words) [2/2] show all parts
Author: Zeth	Added: Oct 09 2007	Views/Reads: 2680/1905	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The disturbing end.

DARK nights 2 part 2. 

.zETH.© 

Sam stormed out of the house, but quickly realized he would get many
stares from onlookers, “Is that spray paint? Who wrote on his 
forehead?” and then they would laugh at him. He looked at his arms. His 
tan arms now a ghastly red. His shins, a blackish tint, and his face; a 
bluish color; and the black permanent marker. He was replacing the 
anger with sham. He left the door unlocked when his mother left. Why 
didn't he fight? Why am I such a loser? He ran inside and put on a 
black hoodie, a ski mask, and some darker blue jeans. He looked like a 
killer or a burglar. Although it didn't bother him. He left the house 
again being cool and calm. He had brought $93. 

He walked down the road a mile or so until he got to Springfield flea
market. He pulled on the brass handle opening the walnut door releasing 
cool air and the smell of dust, old wood, and knick knacks. As soon as 
Sam opened the door people stared at him. He waved and continued 
looking at the things at the store. A man in a red vest stepped up to 
Sam. 

“Sir, Exactly why are you dressed in a hoodie and a ski mask?” the man
asked puzzled. 

“Oh, it is for a play me and a few of my friends are doing, and I was
looking for a certain prop,” Sam lied. 

Oh”, the man said, feeling a bit more relaxed, “what is it that you
need?” 

“Hand cuffs.” 

“We only got one pair, and they have no keys, your not hooking anyone in
them are you”, he man asked. 

“Never would I”. 

“Okay, here you go, these are 29.99”. 

Sam took the hand cuffs and walked down the rode a little bit when he
saw it. Forrest Ave. He followed it until he saw the house 2346. He 
walked up too the house and silently crept through the door. No one was 
home. He went through the rooms looking at every door. Then there was a 
room with a DO NOT CROSS sign on the front. He opened the door to find 
the bully sleeping. He must be the only one home, thought Sam. 

Carefully, Sam handcuffed the bully to the bed, and then he tied his
feet to the foot of the bed. He looked around for something hard. He 
found a big stick that he had probably used for an army game or 
something. He grasped it firmly in both hands and, with all his force, 
swung it at the bully's middle. The bully tried to open his eyes but 
they were super glued shut. He tried to scream but he was gagged by a 
pair of socks. Fear was in his muffled scream. Fear was in his eyes, 
although no one could see them. 

“Hello bully, want to play a game”, said Sam, off of his favorite
movies, Saw®, “here is what you need to do. Not scream, screaming is 
regular behavior for someone, and I HATE regular.” 

A whimpering sound came from the mouth of butch, the bully (isn't that a
good bullying name? I thought so). He tried to break free of the 
handcuffs but it wouldn't work. 

“I will place the key right here on the floor”, Sam said putting a penny
on the floor, “if you make it without screaming I will award you life. 
But...if you scream, I will kill you slowly. Is that clear?” 

Butch nodded. Sam had come this far without any problems, but something
was sure to happen. “Okay, are you hungry?” 

Butch shook his head. 

“Good.” 



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