MASK! DREAMNOTFOUND

8

SONG: Freak, Sub Urban (feat. REI AMI)

GEORGE

Getting the steel of an axe across my head was the most painful experience of my life. All I remember was the small boy in front of me flashing the card that I had chosen to be a picture of a joker.

I awoke with the feeling of my head spinning in pain. The burning sensation making me groan as I rubbed my eyes to fix my vision.

The room around me was all laced in white padding as I was restrained to a wooden chair that was placed in the middle. A large red metal door facing in front of me. The place looked as if it had came straight out of a 1980s horror film.

I had to get out of here, I had to make it back home to kill this son of a bitch.

"Oh George." The voice came on the intercom quietly and echoed in the emptiness. As I got my sight and conscious clear, I pushed and pulled against the rope in agony, my wrists burning from the connection with the heavy rope.

"What do you want? I know what you're apart of!" I yelled towards the door as I pulled at the rope continuously.
"Oh shut up George, do you know how many of us there are? Thousands, thousands coming for your ass." He hissed through the speaker.

"What's your name? Show yourself!" Right as I yelled the door had flung open and slowly entered the boy from before. Multiple of knifes and his axe strapped around him. The stupid grin on his scared face made me what to take one and stab him.

"Hello niño pequeño." He walked slowly towards me, as I now sat quietly in the chair, my death glare expressing how I felt.

"This is ridiculous, where am I? Why the cards?" I asked, and all he did was laugh, loud and devious.
"I call her Rosalba but the darker name for her would be my torture room." He then grabbed my collar, pulling me towards him so that we only a few inches apart.

"You lost the bet George, you pulled the wrong card."
"Not only are you a cheater, you're a psychopath who kills the innocent, not all the rich deserve this!" I spat in his face, showing him that I wasn't afraid of him. For a matter of fact he wasn't scary, nor was he bigger then me.

"You're not innocent hermano, you all deserve it, you all deserve to die because you sit there, you watch as they abuse us all, leave us to rot." He pushed me back into the sturdy wood, walking to the corner of a room and placing various of weapons across the floor.

"The others don't know I do this though, told them I would be a bit late because I was dealing with a personal issue." He laughed, pulling the large scissors into his hand, the multiple of snips echoing as he examined the tool.
"Every time one of you rich assholes lose, I bring them here, into the room where I torture them to death." He gave me a sweet smile before making his way towards me.

Leaning down to run his hands through my hair the dark haired boy lifted a couple of strains, snipping them straight off to then fluff my hair back into place.
"Sharp huh?" He questioned.
"Fuck off." I replied.

"Oh c'mon George, why can't we get along? I think you're lovely, you can learn to love me over the couple of minutes you have left." He gave a light chuckle before sliding the scissors openly down the wall, sharping them in-front of my eyes.