I'm on your side

Chapter 2

      "No...no. Let me go!" George screamed, his tied wrists flailing within the rope. He jittered and shaked hard as he stared into the prying eyes of Schlatt. Next to him was Techno, and in the clasp of his hand was a black briefcase. What the fuck was inside of that? Why did they both have a villainous smirk plastered onto their face. What was to happen to George? 

   The two men stood tall like roman statues in the night, their large bodies a vast contrast too little George in the metal chair, that stung against his cold figure. George was in denial, and had no sense of structure for the events that began to unfold before his eyes. The sheer terror he felt had diminished within him, and it was washed over with the thought of: How could this happen once again? Dream had killed Techno, supposedly. How is he alive, standing here, gearing up for the terrorizing of a man who has done nothing? 

    "George. What an unpleasant surprise." Schlatt paused, and began to step closer to George. He grimaced. "Or, it's not much of a surprise, considering it was quite the easy task getting you here. Perhaps your lover boy isn't too protective, hm?" He bickered, spitting towards the left of George. 

   "What the hell? Somebody help, please! Dream...please...oh no..." George whimpered, his breath a fuzz of desperation and somber. Techno walked now, so he was level with Schlatt. He said nothing, but didn't need to.His presence was enough to tell what was going to happen. Every sound they made echoed throughout the room, giving George a sense that there was no escape. He was bound here, on Dreams behalf. But he didn't want to accept that.

   "Let's skip the talking, shall we?" Schlatt said, aiming his head toward the briefcase. "This'll be a breeze, really."

   George looked up with teary eyes at Schlatt as he leaned down and chucked his chin. He brought it up viciously with a tug, causing George to cringe. 

   "I just want to hurt you so goddamn bad that when I drop your mutilated body on the side of Dream's house, I'll be able to hear his scream from miles away. You understand, right?" Schlatt whispered. George looked down, a tear glistening in his eyes. The bones of his weak body clattered like the pangs of an xylophone.

   But he had to stop. His voice hitched as Schlatt knocked the chair George was seating in over, and George fell toward the ground, the weight of himself all on his restrained hands. He heard the metal clasp of a lock, and the click of a briefcase being opened. The floor was damp, giving his disheveled tee shirt an instant soak of cold, unidentified fluid. The men in front of him were wealthy, why was he in somewhere so run down? Is it so Dream will never be able to find George before his body is completely torn apart? It must be.

   George stared at the ceiling, as he heard something clap against the floor, loud and obnoxious. It sounded like it would cause immense pain. Through gritted teeth George mumbled: "Do...Do anything you want. Just don't hurt Dream." His jaw ached with the little words he spoke. The Hammer last night did great damage on his face. 

   "Aw, protecting your boyfriend, I see. How cute, but not practical. Dream will be dead in a matter of days. Let's just say I'm using you as leverage." Schlatt paused. "Techno, do it now. I can't stand staring at him so...unscathed."

   George swallowed, preparing himself for what was to come. This was fate, and was to happen no matter what he pleads. Schlatt and Techno are disgusting villains, who rush at the chance to dismiss a person, no matter how innocent. George felt as if he was going to throw up. The lack of food was growing on him like a vicious tree.

   He saw the silhouette of Techno for one quick second, before his eyes winced and shut in pain. Techno slashed him over and over with a shovel. A shovel, of all things. In the face, arms, shoulders. Anything to grant him a way to escape had been broken. Shattered into millions of pieces were bones inside his body. He could not move. 

   "You should thank me, George. This will numb your body for what will come yet." Techno said, grinning. He was enjoying this. He always did. That's what makes him terrible. 

   "Please....s....stop...." George managed to choke out, blood spewing from his mouth. He knew those words meant nothing though. They were only a sheer rhythm in the cursed melody that played between the mens heads that continued to hurt him. 

   Apparently it was Schlatt's turn now. His large footsteps echoed against the dirty floor, and something metal clinked against the floor, causing a gut wrenching noise. 

   George wanted-no, he needed Dream. He didn't want to admit it, but he was desperate. He needed to be in the clasp of Dream's arms, nuzzled within his chest, as they watch a scary movie. Perhaps now he was in the scary movie. Was there a clone of himself, much happier, in peace? His vulnerability pulled on him as if he were a puppet. 

   George whimpered as Schlatt flipped a butcher knife between his hands nonchalantly. What was he going to do with that? 

   "Hold still, Georgie." Schlatt muttered, as he took the butcher knife and slammed it into George's left achilleas tendon. Blood poured out as if it were an a major artery, and George couldn't help but muster out a rancid scream, which caused Techno to start to chuckle out loud. There was no happiness in his voice. Only disgusting malice.

   But Schlatt didn't stop there. Georges flesh and blood was covering Schlatt's tee shirt, but he acted as if it wasn't there. George squirmed, and attempted to move away from the waving weapon. The chair fell over to the side, and Schlatt frowned, as he watched George clumsily whine and try to escape. He could barely say a word anymore. Schlatt didn't feel any sympathy, and slashed Georges right achilleas. 

   George began to cough, and a dry heave welcomed his throat. His mouth gagged and he began to vomit out of sheer terror. Nothing was arising from his mouth, that is. 

   What is he going to do?