(OxBlood) (Asking Alexandria)

2: Amputee

He was carried out behind the barn to a plain metallic building. It was fairly large with a wide double door across the front covered in chains and heavy padlocks. The inside of the building was full of disturbing sights. There were viles of blood stacked like perfume bottles on shelves along every wall, containers and jars full of hearts, livers, brains, and other bloody assorted parts. There were bodies hanging upside down from the ceiling, untouched aside from stab wounds and various other lacerations. There were pools of blood underneath each of these bodies, towels and various cloth scraps scattered around.

"What's going on?" He was quickly pulled to the back of the room and strapped to a wooden chair with leather belts. His eyes opened wide in terror.

"Shhh..." Ben held his chin in his hands as he kicked and struggled to no avail. "Just listen and keep your mouth shut."

Danny cracked his knuckles and kneeled before him with a glint of something undefinable in his eyes. "You really aren't from around these parts, are you, kid? Let me give you a run down: we run a black market of sorts. The city's full of deadbeat lowlife gangster scumbags, right? And what do these lowlifes do for a living? They fight, shoot each other, and steal shit from pretty boys like you. So what happens when a knucklehead gets himself stabbed or shot? He's got to go to the hospital, see a doctor. And what's the doc gonna say when he sees who he's treating? He's not gonna say anything at first. But when this shitbag ends up in jail, we'll know what happened. So you've been stabbed," he poked at his chest hard, "And you can't afford to go to jail, so whatcha gonna do?" He waited for a response, his head cocked to the side.

"I...uhm..." He was cut off as Danny gripped his jaw roughly.

"I'll tell you what you're gonna do, you're gonna run to people like us. For the right price, we'll stitch you up and send you on your way with no trouble. Run your mouth," he pointed up to the bodies hanging from the ceiling, "And that'll be you and all of your deadbeat friends. We've got no business with traitors and back stabbers." He released his hold on his jaw slightly. "Say, what's your name, boy?"

"My name's Denis." He stuttered as he spoke.

"Denis." He let the name roll off of his tongue. "Well Denis, I say it's a crying shame, but I think this is where we'll part ways." He snapped his fingers, James coming to him. "Let's show the lad the exit please."

James nodded, pulling a shiny and glinting knife from the counter behind him.

Danny stepped back, allowing James to stand in his place. He scoffed. "What a shame, you look so young."

Denis looked around to all of the faces in the room, horror coursing through his veins. And to think that just the night before he'd had a few beers at his apartment with some friends. They'd carried on and stayed up until the sun rose, just like any other normal Friday night. "I...I don't understand..."

Danny laughed. "Well I've done told you everything. Did you really think that I was going to let you get away?"

James held the cold metal to Denis' throat, placing his aim carefully.

"I won't be any bother, I promise, please..." He pleaded sincerely, making it clear in his voice.

"You know, that's what they all say. You really think that I don't know how this game works by now?" Danny sneered.

"Please, please..." His voice was barely a whisper, the desperation catching in his throat.

"Let him go." Ben stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Denis.

"What?" Danny turned to him, daring him to speak.

"Look at him, do you really think that he's got any reason to get himself into trouble? Those damn shoes look like they've never even touched the ground, much less ever gotten into a scuffle. Let him go." He turned to Danny and crossed his arms.