Paint it Another Colour

Chapter 11

Matthew couldn't remember much, just going to Francis' flat, finding him vanished, and then... well after that there was nothing. He briefly remembered something about a fight of sorts, something about James, his 2p, and then this dark room. He hoped it wasn't a large part of his life there, and that he'd forgotten a lot, like Viktor had, but something told him it wasn't that much. He'd probably been out cold for the majority of it if James was involved.

He couldn't really see anything, it was rather gloomy and his glasses had mysteriously vanished, and he hadn't tried to move much, maybe there was something in here, maybe they were watching him, and he didn't want them to watch him struggle. That would be frustrating, so instad he sat still, against the wall, staring into the gloom. Anyway, he was too busy feeling sorry for himself to move really, and he was well aware of the chain from his ankle to the wall.

What seemed like far off in the distance, a rectangular shaped beam of light appeared, a shadow in the middle of it, accompanied by the squeaking of a door and then it vanished. The footsteps of the shadow clicked across the floor, coming closer to where he was with each passing second.

"So, how's the new life treating you eh?"

Matthew didn't answer. There was a pause then a sigh.

"Answer me when I speak to you." James roughly grabbed his chin and slammed his head into the wall.

Matthew coughed but still didn't say anything. He refused. Some might've called it stupidity.

"Whatever." James' shadow moved away a little. "I didn't come here for small talk. You've moved the meeting rooms haven't you?"

Matthew's breath caught in his throat. Of course that would be what they were looking for. The other times it had probably just been luck and a couple of odd, helpful words from Viktor. That way, they'd know where everyone was. It would be game over before anything had begun!

After they'd come back, clearly their bosses had freaked out a little and the meeting rooms had changed to unheard of places in obscure areas. Even they didn't know where they were now. Not really anyway. All they did was turn up at the country, arrive at the hotel, and the next morning someone would be outside to pick them all up.

"So, what I've come to ask is where they are now." James grabbed the hair on his head and yanked him up so his feet were only just brushing the floor. "And you're going to tell me."

Matthew shook his head. It wasn't that he didn't want to say. He still had no idea.

James' eyes narrowed and he punched him in the stomach, hard. Matthew spluttered and gasped at whatever air he could get as he was dropped back to the floor. He was so busy trying to breath, he let his head hit the concrete floor, pain exploding through his skull. His hands went up to grab at his head, and as he did so, a kick lifted him up slightly from the ground and threw him into the wall behind him.

"I said, where are they?" James lifted him by his hair again, just a bit off the floor this time.

Matthew tried for a weak grin.

"Pathetic" James sighed, dropping him and wandering away a little. "I'd like you to know, we have Francis." Matthew froze and weakly pulled himself up. "And the Vargas siblings."

"I don't know where they are" he choked, surprised at the thin, raspy sound of his own voice. "We... we've never been told."

"Yet you still manage to get there every month?" James picked up his hockey stick that Matthew had somehow failed to spot, still with it's barbed wire wrapped around the end of it. "It's a bad excuse if you ask me."

"Honestly, we..." Matthew started, but trailed off as James rested the stick against his throat, one of the barbs piercing the skin.

"This could be so much easier you know" James said, pressing it harder, drawing more blood. "Why are you forcing me to resolve to violence?"

"I..." Matthew coughed and stopped. He could barely breath let alone talk, and the wire was producing more blood than he was happy with. Not that he was happy with any.

James rolled his eyes and took the stick away. "There, now talk."

"We don't know" he said then glanced up at his disbelieving counterpart. "We don't."

For a second, James just stood there looking unimpressed. Then he swung the stick, cutting open Matthew's side and punched his jaw. "Don't lie to me 1p filth." He spat at him and hit him round the head with the stick. "I'll leave you to think about where the hell they are, coz I know you know."

He balanced the stick across his shoulders and vanished out of the door, the light appearing again for a split second before vanishing again. Raised voices were heard outside along with what sounded like blows being thrown before the people clearly moved out of the area or shut up and everything went quiet.

Matthew curled up around the wound on his side, one hand resting over his bloodied hair. It was okay, really, it was. Everything would be fine. Clearly they still needed him, so they weren't going to kill him. He could deal with the pain, and they weren't going to kill him, but inside he knew that really, that wad just wishful thinking.

Hello!! It feels like I haven't updated in ages, so, I RETURN!!!!! I have no telling of time passing, so have no idea how long it's been ^-^ I apologise greatly for the terrible chapter, I'm ultra busy right now with college applications Christmas presents and evil online maths homework that refuses to admit that 360-65 is 295 T-T. I'm not going to make it!!!!!!!!

But that's all the in-between stuff. Till next week, see you ^-^

MiddleEarth4eva