Kiss the Rain [Discontinued]

Chapter Fourteen

THURSDAY, WILL WOKE UP TO A PILE OF BRICKS DROPPED ON HIS FACE.

And it was not even the bricks that woke him. He just happened to wake up to find himself chained to the floor with bruises all over his arms and legs (Will did not recall being hit the previous night) , looking around frantically and wondering silently with a screaming voice in his mind where he was, when a man in his early thirties just barged in through the door, holding a large, metal, and heavy-looking bucket which, as Will had discovered the hard way, had been full of red, hard, and very very very very painful bricks. Lots of them. 

Apparently, according to the man in his early thirties, he had been tasked to throw bricks all over Will's body every few hours just to see if he woke up. That explained the bruises all over his limbs, and the new ones on his face that he had painfully earned just that morning. 

The man left the room, to Will's disappointment since he was the only one he could talk to, to explain to their leader that Will had woken up. That left Will with no choice but to be bored for the next few hours. A few hours later, he was so bored and pained, emotionally and physically, that he imprinted the structure of his prison cell which was a big room with a mattress-less bed with ripped bed sheets. The burnt sienna wall paper paint-thing that had started turning beige, was coming off the wall in thin strips. Kind of like ripped paper. Will looked down to see his black shoes still on his feet, and turned his attention to the floor underneath them. The floor was made of cement and was gray. Thin crack lines that scurried away hastily gave proof that the floor was strong enough to have at least seven grown men and a large pile of bricks without it falling apart, and weak enough to have seven grown men and a ton of bricks thrown into the floor stomping and wailing like babies with it falling apart. 

Will had a weird image of seven grown but small men crying and sobbing while wearing diapers, stomping their feet on the floor as the roof suddenly collapses and you can no longer hear any voices...

Will shuddered. He should write a novel with that scene in his novel. Will shook his head and craned his neck to his left to see a small window. A faint light shimmered down just at the right angle to almost make Will blind. He turned away quickly and took his attention to the chains on his arms and legs. His back was leaning on a big cemented post and both his arms and legs were chained to the floor, so he could not stand up straight. 

Hours passed by, and Will kept looking at the wooden door, half-expecting for the man to come in and throw bricks at him. He sighed and instead tried to recall what happened the night when they brought him in. He was screaming and thrashing in a way that would have made him embarassed if he was not in that sort of situation. In the end, they just sort of left him on the floor right after they brought him in. 

Which was rather rude, Will thought, if you ask me.

The gang members, seven of them, as Will counted as soon as he sat himself up, sort of huddled into the corner while bending over a table. Will was still shocked by how hard they had gripped him, after all, he hated being touched. He was still afraid of what they would do to him, but, unlike the leader's uncle, they seemed to be straight, so they would probably not do anything sexual to him. The memory still pained him. 

The way the man's uncle had touched him seductively in parts no straight man would do and how he just forced his... his thing into Will....

Will closed his eyes and tried hard not to cry. That memory was the worst. He was only so lucky that the police had found him and he was rescued, but he was left with a big scar. And now, the same gang has kidnapped him again. Will was glad the leader's uncle was in prison. Too bad the other gang members had escaped before being arrested.

"Hey, you there!" a heavy and booming voice interrupted his thoughts.

Will jerked his head up to see the men looming over him. "Yes?"

The leader glanced to his comrade then turned back to Will, "We need you to do something."

Apparently, they needed Will to write a message to his aunt and uncle to convince them that Will was, in fact, kidnapped.

They didn't have to do that, though, Will thought, I'm a very obedient boy. I wouldn't just disappear. One hour of "missing" and they'd go straight to the police station.

Will read over their message and tried hard not to roll his eyes. These men were pathetic. And they didn't torture him. They already knew about Will's past from the last time he got kidnapped. So, Will wrote his message, the men rolled their eyes, wrote again, and made Will write down his home address. He caught a glimpse of the first sentence of the men's new message, and this time he really did roll his eyes. Liars. 

After calling Will names, the men had dumped Will into the room he was now. 

They could've just, I don't know, be a little less pathetic with that message? Will thought as he craned his neck to the window to try to see how long he would last from the light. He lasted three seconds. 

The door slammed open and in came the man, again, with a bucket of bricks. He threw them at him, and that's when Will wished he was still asleep. Blood spilled everywhere. And the pain was unbearable. A brick hit his head and his vision went foggy. He felt something wet run down his scalp, and he saw the color red before he blacked out. 

Friday, Will woke up to the taste of something metallic and the sensation of something touching his sides. He jerked away and turned to see one of the men touching him. Will widened his eyes and pushed him away with his torso. He moved away a little bit, but just enough to make him stop touching him. 

The man laughed and licked his lips.

Will widened his eyes and cursed internally. I was wrong. Not all of them were straight after all.

He heard a chuckle from the door and Will turned to see the gang leader leaning on the door frame along with the man who threw bricks at his face. 

"That is enough for now. He'll satisfy your lust later." The leader turned to Will, "Wonderful afternoon, isn't? Nearing the night. I bet you liked that, huh? Remember how my uncle did that to you? Hm? Not a good memory, huh?"

Anger welled up inside him and Will found himself throwing curses at the men. He insulted them with the worst possible language imaginable. The leader scrunched his forehead and narrowed his eyes, "Tough one, ey? We'll see about that." He gestured to the two men, and they nodded. They started walking towards Will, and he found out what pain really felt like.

They punched and kicked him everywhere, mostly at the places the bricks hit him the day before. The blows kept coming. They did not stop. They. Did. Not. Stop. 

Punch. Kick. Kick. Punch. Kick. Kick. Kick. Punch. Punch. Kick. Punch. Punch. Punch.

"Alright, boys, that's enough." The leader announced. They followed his orders.

Will's head was bent at that point. The pain stayed there. He was sore. He was scared. He wanted to be free. 

He felt someone touched his chin, and he jerked back, but the hand gripped his chin hard and put his head up. It was the man he saw when Will woke up. Will widened his eyes and tried hard to pull away and back away from the man, but he could not. 

Will was scared. He was hiding his fear all this time. He knew what this man could do to him. He wanted his friends. Evan, Janet, Allie, Aila, and even Alec, the big guy. 

"Will!" he heard Evan shout.

Will almost laughed humorlessly. He missed them so much, he was actually hallucinating about them.

Or was he?