Murder On 24th Street

Chapter four: Rest in peace, Andrew

"What the fuck did you do?!?!"

"What do you mean?"

"'What do I mean?' I'm talking about acting on your own accord without me even being in the room! I told you to watch him and that was that. Not leave evidence for our imprisonment." Miles stares him down his fist clenched, white as a sheet. He scoffs and walks to the door slamming it. With a thud Mark groans as he puts the chair back on its' feet making Andrew look at him.

"Please, don't kill me!" Andrews' breathe stops in its' tracks as he begins to cry, trembling. Tears stream down his face as he looks at him with desperation in his voice.

"Please..."

"Why would I do that? You're a toy, someone we can play with. We don't want the fun to be over just yet, do we?" Mark grazed his thumb over Andrews' cheek with a devious smirk. Eyeing him close, blood rushing through his body like a cheetah chasing its' meal.

After Miles had stormed out of the room he rushed to his room taking out a razor and cloth going back to the basement. His body falls off the cliff of a high waterfall sinking deep into the ocean, colored red like blood. Once he enters he pushes Mark to the side and cuts Andrews' cheek, the blood dripping down his cheek. He flicks his wrist cutting him more before dabbing the blood with the cloth. He pants as his hearts races like a thousand suns. Mark stands beside him giving him room to do his thing.

"Woah, dude! Chill!" Mark looks at him, his eyes drooping. Miles keeps cutting Andrew not stopping till he passes out from the fear.

"I've decided what to do with him."

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"Death by a thousand cuts. Come on! Grab a knife and join me!"

"Why are you doing this instead of something else?" Miles stops in his tracks and finds himself remembering his mother's death. He remembers how it feels to see her die and his fight to remember her ever since.

"Because... he isn't worth it."

"Worth what?"

"That doesn't matter! Now do what I told you and join me in killing this guy!" Miles' heart races as his breath is shallow and rapid. His vision goes from near perfect to very blurry and distorted. His hands shake making the cuts look jagged and lightning bolt like.

Mark leaves the room as he was told and goes to grab a knife. He is flooded with worry and fear over what has become of his friend. His hands shake as he grabs the biggest knife he can walking his way back to the room. Before he enters he thinks on what just happened and how Miles went through a change of emotion and what's going through his mind. He fears he might do this again since he clearly shown he can do this. The door opens which leads Miles to stop and stare at Mark who possesses an aura of anxiety.

"Are you ready?" Mark nods to Miles' question and walks up to Andrew who sits there shaking and sobbing. He adds another cut to his body and feels the blood pump through his body leaving him with a little high as he adds more, Miles joining in.

"Stop!!! Please!!"

Several hours pass, Miles and Mark have brought Andrew Smith to deaths' door. They look at their hands covered in dry and fresh blood looking back up to see the bloody and cut up body of Andrew. His arms and legs were amputated, placed beside him. His head was hanging off by a tendon, blood oozing out. His cuts bled slowly and his skin was cut down to the bone, his muscle and tissue visible. They hold their breath as the stench of death enters the room. The faint sounds of his screams still ring in their ears as the realization of what happened hits them. Mark runs to the corner of the room to puke as Miles cries, on his knees, remembering how his mother died.