Master Tomlinson

30- Bloodshed

"I believe him." Vince said simply, his eyes not meeting Roy's. The way he slouched his shoulder was overly careless, and I could see that he was on thin ice; struggling to stay on the surface. I understood. Roy's patience is thin and volatile, often blowing up before your very eyes. But Vince must've already knew that, and that confirms that they had been working together long enough to be familiar with one another. To a certain point, anyway. I knew what the turning point was for the slender, sickly man— money. Roy had his own fortune, and Samuel's too; most of it anyway. A bag of pretty pennies for a scumbag like him would be enough to turn against an ally.
Roy's astonished gaze finally broke free from us. It was now directed at the chain-smoking traitor behind him. "Now you're trying to help him? After you so easily betrayed him?" Roy scoffed, laughing maniacally at the thought. Vince turned his embarrassed gaze back to Roy. "That's not what I was implying." That would be enough to consume Roy's mind for awhile. I took the opportunity to make sure Louis was okay.
His desperate breathing was the only thing to be heard, other than the bubbling noise from blood that leaked from his nose into his mouth.  I wiped it with my sleeve as gently as possible and begged him noiselessly to hold on. "I love you.. please.." I peered back at the two, who were now arguing. I had less than a minute left. "Stay with me, I'll figure this out.." I spoke as a mere distraction for him now, my brain was onto something much more important. My observant eyes travelled around, looking for anything to be used as a weapon. I figured that they used a weapon to cause such bruising to his chest, and cringed when I realized that it was solely from Roy's wounded fists. I became frantic now; my eyes darting to every corner of the room for anything that could save us. And then I heard it— the trickling of water, a soft flow that surrounded us. It was flowing through the rusty pipes. It didn't sound like a strong stream, and I noticed that there was a weak part of the structure where water dripped out; forming a pool of water just two feet away from us. Their arguing was cut short after a sickly noise, and I struggled to remain as clueless and scared as before. I wasn't going to go down without a fight, if I could managed to get ahold of the pipe.

When I looked back, I noticed that Vince was now sporting a fresh bloody nose. It was obvious that he underestimated Roy's patience now, as he struggled to keep the thick red flow from leaking onto his beige dress shirt. "Harry," Roy's voice was sweet, but behind it was an impending threat, "move."
I didn't flinch. Roy stood his ground, astonished once again that I had the nerve to defy someone of a different class— all to protect someone of a different class as well.
"You'll have to kill me first," I didn't stutter this time. I didn't have time to. Because when he sensed the slightest bit of resistance, he lunged for me. His one attempt at nicely warning me was already crossing the line, as he shouldn't have had to. I am a peasant to him, despite his lack of ownership over me. That's all I'll ever be to him; a slave.
I made sure to maneuver beside Louis so that Roy's wrath would miss him and follow me. I managed to dodge a punch, and Roy lost it. His black eyes shifted and suddenly he was back in his masochistic world. His familiar rippling growl filled the room, and I couldn't help but cower back. My muscles seized in fear as he cornered me, and I realized that there was no escaping this. His hand attached around my throat, causing me to squeak in pain. He started to crush my flesh between his fingers, a snarl beginning to seep through his clenched teeth. He hurled me against the wall, causing my back to connect with the weak water pipe. My spine screamed at the contact, as I was unable to from the crushing of my throat. "How dare you talk back to me like that!" Roy shouted, his eyes squinting as his snarl deepened. My vision was shaken up from the impact, so I could see him twice. I placed a hand on my head and blinked rapidly. The previous injury to my head wasn't helping my coordination, despite my conscious efforts. I couldn't remember how I got there, all I could think of was how it was my fault; my fault that Louis was dying slowly in that chair. It wasn't until the pain in my spine subsided that I could feel the cool, rusty water from the puddle seeping into my clothing. I struggled to look around me. When I managed to set my eyes upon the broken piece of pipe, I felt myself come to my senses. Roy is going to die. And I'm going to kill him.
I remembered the words spoken just yesterday. A simpler time, when we thought that things would be different. That it would be one simple execution, followed by a lifetime of rainbows. I should've known that my luck has its own way of ruining things for me specifically, and now it's ruined Louis' too. I couldn't move. Despite my attempts, my spine tingled with pain as I strained to get up.
"You can't kill him," Vince urged desperately, he was moving in closer now, ready to intervene. That's when Roy's attention was diverted. The clouds hadn't completely dissipated behind his eyes, and he realized that I was still the key to a fortune he desired. "We need him to sign the deeds!" The deeds to the lives of hundreds— maybe thousands, of slaves.
"We," Roy repeated, contemplating the statement. Maybe that's what Roy promised Vince; a slave empire of his own. It was clear that this wasn't Roy's actual plan, whether Vince was aware or not. It dawned on me, and all made sense.
Vince is a pawn in Roy's game. He only needed him to outsource information on where I was, and how he could get me alone. He was promised my inheritance as a reward for capturing me. But the real plan would be to kill Vince and Louis, and keep me for his own sick desires.
Their freedom was now in my feeble hands. My weak, bloody hands. I'm reminded of the conversation I had with myself last night, while I laid awake restlessly. The same feeling of anger arose just thinking that he would be taking not only Louis— but countless lives into his fascist reign. That was enough for my spine to go numb, and my trembling hands to find the broken pipe. A few rusty bolts stuck out wildly at one end of the pipe where the impact of my body had stripped them from the structure.
"There is no we," Roy corrected him, turning around so his back was to me. Vince's face turned pale at the meaning of his words. He was puzzling it together. He gave one last glance at what he caused; the bloody, battered mess of someone he used to be partners with.. maybe even friends. And then Roy grabbed him by his scrawny neck, like he had done to me. Roy's weight was enough to overcome anyone in the room, and his years of having to physically restrain those who resisted his urges made him stronger.
Moments later, I found myself standing. My hand leaned against the wall for support, and I breathed out in pain once my spine protested. I watched as the life drained out from Vince's face, his shallow breaths mirroring Louis'. He was gone in minutes.
"You know what they say," I breathed out jaggedly, my hand gripping onto the rusted pipe. Roy let Vince's dead body fall, unconcerned about me behind him. I pulled the weaponized pipe back behind me to gain stamina. When he caught a glimpse of my hand moving backwards, his head snapped back, confused at what I was holding. "an eye for an eye." I let out a cry of pain and drove the end of the pipe square into his nose; one of the bolts penetrating his eye socket. He let out an angry cry of pain, before he fell to his knees. Blood poured from his wounds as I tugged roughly to release the bolt from his eye. He deserved to bleed just the same as Louis was doing so right beside him. I sunk down below Roy, who was beginning to come in and out of consciousness from the blow.
"You've certainly became less attentive since the last time I saw you." I yanked on his bloody hair, staring into his untouched eye. "Did you kill him?" I shouldn't care. I shouldn't want to know if he actually killed himself or not. But if he had, it wouldn't mean that he was weak. Only that he couldn't run from the terror that he instilled within thousands, that he couldn't be forgiven for. No chance to find a wife, or husband— meaning no children to raise. Being shunned by the church. There was no forgiveness left for Samuel Alder. Unless he tried to make it right, and that's where I came into play. To make it right for him.
But if he was murdered, then he really did not care what he provoked— also leaving no forgiveness for him in that case. Either way; a favour had been granted to the world. But that left me clueless as to why he would leave me his empire on a whim.
Roy was groaning in pain, his disfigured nose spewed blood down to his neck. I yanked on it again. He complied that time.
"N-No, I didn't kill him! Why would I kill him before I had the chance to.. ch-change the will? All of that f-fortune— wasted! On you,"
He attempted to keep the blood from pouring down his throat as he spoke, sputtering and coughing as he choked it out.
My instincts were correct all along. I shoved his head aside, causing him to cry in pain. It felt nice to see him suffer finally. It gave me closure, especially when I glanced over at my wheezing man, fighting for his life because of Roy's greed.
I spat on Roy's face, before I stood up and finished him off with the remaining fragments of the pipe that hadn't crumbled. I stared at the blood that stained my hands as though it was a medal of war; signalling that the job was done.