Hour 9- (Little Mouse)

{This chapter pulls absolutely no punches, it includes graphic descriptions of torture.}

I pushed open the door and immediately threw up at the sight, my eyes watering to the stench. My knees collapsed, my eyes wide as smoke from downstairs filled the hallway, but I was fixated on the inside of the room. 

Inside the room, was William. He was hung up on the wall in a cross shape, attached by nails in his hands and feet, blood leaked out of his mouth like a faucet and dripped from the nails. His finger and toenails were ripped out, leaving the tips covered in a crimson red, his mouth was forced open, and his jaw detached and broken, hanging down. 

Where his shirt was before, was an empty carcass, stained red. Inside his mouth, his heart lay still, a large bone spike sent through his skull, trapping and piercing his heart, keeping it in place. His tongue was chopped up and placed on his bald head.

Where his eyeballs should have been, were two hollow holes, carved to be empty. Instead, his eyes were in a glass next to his corpse. His organs were arranged neatly on the desk, not a speck of blood on them. 

There was a message on the wall, which read, "Little mouse was caught three times, how long will you last?" The words dripped down, each letter drawn perfectly with blood. His teeth were lined up, from biggest to smallest, each clean and polished. 

I screamed, the sound bone-chilling as it echoed through the room and hallway. Smoke filled my lungs, my eyes stung as I cried, I failed him too. "I-I'm going to kill her!" I shouted, clutching my heart and squeezing my eyes shut tightly. 

I turned around, looking at the hallway, trying to avoid seeing William's mangled corpse, and heard someone's boots approaching. "Do you like the surprise, little mouse?" She asked, coming into full view. Sayers was right, it was Jess, all along, it was her. 

"Y-You fucking monster!" I shouted, unable to stop my stutter, the stench clogging my nose. I held back the urge to throw up again, as my vomit leaked down my chin. My legs shook violently as I stared at her approaching figure.

"Monster, little mouse, whyever would you call me that?" Jess questioned, tapping her finger against her chin, leaving a streak of blood on the corner of her mouth. Slowly, she pulled out a knife, the blade stained a deep, crimson red. 

"He was a kid, a kid! He didn't hurt you! W-What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I managed to say, while a bone-chilling cold seeped through my spine and spread throughout my body. As if it was instinct, I took a step back, my limbs trembling. 

"Well, simple, he lost our game. How about you, little mouse, this is strike two for you," She said with a laugh, tossing the knife to my feet. A clang rang out, the blade spinning, before finally stopping just before it cut my foot open.

I could see the liquid on the knife, it was the same color as Willaim's blood. She looked at me expectantly, tilting her head, as if she was waiting for me to pick up the knife. "Well? This is the final round, little mouse!" Jess yelled, laughing as she pulled out a small gun from her jacket. "You have ten seconds to find a hiding spot, better hurry!"

Without waiting for her to say anything else, I turned around and ran, my legs forcing me forward like I had no control over my body anymore. My ankle slid, but I stood and kept running, not letting up for a second. 

Tears stung my eyes, my stomach churned, and a chilling cold was forcing its way around my bones, yet I didn't stop. It was as if something deep inside was yelling at me, screaming at me not to stop. She wasn't just the one who made all of this happen, she was a predator, and I was her prey. 

"TIMES UP, LITTLE MOUSE! HERE I COME!" She shouted, her boots echoing against the hard ground. I could hear her rapidly approach me, every step sounding like a gunshot as she got closer. 

"I-I can't do this, I was wrong. I was so wrong, I'm sorry, Sayers! I'm sorry for yelling at you, just come back, please!" I begged, still sprinting down the hallway as fast as I could, my ankle cracking with every step. 

I could see a dark purple bruise poke out from under my sock, the cracking got louder, and finally, I fell once more. My chin slammed into the floor, almost knocking me out. 

The world around me started to spin, and my vision got darker and started closing on me, but I lifted myself with my uninjured arm. "I'll atone for my mistakes after this, I owe everyone who died at least that. The reaper can wait dammit!"

A click shot down the hallway, followed by a footstep, then another, another, and finally, another. They stopped, and I didn't have to turn around to know she was behind me. A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead, dripping to the floor as I stood still, the pit in my heart grew bigger, was this it?

After everything, after how long I'd survived, I was really going to die like this? Without achieving a single dream of mine, after arguing with the only being in the world who stood by my side all the time, not even being able to tell my dad goodbye, and this was it for me?

"Strike three, little mouse," Her voice said, every word rang through the hall. I shook, my legs refused to move, a hole formed in my chest, and sweat poured down my face. 

"That's right, I guess this really is it for me. I don't want to die, not after everything, not before I can apologize! Please!" I shouted, turning around to face her as tears poured down my cheeks. 

"Then you should have played a bigger game, little mouse. You lose," Jess laughed, grinning widely as she stared into my eyes. 

My legs collapsed, forcing me onto my knees as I stared into her dark eyes. I chased Sayers away, and this was the result. He was right, about everything, he was always right. Ever since I was born, I had to trust and follow him, because he always had the answers. 

When was that? Right, it was sixteen years ago, the day I first saw him, and the day my life fully started. A click sounded down the hall, through blurry eyes, I could see her grip the gun, her finger hanging on the trigger. "Goodbye, little mouse."

*Sixteen years before, on the day of my second birthday.*

I cried, staring up at the monstrous eyes above me. My dad rushed into the room, throwing open my white, birch door, and ran over to my crib. He avoided the toys scattered across the floor like a master, stepping over a toy car, and knocking aside a stuffed bunny as he quickly scooped me up into his arms. 

"Hey, Oliver, what's wrong buddy? Shh, shh, calm down, what's wrong lil guy?" He asked, his blue eyes staring into mine as I blinked away tears. His hand quickly patted me on the back, his eyes searched the room, but he couldn't see what I could. 

"M-Monstwer!" I cried out, tears pouring down my cheeks as I pointed toward Sayers's orange eyes. The glow illuminated the entire room, but my dad couldn't see the glow, he only looked where my finger was pointing, and back to me. 

"Aw, little guy, there's no monster there. Monsters prefer closets, not standing above cribs-" He tried to finish in an attempt to calm me, but my mother's flip-flop slapped against the back of his head. "Ow, honey!"

"What he meant to say, baby, is there's no such thing as monsters, so just get some sleep, okay?" She asked, patting my little patch of brown hair, then turning to walk out of the room. "And sweetie, we have to talk when you finish putting him to bed, okay?" 

He set me back down in my crib, and put my white, bunny-covered blanket over me. "She's right, little guy, there's no such thing as monsters. Good night, Oliver. My precious little guy," My dad reminded me, kissing me on the forehead, and then leaving the room. 

I looked up, tears filling my eyes again as I stared at the monstrous figure above me. His eyes blinked shut, opened wide again, and then looked around my room. "Where the hell am I?" He asked, laying his eyes on me once again. 

"M-Monstwer scawy!" I mumbled, tears sliding down my pink, flabby cheeks. He looked at me, looked at the bunny on the floor, sighed, and then plopped it into my lap. 

"Listen, kiddo. I have no intention of hurting you," He said, his eyes flashing a light yellow. His eyes floated forward, getting to my door before he stopped. "Guess I should stay, there has to be a reason I was dragged here."

Hugging my blanket and bunny tightly, I stared into his eyes, the only part of him I could see. I trembled, cowering under the fluffiness of my bunny, and closed my eyes shut tightly. "My name is Sayers, kiddo. It seems your name is Oliver." He introduced himself shortly, patting my head, before I fell asleep.

*Years later, six days before my fifth birthday.*

I walked into the house, holding a worm in my dirty hands, as I walked to the living room. My dad was still at work, Sayers was at the table, looking at the newspaper, and my mother lay still on the couch. 

After setting my worm on the dark coffee table, I grabbed a toy car off the ground and drove it around. I kept repeating vroom, vroom, tracing a path for it to follow on the carpet, and then what was in my mom's hand fell to the floor. 

A long glass rod, stained a light hue of brown and green hit the floor, shattering instantly and sending glass into my feet. I screamed loudly, tears in my eyes as blood leaked out of the cut on my foot, and filling up the small green carpet I was sitting on. 

Sayers's eyes floated into the living room, he glanced between my mother and me, then picked me up and set me down in my chair by the table. "Shit," He mumbled, his eyes fixated on my mother instead of the broken rod on the ground. 

Blood trickled out of her nose, her mouth frothing, and her skin was a pale white. Slowly, before rapidly picking up, she started to violently shake, smoke exited her mouth and was sent through the living room, instantly encapsulating it in a horrid, rank stench. 

I blinked, still crying, then opened my eyes, only to still see black. Crying louder, I started shouting, "Momma! Momma!" Not a word came from her. and even Sayers was silent for a minute, before speaking. 

"Believe me, kiddo. You don't want to see this." He spoke out, his voice deep, making me shut up in a second. Something about it was enough for even me at that age to recognize that he was mad. 

It was silent, more quiet than it should have been. The faint smell of something musky crept its way up my nose, making me reel back. As soon as it came, it went away, replaced by the smell of coal.

After what seemed like days, my dad entered through the door, waking me up as I slept in my chair. "Honey!" He screamed, bending over the couch and holding her neck between two of his fingers. 

Tears poured down his cheeks, he pulled out his phone, and before I knew it, police and an ambulance were at the house. Their sirens cut the silent night wide open, the bright, flashing lights cut through the darkness, and I could hear my dad speaking. Words I couldn't understand were exchanged, but some parts I heard. 

"Yes, officer, I got home and my son was in his high chair, while my wife was dead on the couch. She promised me she quit doing drugs, she promised!" My dad cried out, holding his hands over his eyes. 

A clear liquid dripped from his hands, and I walked over to him, holding out my hand. "Where's momma going?" I asked, oblivious to what had happened. A man in a blue uniform scooped me up as my dad cried harder, his wails sending chills down my spine. 

"Your momma went to a very... special place. Don't worry bud, you have your dad," The man said, setting me down in the kitchen and walking back. Tears escaped my eyes, not because of the cut on my foot, but because there was a feeling creeping through my body, one I hated. I felt powerless.

Not one person offered my dad any condolence, they just left the house, glaring at him with pity. Sayers stayed still, looking toward me, then finally moved and it felt like he patted me on the shoulder. "Don't worry, kid. You have me, even if it costs me everything, I was dragged here for a reason. I'll be by your side whenever you need me, I promise."

*Eight years later, the dawn of my twelfth birthday.*

I climbed up the monkey bars, a bright smile on my face as I stared at my reflection. My short, brown hair flew with the breeze, and my bright blue eyes reflected at me the longer I looked.

My dad sat down on a black bench, watching me with dark, purple bags under his eyes. He waved at me, catching me in the act of gazing at him. 

The sun shined brightly down at me, causing me to wipe the sweat off my forehead as I looked around, noticing a group of kids around my age swinging, with one empty seat next to them.

"Hey, Sayers! Look, there's a spot, should I ask to join?" I asked excitedly, smiling as I looked at his bright orange eyes. The sun seemed to be absorbed by them, swirling around his irises, and staring back at me.

"Go ahead, I don't care," He replied, looking elsewhere. I nodded, ran over to them, and while twiddling my thumbs, asked the question I wanted to. 

The group of boys looked at me with disgust, one even getting off the swing to push his chest into my face. "Aren't you the freak who talks to himself? I heard your mom killed herself because she couldn't handle having someone like you as a son!" He yelled mockingly, slapping my hat off my head. 

A pit formed in my chest as I stumbled back, trying to get away from his chest. "T-That's not true!" I countered, my knees shaking under me. His shadow cast over my face, even as I backed away more. 

I glanced backward, looking for my dad, but all I saw was a group of middle-aged women snickering to themselves, pointing at us and laughing. "Little freak!" The boy shouted, pushing his hands against my head and sending me sprawling against the pebble-littered playground. 

"Stop! I-I didn't do anything to you!" I stuttered out, my knees buckling as I attempted to stand back up. 

The boy looked down at me, still laughing while his friends all giggled behind him. "Sure, what are you gonna do? Complain to your dead mommy?" He cackled, kicking me in the chest and making me fall onto my back. "Freak!"

A woman laughed loudly at his mocking words, slapping her knee and bending over while giggling hysterically. She made a motion of wiping a tear away, then smiled at me. I felt a chill run down my spine, I shook, closing my eyes as the sun shined down on top of me. 

"Wow, a group of little shits bothering a kid? Someone raised you poorly," A deep voice said from behind me, causing me to whip around. There was nobody there, only a pair of eyes. Sayers's eyes.

The boy looked around, his legs starting to shake as he stuttered, "W-W-Who said that?" He asked, his eyes darting around as he searched for the source of the voice.

Sayers didn't answer, instead, a large gust of wind came, knocking the boy on his butt and making him slam into the pebbles. The women stopped laughing, instead staring at us in confusion, and one of them ran over to grab the boy. 

"M-Monster child!" She screamed, dragging the boy away as the rest of them stared confused. 

"Do you need proof?" Sayers asked, his voice booming loudly. The other boys screamed loudly, running away to their parents, with a new wet spot on their pants. 

I was left alone in the park, holding my elbow, blood trickled from it, and I looked up at Sayers. "Thanks," I mumbled, standing up and walking around to find my dad. I paused for a moment and looked back at Sayers. "C-Can we make a rule to not speak around other people anymore?"

"That's for the best," He answered, his eyes staring at me. "Just shout if you need me though." We walked together in silence, yet I felt better than I did before, there was a new warmth in my chest. 

*Present time.*

"SAYERS!" I called, screaming at the top of my lungs. A pair of orange eyes cut through the smoke-filled hallway, glaring hard at Jess as she pressed down on the trigger. The eyes flashed closer, only a single step away from her. 

"The only one allowed to bully his ass, IS ME BITCH!" He yelled. A loud bang cut through the air, silencing her as her gun was immediately held still in her hands. Slowly, his claw opened up, and a single bullet fell to the floor.

Hour 10- (To be continued)