Misfits
Misfits
The boys stood in a circle in the trashed living room of the log cabin, passing nothing between them but networked silence. Pupils swished back and forth, eyeing each other as if they were no longer human.
“I say Mikey goes.” Mikey’s face dropped and his complexion faded, and each boy looked up at Don, waiting for reason to his remark. “He’s the littlest. If he fights back we can over-power him easily.”
“It would be seven against one anyways,” Alex argued “any one of use would be over-powered.” Mikey’s shoulders dropped from their tensed position and he breathed a sigh of relief.”
“But does anyone even like Mikey? I mean, I wont miss him.” scoffed Don.
“Dick.” Mikey muttered under his breath.
“I would.” Charles spoke up softly and Mikey grew a thin grin of appreciation.
“Yeah well maybe both of you love birds should go.” Don spewed. “Go find Zack and you can have the threesome you’ve been waiting for.”
“Well maybe YOU should go!” Taylor shouted. The room went quiet as fourteen blue eyes turned to meet his, Don’s pair squinted with rage.
“Is that some kind of joke, you little fuck?”
Taylor couldn’t get himself to do anything but stare back in silence, unable to take his gaze away from Don’s.
“Do you seriously think you could do that?”
“Like Alex said: seven could easily over-power one.” Taylor shifted his sight to Alex, hoping for some backup, but Alex had already turned the other direction, attempting to disclude himself from the conversation.
Don scoffed and reached into his one rubber boot, pulling from it a steal switchblade.
“See this?” he inquired. “This is a knife. We have all been over this a million times. I have the knife. I make the rules. I can pick whoever i want to go outside.”
Taylor closed his eyes, for he just now realized that the consequences of his outburst would cost him.
“Please no! Don’t make me go! I’ll do anything!” Taylor was practically crying and he collapsed to the floor. The other boys had predicted his fate since the moment Taylor spoke out and they were trying hard to act as if they had no knowledge of Taylor’s existence.
“Oh shut up.” said Don as a cruel smirk swept across his face. “Mikey is going.”
“The fuck did I ever do to you?! Nothing. That’s what.” Mikey shouted, his voice cracking into higher pitch screaming.
“The fuck did you ever do FOR me? Nothing. That’s what.” chuckled Don.
“I’m not going.”
Don sighed and reached into his boot once more.
“I could’ve sworn we understood this after the millionth time I said it but apparently the concept is alot harder to understand than I thought. I have the knife, Mikey. You have the highly sliceable body parts. It’s a match made in heaven. Understand?”
Mikey gargled his throat, stirring up as much phlegm as he could, and spat across the room, slathering Don’s face in the solution of mucus and saliva.
“Oh you did it now, fucker.” Don said in an eerily calm manner as he started his way across the room towards Mikey. He clenched his fist and brought it up hard on the underside of Mikey’s chin. The painful clack of one jaw meeting another forced loose a tooth that fell to the floor. Don pulled Mikey’s head downward, slamming it against his knee,crunching the cartilage in Mikey’s nose.
Mikey shouted for help in a panicked, hoarse voice but the other boys just looked at each other. Even Charles who had once claimed to be on Mikey’s side knew that it was in his best interest to ignore the brutality that was taking place only a couple yards away.
Don pushed Mikey to the floor, pinning the helpless boy’s arms underneath his knees, and began pounding fist after fist into Mikey’s face as he continued screaming for the other boys’ aid.
“You deserve this, Mikey! You little cock, you deserve this!”
Soon Mikey’s body stopped struggling. The sounds of pain that escaped his lungs no longer rang in the air. The boys could no longer see him in the crimson coated face.
Don stood up, ran his forearm across his nose while taking a sniff, and walked over toward the table and grabbed a rag on that had already been blood stained. He ran his fingers through the cotton and looked over at the boys.
“So now there are two of them. Who is going to go outside the cabin and bury them now?”
The boys stood in a circle in the trashed living room of the log cabin, passing nothing back and forth but networked silence. Pupils swished back and forth, eyeing each other as if they were no longer human.
“I say Mikey goes.” Mikey’s face dropped and his complexion faded, and each boy looked up at Don, waiting for reason to his remark. “He’s the littlest. If he fights back we can over-power him easily.”
“It would be seven against one anyways,” Alex argued “any one of use would be over-powered.” Mikey’s shoulders dropped from their tensed position and he breathed a sigh of relief.”
“But does anyone even like Mikey? I mean, I wont miss him.” scoffed Don.
“Dick.” Mikey muttered under his breath.
“I would.” Charles spoke up softly and Mikey grew a thin grin of appreciation.
“Yeah well maybe both of you love birds should go.” Don spewed. “Go find Zack and you can have the threesome you’ve been waiting for.”
“Well maybe YOU should go!” Taylor shouted. The room went quiet as fourteen blue eyes turned to meet his, Don’s pair squinted with rage.
“Is that some kind of joke, you little fuck?”
Taylor couldn’t get himself to do anything but stare back in silence, unable to take his gaze away from Don’s.
“Do you seriously think you could do that?”
“Like Alex said: seven could easily over-power one.” Taylor shifted his sight to Alex, hoping for some backup, but Alex had already turned the other direction, attempting to disclude himself from the conversation.
Don scoffed and reached into his one rubber boot, pulling from it a steal switchblade.
“See this?” he inquired. “This is a knife. We have all been over this a million times. I have the knife. I make the rules. I can pick whoever i want to go outside.”
Taylor closed his eyes, for he just now realized that the consequences of his outburst would cost him.
“Please no! Don’t make me go! I’ll do anything!” Taylor was practically crying and he collapsed to the floor. The other boys had predicted his fate since the moment Taylor spoke out and they were trying hard to act as if they had no knowledge of Taylor’s existence.
“Oh shut up.” said Don as a cruel smirk swept across his face. “Mikey is going.”
“The fuck did I ever do to you?! Nothing. That’s what.” Mikey shouted, his voice cracking into higher pitch screaming.
“The fuck did you ever do FOR me? Nothing. That’s what.” chuckled Don.
“I’m not going.”
Don sighed and reached into his boot once more.
“I could’ve sworn we understood this after the millionth time I said it but apparently the concept is alot harder to understand than I thought. I have the knife, Mikey. You have the highly sliceable body parts. It’s a match made in heaven. Understand?”
Mikey gargled his throat, stirring up as much phlegm as he could, and spat across the room, slathering Don’s face in the solution of mucus and saliva.
“Oh you did it now, fucker.” Don said in an eerily calm manner as he started his way across the room towards Mikey. He clenched his fist and brought it up hard on the underside of Mikey’s chin. The painful clack of one jaw meeting another forced loose a tooth that fell to the floor. Don pulled Mikey’s head downward, slamming it against his knee,crunching the cartilage in Mikey’s nose.
Mikey shouted for help in a panicked, hoarse voice but the other boys just looked at each other. Even Charles who had once claimed to be on Mikey’s side knew that it was in his best interest to ignore the brutality that was taking place only a couple yards away.
Don pushed Mikey to the floor, pinning the helpless boy’s arms underneath his knees, and began pounding fist after fist into Mikey’s face as he continued screaming for the other boys’ aid.
“You deserve this, Mikey! You little cock, you deserve this!”
Soon Mikey’s body stopped struggling. The sounds of pain that escaped his lungs no longer rang in the air. The boys could no longer see him in the crimson coated face.
Don stood up, ran his forearm across his nose while taking a sniff, and walked over toward the table and grabbed a rag on that had already been blood stained. He ran his fingers through the cotton and looked over at the boys.
“So now there are two of them. Who is going to go outside the cabin and bury them now?”
The boys stood in a circle in the trashed living room of the log cabin, passing nothing back and forth but networked silence. Pupils swished back and forth, eyeing each other as if they were no longer human.