Immaculate Misconceptions

There were several squad cars surrounding the building now and the band chewed on their nails nervously. There were 3 German Shepard’s and a Bloodhound barking in cars and pacing restlessly as cops sized up the building.
“It’s clear!”
The boys watched as several cops opened the doors to the cars containing the dogs. The Bloodhound was held back for further instructions while the German Shepard’s were already dragging their owners into the building where they began to sniff eagerly after being able to examine an article of clothing from Chris’ abandoned suitcase. They barked furiously at the smell of blood and began to bolt farther into the abandoned warehouse. The cops were immediately revolted by the smell that hit them as they were led downstairs into a dimly lit area. The space was huge and eerie.
A young officer covered his mouth and gagged, “Jesus Christ, it smells like shit down here.”
The dogs barked furiously and tugged on their leashes, yanking the officers forward.
The older officer’s eyes widen. Even with his past experience, he wasn’t expecting the place to look like such a dump. It smelled of feces and blood, “My God...” He murmured as the German Shepard barked at an article of clothing crumbled on the floor. They were torn and dirty, black. They looked like shorts but Chris was last seen in black jeans. There was no denying the dog’s sense of smell though... They belong to Chris.
The Officer spoke into his walkie talkie next, “The basement here is empty but... Christopher Cerulli was definitely here. The dogs found something,” He looked around, twisting his hand in the leash before grasping his flashlight. He aimed it at the floor and looked around, “We have fresh blood here, I repeat. Fresh blood.”

Outside of the warehouse, the boys froze in mutual shocked silence. They found blood... and it was fresh. Could it be Chris’? They said he was definitely in there at some point... Was he alive? Or were they too late?
The detective gave them an unsure glance before hollering, “Bring in the bloodhound! This boy is somewhere out there. They couldn’t have gone far! Come on! MOVE IT!”
The Bloodhound howled with excitement as he was led into the building. In the course of 30 minutes, the basement was fully illuminated with large lights and forensic scientists were gathered around every corner snapping pictures and bagging bits of evidence. There were different rooms, all empty and some clean of any evidence. They found Chris’ jacket in a small room with a large table in it. In another room were glass cabinets filled with chemicals and odd powders that were immediately bagged and removed. What disturbed them the most was the old fashioned electric chair that was cloaked in another room...

“Can we go down there?” Angelo asked unsurely.
The detective wiped the beads of sweat from his brow, “I don’t think you guys want to go down there... It’s... unpleasant.”
“When is the Bloodhound going to start tracking?” Kuza spoke up impatiently.
“We have prints!” Their attention was drawn to a forensic officer leaning next to the abandoned vehicle.
“Get it to the lab! Get the blood samples too! I need those results ASAP people!” The detective sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “The dog will be out as soon as they’re done in there-”
“There isn’t time for that!” Devin snapped with a furrowed brow.
The detective stared long and hard at Devin before his gaze softened, “I’ll see what I can do.”

It seemed like the clock was ticking rapidly as they waited, kept away from everything.
Suddenly, there was a long howl. The Bloodhound was on the hunt and he found a scent trail.
Devin, Angelo, Josh, Ricky, and Kuza found themselves chasing several armed officers and a bloodhound who’s nose was practically glued to the ground.

~*~

Chris whimpered as blood filled his mouth, the boot kicked him hard enough to knock one of his teeth out. The cross was dragged off him by several men who laid it flat before hammering a peg halfway down it. Chris was only able to roll onto his back, breathing slowly as that consistent pain was taking over him once again. His head throbbed and the sun that should’ve been so sweet blinded him. He gasped and let his chest rise awkwardly as men grabbed him by his limbs to drag him over to the cross.
He couldn’t even fight.
They dropped him carelessly and he squirmed in discomfort as the hard wood pressed against his spine.

And they continued to sing. Their songs were seamless, flowing from one haunting tune to the next as if they had no end.

The crown dug into his skull and he let out a random cry of pain and frustration. Agony.
And he was so so sorry...
Despite the crown, he rolled his head to the side, tears welling up in his eyes and he let out a choked sob as he watched a man hold down his wrist, his palm facing up.
“Urg!” He cried out threw clenched teeth in anger. All he could do was watch and wince as a large, thick, iron nail was pressed into the center of his palm.

And they paused.

Chris sniffled and coughed slightly, letting the silence take over him. Then, “What are you waiting for?! You got me where you want! You’ve broken my body! So finish this! FINISH THIS!”
“SILENCE!”
Chris clenched his teeth as Blue Jeans came into his vision,
“One last chance Cerulli! Just one! Repent! Repent now! Accept God into your life and we can show you a life where you may live for the better! You can live a life of such prosperity! Such glory! Just take my hand.” Blue Jean’s eyes grew solemn as he held out his rough hands... The hands tainted with Chris’ pain and suffering. Tainted with his blood.

Chris’ eyes watered with pain as he stared at the man’s hand. The whole crowd held their breath and suddenly they gasped as Chris’ hand slowly lifted, shaking and unsteady in it’s twisted and mangled state.
A smile broke out on Blue Jean’s face as he waited for Chris’ hand to meet his... For Chris to make the “right” choice.
Chris’ hand paused though... In midair as tremors raked his body. With clenched teeth his hand twisted ever so slightly and several fingers lowered themselves enough for his middle finger to protrude proudly, no matter how crooked.

Blue Jeans growled furiously and in a quick movement, stomped his boot on Chris’ face, splitting the skin and cleanly breaking his nose. Fresh blood dribbled down his cheeks and for several minutes he twitched as he struggled to get air through his mangled nose.

There was a loud twang and Chris’ throaty, shrill scream filled the air. Men held him down as he twisted and tried to get away but there was no stopping it. He screamed as the nail dug deep into his skin, tearing through it, cracking the bones, then exiting through the back of his hand where it’s began to enter the wood. The pain sent dots of red in his vision and his body shook.
Another loud twang in his other palm and the world went black.

Chris only stirred when he suddenly felt heavy... Like something was tugging at the skin in his palms and an odd numb feeling in his feet which overlapped each other awkwardly... Pressed together oddly firm. His head felt the heaviest as he came to, the disgusting singing filling his ears again but when his vision focused he found himself looking down at the crowd of people and the smell of gas somehow snaking it’s way into his snapped nose.
He tried to say something but all that came out were mangled noises...

The cross was picketed upright and Chris was a mock image of a crucification. His face covered in the blood oozing from the crown embedded in his skull and leaking from his nose. Soon he’d begin coughing it up, unable to acknowledge the countless piles of wood surrounding the bottom of the cross being soaked in gasoline and the priest began to recite words from his black book.
Chris let out a shaky breath. It will all be over soon.

Today, he will die.