Stuck In Here With Me

A pounding headache was the only thing that greeted me.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked myself groggily. I woke up in silence and in darkness, with absolutely no recollection of last night's events. All I knew was that I was alone. And I needed a shower.

"Mmm..." Someone groaned, startling me.

Okay, so I wasn't alone...

I stumbled to my feet and scrambled through the darkness, trying to find the source of noise in this otherwise silent room. I didn't find anybody, but I did find a lightswitch.

When light finally flooded through the room, I couldn't believe my eyes. It wasn't the bloody pentagrams on the wall, the 666s, or the blood-stained, trashy furniture strewn and thrown about. No, it was the limp body of my all-time enemy, Craig Mabbitt, that caught my eye.

He scrambled to sit up right, realizing he was laying dangerously close to a fresh pool of blood.

"Radke?" He spat my name out of his mouth as if it was poisonous.

"Someone's on their period..." I muttered in a sing-song voice, referring to the pool of blood next to him. I had to hold back laughter from seeing the rage that covered his face. "Well, someone's happy. You know who else is happy? MY band." Now it was Craig's turn to laugh.

I clenched my fist and contained my anger while Craig opened his mouth to hurl an insult. But the hatred on his face was replaced by confusion and disgust. I watched as he observed his surroundings for the first time. I guess he was too busy hating my guts to notice where we were, or to even question why we were in the same room together.

"Hey, what's that?" Craig pointed to a dusty, dried-blood covered bookcase. On one of the shelves was a crisp, pure white envelope. Glad it too wasn't covered in blood, I jogged over to it, and started to read the contents aloud.

"Boys,

As everyone knows, you two hate each other with a burning passion. Not only you two, but both of your bands as well. I am here to inform you that today, all of that will come to it's end. In order to survive what's coming to you all, peace must be made. You have two hours to do so. If you all choose not to cooperate, no one is leaving alive.

If you succeed in making peace, you will then have to fight for not only your life, but everyone elses. Your time begins now."

And then, on cue, a loud buzzer rang out, signaling our time had started.

Craig and I scoffed simultaneously.

"I don't think you two understand the severity of this situation." A loud voice boomed through the room, jolting both of us.

"Pft. How does anyone expect me to get along with that?" Craig muttered under his breath. That was the wrong thing to say.

I grabbed him by his shirt, lifting him three inches off the ground. I thoroughly enjoyed the look of terror on his face as I effortlessly held him in the air. "I'm not happy about it either, but we have to try, fuckhead! I'm not dying because your dumbass refuses to cooperate!" I let go of his shirt, making him crumple up on the ground. Yeah, that's right, motherfucker. I didn't work out every single day for nothing.

I scoffed. "I knew you were all talk." He scowled, while I laughed.

I watched as Craig spotted a clock. He smeared some blood off of it, cringing as he did so. "We have an hour and 47 minutes still. Let's go find the guys."

He stood up and walked toward one of the three doors in the room. I stayed put, waiting. Obviously I made the right choice. Behind the door that Craig opened revealed two dead bodies, hanging from rope on the ceiling. Their bodies were both mutilated beyond repair.

I put my nose in my shirt and gagged. Alright, so I wasn't the one that needed a shower.

Craig slammed the door and wrinkled his nose. His face reflected how I felt; terrified and sick.

Refusing to show that I was scared, I pulled my nose out of my shirt and stepped in front of Craig. I yanked open the door farthest away from the one Craig opened. Luckily, I picked the right one. I cautiously stepped out onto the creaky floorboard, Craig in tow.

"Jacky?" I shouted.

"Monte?" Craig copied my actions.

I turned around to remind him he still gets on my fucking nerves, but I was interrupted by cries and voices. Voices I knew all too well.

"Jacky! Monte!" I cried and ran to the door, Craig again following my lead.

"Ronnie! Help us!" Jacky's British accent shouted. I ran to the door which was being banged and jostled. I slammed it open, wishing I didn't have to see what I saw.