"Gerard thrashed and cried like a wild animal."
A tray of food had been placed upon his lap. A simple ham and cheese sandwich, a juicebox, and some carrots. Gerard did not eat it, only leering at it suspiciously. True, he was hungry, but he wasn't sure if this might be some attempt to poison or drug him. He felt he shouldn't risk it.
They had relinquished him of the cuffs for his arms. He sat curled into a fetal position on the bed. His back still stung slightly from earlier, and he rocked back and forth to distract him from that.
Gerard wondered if the guys were looking for him. They must be by now. Whenever someone in the band went missing for more than few hours, action was always taken. Still he felt nervous that they had perhaps shrugged it off. Gerard figured Mikey wouldn't.
Which means they'll find him soon, right?
Gerard kept trying to think optimistically to prevent himself from breaking down. This was no time to panic. He tried to take every opportunity to figure out where he was. No such luck. He couldn't even tell if it was day or night, considering there was no window to look out of. His watch, his cellphone, his wallet were all missing from his pockets. Most likely being held by his captors.
What felt like a few hours after the food had been brought in, the door opened again. Gerard froze, his eyes staring at the door. Scared.
Another ski masked person came in. Gerard could never tell if these people were the same people from before or not. They kept everything concealed in the same outfits. They wore gloves to cover their hands. It was like Gerard was some contaminated, diseased thing that needed to be kept quarantined.
The man came to his side and looked at the food.
"You did not eat." he commented. Gerard strained his ears and tried to listen for an accent of some sort. But there was none that he could hear. The man spoke again. "If you do not eat, your punishment will only be worse."
"What am I being punished for?" Gerard asked, still desperately trying to get answers out of these people. The man grabbed the tray and put it on the floor.
Suddenly, the man then grabbed Gerard and pulled his hair. Gerard yelped and the man pulled him back, forcing him to lie down. The man used his other hand and yanked out a knife from his pocket. He waved it in front of Gerard's face almost playfully. Gerard thrashed against his grasp. The man put the blade of the knife to his neck and Gerard ceased resistance, breathing rapidly.
"Struggle with me, and I'll kill you faster. We know where your loved ones live."
Gerard's heart jumped to his throat at the threat. He squeaked out the word "What?"
The man bent down closer. He lifted Gerard's shirt to show his stomach. Gerard tried to look away from whatever he was doing. The man lowered the knife onto Gerard's belly and began piercing the skin. Gerard only whimpered at first but began to scream as the man dug the knife deeper and deeper into the flesh. He felt blood gushing out of the wound. The man was cutting across the stomach, but doing so extremely slowly. He made sure the blade stayed embedded deep.
Gerard's eyes filled with tears, although he blinked them away hurriedly. He did not want to cry in front of them. He tried to keep a strong face but he couldn't help it; he was always sort of a whimp.
The man cut a second line below the line he had cut above. It felt like this time he cut even deeper. Blood was spewing all over himself. That gave Gerard an idea.
"I have Hepatitis C!" he lied. He knew it wouldn't matter that much to them as they were wearing gloves, but he hoped they were still paranoid or germaphobic or something of the sort.
But his face fell when the man laughed.
"Nice try kid. We already tested your blood while you were knocked out. We know everything. So don't even bother." The man said smugly as he tore through Gerard's skin some more. It looked like scissors cutting through gift wrap.
Gerard fell back, defeated. The man used the knife to inflict smaller, quicker cuts scattered over his upper abdomen. Gerard gripped the sheets with his hands, his toes curling from the pain.
The man finally stopped. He reached for something else in his pocket. It was a silver flask of some sort. The man bent over Gerard again and used his fingers to pull apart the edges of one of Gerard's larger cuts, widening the opening. Gerard squirmed. The man popped open the flask, tilted it over the wound and let the clear liquid inside it pour into the wound. Gerard screamed. It was rubbing alcohol.
The man did the same to the two other large wounds and sort of sprinkled some of the rubbing alcohol onto his smaller cuts. Gerard thrashed and cried like a wild animal. The man sort of chuckled and picked up the tray of the food from the floor, putting it back onto the bed. He began to walk away.
"Eat. You'll feel better." he laughed as he left the room.
Next Chapter: "Terror should never guide you, for even the fearful can take a beating in the end..."