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Perquisite. Chapter 2. Spam Won World War II

Frank.

My crusty eyes opened to see a dingy room with flowered walls that almost made me want to hurl. Oh wait, that was probably from the passing out after the... yeah. I smiled and sat up, heel of my hand digging into my itchy eye socket. I yawned and stretched. "Holy shit I have to take a hit. And a shit, haha hey that rhymed, look at me." I said with a petty laugh and took a playfully haughty jaunt to the bathroom.

"Dudes, what is UP?" I shouted excitedly when I had emptied myself and pulled my boxers back up. My stomach growled and I wondered where my friends had taken me. "Hollis?Man, where be you?" I got up and walked to the door. "Heh heh I get it this is a joke. Nice one Maz. Nice one." I grabbed the knob and turned, apprehensive to see which room they decided to drop me off at this time. It had only happened once before, and they were only in the room next door. Didn't pay that time, but when did we? Like we had the money for it, and if we did, it wouldn't be spent on stupid shit hotel rooms.

Pulling out of the memory I realized the knob wasn't budging."What the fuck?" I pulled it at looked at it like I had never seen a door knob before. "Oh, hahah, my bad, you push it." I shook my head at my stupidity but when I pushed it I got the same result as before."STUPID SHIT!" I shouted and kicked the door. The door was locked, fucking locked. From the outside, may I add. "Calm down, Frank, you just need ahit." I checked my pockets, no longer concerned where I was and now on amission to find my stash.

I searched throughout my underwear and socks, and then snuck into the bathroom to check my ass crack to make sure their joke hadn't gotten carried away. Too bad I remembered after I had checked that it would be long in the sewage system if they had put it there.

I realized I was sweating and shaking when I looked in the mirror after my dope was nowhere to be found. "What the fuck man, what the fuck?" I rocked myself back and forth. "Window." I said and before it was out of my mouth I had ran to it and looked outside. It was the nicerside of town. At least the cleaner side, because I doubted there was a nicer. Especially if this is what happened here.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" I shouted. "WHO'S SICK FUCKING JOKE IS THIS? Coz I'm going to fucking kill them and fucking they're gonna fucking pay." I gritted my teeth and punched the door with each word.

What the fuck what the fuck. I'm going to be raped. I'm going to be killed. Holy fuck, Dahmer got reincarnated and he's fucking got me. Fuck. I did need to get laid....

I kicked the door until the sun's rays went from the ceiling to inches from the window frame, feet numb, hands bleeding.

I had been to someone reduced to crying in a heap in front of the door. "I don't car what you do to me, just give me a hit. A fucking hit. Smack the fucking bitch!" I shouted banging my arm against the door to make my point. "Why are you so fucking evil? Fuck. I am going to fuck you up so bad." My face was red and my insides burned. "Man is not made for defeat. You hear that, you psycho?" I spat the word and flecks of saliva sprayed against the door. I think I was foaming a little at the mouth, but I knew I was sweating like a mother fucker.

"Please. It hurts... it hurts!" I screamed and wailed in pain. It was like bone and muscle had been replaced with vibrating knives and aporcupine orgy. I banged my head against the wall, leaving a streak of sweat. Ichoked on some spittle, then I passed out.

-%|'_'_'_'_]-----

I woke up similar to the way I had woken up the last time, how long ago that was I can't remember. I heard someone cooking something on the stove. It smelled like meat, it smelled salty. My taste buds watered even though I couldn't get rid of the inkling that it was human flesh, because animals didn't smell so bad. I was surprised I even remembered what meat smelled like.

"Shit." I said, sitting up like I had yesterday. Was it adream? I think I would feel better if it was just a dream. My insides felt like acid shit massaging each other while wearing stupid Gene Simmons costumes. Fuccckkkkkkk.... Was the only word I could think about and actually form with my mouth. "Who the fuck is there?" I called and peeked around the corner, which was really only a random square added to feign a wall.

"You have got to be kidding me." I said dryly. A fucking old dude, real old, well like twenty years older than me, was standing in front of the stove watching some rectangle slabs of meat fry on skillet. I watched him for a couple minutes, wondering if the door was locked still and whether it really was human meat. "Its gotta be human flesh." I said to myself again and crept back to the door to test the lock.

I turned it slowly to avoid a squeak to find it even more locked than the first time. Really Frank, it can be locked more than being locked? Fucking moron, a real fucking moron. That's what I was without my heroine. How can you even lock a door from the outside? I continued to rant in my head angrily as went back to silently watch him. He actually wasn't bad looking, I mean, if a serial killer manifested himself in this looker, he could do whatever he wanted with me. I smirked and blushed as I became aware of the beginnings of alarge errection.

Wait, I hadn't been able to get it up properly since the drugs. I shook away the French accent that was building inside of my head.

So this wasn't adream. My kidnapper had kidnapped my drugs too. I felt exceptionally indignant towards him now and was pleased to see the arousing thoughts had vanished completely.

He scraped the shit on a plate, which was as dirty as the pan, and turned around.

"Holy shit!" he gasped and dropped the plate. I jumped back, speechless, ashamed and awfully scared. You don't fuck with people who have kidnapped you, but definitely not people who can fuck with your food.

"Peace out man. You let me go with say like... 100 dollars and I won't go to the fucking cops." I said spreading my hands out in front of me and backing up slowly. A hundred dollars would be heaven. He stared at me for another second. Holy shit, why didn't Iput pants on before this happened?! I suddenly got self fucking conscious, really exposed like.

He bent down wordlessly to pick up the food. "Hey you gonna fucking talk to me or did you fucking kidnap me to play fucking house all day?"I shouted. He was stupid, why would I be afraid of him? I stopped backing up and his eyes finally locked with mine.

Black, black hair framed his pale, pale face. In a dark, dark room, in a dark, dark house. I recited to myself silently. I gave achuckle. "Frank?" He asked after acouple seconds of exchanging the enticing gaze.

"You should know, you're the one that took me hostage." I sneered. He stood up and handed me the plate. He was alot taller than me. I think, actually, everyone was taller than me. "I don't want to fucking eat that, its been on the fucking shitty ground." I crossed my arms.

"Since when did junkies turn into spoiled brats?" He asked and dropped the plate onto the counter. I cringed at the loud noise and was disappointed to see it didn't break. I could have cut him. And I would have to, if it weren't for those rotten kids. I grabbed the head that I was screaming inside. STOP WITH THE FUCKING CHILDHOOD NOSTALGIA!! I scolded myself.

"I'm not a fucking junkie or a spoiled brat." I shouted at him once I had gotten my break down under control. I had been told I could manipulate any situation to my advantage, and it fucking came in handy, especially in a scene like this.

My eyes never left him even as he walked into the "other room" and sat down in a folding chair.

"Yeah, well you'll eat that or nothing." He said and crossed his arms too.

"Are you mocking me?" I asked in disbelief.

"Eat the food." He said coldly and I listened to him, not because I had to, but because I wanted the food. I stuck my tongue out at him and heard him sigh.

"Oh did I miss the eye roll? Do it again, do it again!" I said sarcastically and sat down at the edge of the bed and rested the plate on my lap. At this point, anything would have looked appetizing to me. I picked one up with my hands and bit into it, immediately spitting it back out. "Is this SPAM?"I asked, with my eyes wide open. "I'm fucking crashing and you bring me fucking SPAM? What is this? Nerds R Fucking Us?" Alright, that did sound a little sexual. But I didn't care. He neatly dodged the piece I threw at him. Isqueezed my eyes shut and opened them again. The SPAM had left a stain on the wall about three feet from his head.

"Goddammit..."

"You're awfully mouthy for someone who thinks they're kidnapped." Fuck you, you inconsiderate ass hole. I'm just trying to catch a break .I scowled at him.

"Why do you keep staring at me like a creep?" I asked when Itried to eat the SPAM but his unyielding stare made me feel uncomfortable.

"Because you're sick." He said in a disgusted tone. Like it was a spell, a sudden wooziness fell on me and my body ached again.

"No." I said and gagged a little. It had to be the SPAM.

"Yeah." His face spread out to askeptical smile.

I finished what could barely be called a meal and curled up under a blanket, still conscious of his ever penetrating eyes on me. "How do you know my name?" I asked through chattering teeth.

"You told me. A couple days ago. At the school, remember?" He waited for me to respond, but I think it was obvious that I didn't remember so he continued. "My name is Gerard, if you don't remember." He said quietly, like he was sad that I didn't recall, but he wanted me to.

"Hey Gerard?" I asked after awhile, piercing the silence with a hoarse whisper. I couldn't tell if he was asleep or not but I could feel the pain welling up inside me to the point I was about to pass out again, and slightly afraid I wasn't going to wake up, I knew I had nothing to lose.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw his head look up at me, concern in his eyes. "Hey Gerard are you gonna kill me?" I asked. He got up and came to the bedside. His presence gave me a sense of impending despair and Iflinched when his cold hand touched my head. He pushed the hair off my forehead. "No Frank, I won't kill you: the drugs will." And then his comforting tone annoyed me and I hated him more than I did before.




So here's just a little note from me.

This is dedicated 10/6 to my friend for whom it is written and