SCENE 12
Stacy had no clue where she was. The entire room was pitch black and her eyes wouldn’t adjust fast enough. She heard maniacal laughter that sounded close by, but she couldn’t tell how many people were in the room with her. All she could remember recently was that she was approached by a girl she didn’t recognize and that was it. Her heart rate accelerated drastically, and she respired heavily. Instinctively, she looked around the room, but she couldn’t see a thing. The individuals kept laughing and whispering to each other. Stacy tried to make out what they were saying, but they were too quiet. She struggled to move around more, but she noticed her hands were tied down to the arm rests on the cushiony chair, and her ankles were tied together with rope as well. She didn’t want to risk trying to pull her feet out because she could increase the chances of getting herself skin burns that she didn’t want to deal with. She grew angrier and angrier as time progressed and the voices from the others wouldn’t shut up. She thought the others might have just forgotten about her, or they’re just teasing her and messing around, seeing if she’ll break or not. Stacy couldn’t sit quietly anymore, she was going to drive herself crazy if she didn’t speak up and get their attention. She tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound idiotic or get herself killed, so she simply said, “What’s going on?”
Spotlights suddenly shined upon the stage, where four oddly-dressed people stood. It had to be the people who took Harold and Karry. Stacy thought. Then, the one with the top hat whispered to one with crazy black hair and creepy looking mask. “Why does everyone always ask that same, cliched question?” His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with a bit of psychotic.
“It’s a thing called ‘shock.’ You should try it sometime.” The other replied, clearly annoyed by the question.
“I will when I go into cardiac arrest.”
“I don’t mean literally getting shocked with defibrillators.” The creepy masked person was evidently not in the mood for some good old literal humor, and Stacy was getting impatient, given that they haven’t answered her question yet. “Who are you?!” She screamed.
The creepy masked guy scoffed. “Let’s just skip the song and just tell her. I’m Killer Jam.”
“I’m Sadistic Synth.” The top hat wearer said.
“I’m Blood Bass.” The girl with heavy makeup stated.
“And our friend by the drums over there, his name is Dead Drum.” Killer Jam replied. Stacy’s face was covered with fear still. She knew that all she could do was talk and nothing else. “Why am I here?” She chose to ask. Sadistic Synth let out a wild laugh and responded with, “Because we felt like bringing you here.”
Stacy was sick of their twisted games. “What is this place?”
“Cue the music!” Killer Jam shouted. Sadistic Synth played music that sounded like it came straight out of a video game through speakers hanging from the ceiling. The music was catchy and upbeat, but incredibly cartoonish. “We call this place ‘The Gauntlet,’ for obvious reasons.”
Sadistic Synth looked up at the speakers and his face was awestruck. “I’ve always wondered how we could hear music playing in the background.” Killer Jam couldn’t believe how many times he had told Sadistic Synth about the speakers and he still managed to forget about them.
“Shut up. She probably isn’t even that scared now.” Blood Bass complained, while standing with her arms folded.
“Oh, well if she isn’t scared. She just needs to stay quiet.” Killer Jam countered. He knew Stacy would want to fight back and try to escape. He couldn’t let that happen.
“There’s nothing you can do to keep me quiet!” Stacy shouted viciously, scaring the group a bit.
“Um, actually there is! It’s exactly how we got the others to stay quiet.” Killer Jam informed. But, he also just confirmed that they’re the ones behind the kidnappings. If Stacy escaped, then Killer Jam and the others would be screwed. Sadistic Synth pulled out his more than helpful spray can and held it in Stacy’s face. “Sweet dreams!” He exclaimed as he sprayed her in the face. She let out a cough or two, then slumped over unconscious. Sadistic Synth, as usual, felt overly satisfied. Killer Jam couldn’t risk keeping her awake only to have her escape and spread the word that she made it into their lair and out and lived to tell the tale. But, he knew he shouldn’t be stressing out about it right now. “You know, I think it’s time to turn on the remix.” Killer Jam said. Sadistic Synth turned off the music on his phone and played a remix of the same song, which sounded just as upbeat and cartoonish. “Now that that’s done, who shall we go after next?”
Not a normal question you’d hear from a madman to ask his crew. Then again, Killer Jam wasn’t your average masked maniac. He made sure to have as much fun as possible and not be totally heartless when dealing with his victims. He doesn’t kill his victims, he toys with them, drives them crazy, messes with their heads. He sings about himself and his crew just to literally keep his victims on the edges of their seats. And keeping his crew on their toes. “I was thinking maybe Zachary.” Sadistic Synth answered hesitantly.
“That weird kid who calls himself ‘Laughy?’” Blood Bass questioned, curious as to why Synth would want to go after him of all people. Probably because they have similar personalities.
“Not him. We should do Walter so that he and Stacy can still be together.” Killer Jam said. He may be insane, but he’s not cruel.
“You made that sound much weirder than it needed to be.”
“Well, they do try to stick together since they’re related.” Sadistic Synth informed, suddenly draining his animated behavior and gaining seriousness.
“Let’s wait until no one’s awake or at least oblivious so that we can take him.” Killer Jam declared.
“Can I take him?” Sadistic Synth begged and fluttered his eyes because he knew how much Killer Jam hated it when people did that and that he would eventually give in.
“Sure, why not. But the next person we target is all for Dead Drum back there.” Killer Jam groaned while Dead Drum raised a fist and cheered. “See? He’s been waiting patiently to have a chance to take someone.” It was moments like this where Killer Jam’s politeness and calmness scared the heck out of Sadistic Synth.
“All right, sounds like a plan. Well, I’m going to head out and get some rest now. Drum, you ought to get some rest too if you want to take someone.” Sadistic Synth suggested. Dead Drum hummed in agreement, then left the lair with Synth. Killer Jam turned off the remix that was still playing through the speakers. The room fell eerily silent momentarily, until Killer Jam broke it. “Man, he just can’t seem to get enough action with taking people, now can he?” He complained.
“Nope.” Blood Bass twirled in a circle and fell into Killer Jam’s arms. “So, how did I do catching Stacy?”
Killer Jam smiled showing his surprisingly white teeth. “You did fantastic!” He said as he twirled her back onto her feet. He loved watching her do stuff even if she was just standing around. He has loved her for as long as her can remember, they’ve been friends for years, and he thinks they’re meant for each other. They don’t do anything without the other, they’ve always included each other in all their activities. He talked more so he wouldn’t end up in a daze. “I didn’t even catch anyone tonight. I ran into Craig, quite literally.”
Bass gasped excitedly. “What happened afterwards?!”
Killer Jam was glad she asked. “I chased after him to some weird little base type of thing, then we fought. He hit me in the chest with a pan, I managed to make him release the pan, then I held him against a wall, but before I could take him, he kicked me backwards and ran away.” He answered, not leaving out any of the juicy details that she’d want to hear.
“Are you, all right? Did you break anything?”
“Not yet. But I’m not planning on doing so anyway.” The last thing Killer Jam needed was for Bass to be worrying about him like this.
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want my guy to have to be broken, especially not when we’re going to be performing for the Musicale.”
Killer Jam hadn’t thought about the Musicale ever since he started taking people away with his group and spying on Craig. The thought shocked him a bit. “Of course. But let’s just hope Craig doesn’t ruin the Musicale for everyone.”
“I know that he won’t because we’re taking care of this problem right now, aren’t we?” Bass sounded as if she were starting to question Killer Jam’s style of getting this done.
“Yeah, but he still just wants to sing. I mean, I know that he’s helping look for his friends but once he’s found them, he’ll just go right back to singing.” Killer Jam spoke with a dark sense of hopelessness trembling from his vocals.
“That may be true, but we’ll just have to see.” If there was anyone who was optimistic in their group, it was Blood Bass.
“Later tonight or tomorrow.”
“Yep. I’m going to go get some rest now, and I suggest you do the same.”
“I will soon enough.” Killer Jam knew he’d be up all-night thinking of new ways to stop Craig, some ways seemed impossible, others infuriating. He couldn’t keep doing this to himself, Craig needed to be stopped, he couldn’t keep doing whatever he felt like and get away with it. The very thought of this made Killer Jam want to strangle Craig, but he knew that wouldn’t do either of them any good. The only thing Killer Jam could do right now was try to get some sleep if possible. There’s a good chance that he wasn’t going to dream about anything thanks to his torturous insomnia that he’d been dealing with since he turned thirteen, which would make that three years now. Medications didn’t work and sleep sessions with his therapist didn’t work either, so all he could do now, was force himself to sleep, even if it took all night just to get a few minutes.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
