SCENE 13
Craig slept much better than he normally did, since he slept with his head on a cutting board that was lying flat on the ground and he had no blankets to keep him snug and warm. He rolled to his left, sat up, yawned, and stretched his arms. He placed his left hand on Jerald P’s shoulder, but he jumped when he realized Jerald P was awake and staring at him. “What the…? What are you doing?!” Craig exclaimed.
“Waiting for you to wake up.” Jerald P commented.
Craig sat up slowly, popping his back. “Well, I’m awake so, do you need something or what?”
“You know, I’ve been thinking about something.”
“Oh, please, don’t say anything else I may need to hear.”
Jerald P scoffed at Craig’s naïve sarcasm. “I’ve been thinking, do you even care if we find Harold? Or Karry? Or Stacy? Or are you only helping so that you can get back to your singing?”
“Of course, I want to go back to singing! I just want to sing with everyone, so they can hear my fabulous voice!” Craig was unbelievable egotistical that Jerald P’s blood boiled.
“I can’t believe this.”
“Well you should believe it because you’re witnessing it.”
“You don’t seem to really get it, do you?!”
“What? Get the fact that some people are missing?” Could Craig get any more immature than this?
“Some people?! They’re our friends! We need to keep looking for them until we succeed or else who knows, maybe we’ll both get taken and maybe even killed!” Jerald P wanted to just slap Craig in the face to knock some sense into him.
“They won’t be killed.” At least Craig didn’t want Jerald P stressing out about death, but that was the lowest of current problems.
“How do you know? Have you already found them alive somewhere and just decided it was best not to tell anyone?!”
“Man, you are bad at thinking about the positives in this.” And Craig was bad at seeing the reality in this.
“At least I’m actually worried about what happened the people I care about.” He walked away before Craig could say anything else. Everyone had been wearing the same clothes for the past two days because they’re determined to find Harold, Karry, and Stacy. Even Mr. Bartholomew is still wearing his tuxedo from the beginning of this week, but he’s kept it in remarkable shape. But, Craig wasn’t going to let Jerald P’s anger off his mind. “Seriously, he just needs to chill out.” He said to himself. Zachary approached him, looking even more tired than ever. He was having trouble keeping himself balanced as he started talking. “I’m going to have to agree with Jerald on this one, Craig.” He stated, nearly falling onto his side. He sat down beside Craig and just about fell asleep in the process. Staying awake all night long was not clearly his forte.
“Why are people so worried about what happened to Harold, Karry and Stacy?” Craig asked, with the answer being obvious.
“The really question is why aren’t you?”
Craig found himself dumbfounded. “I…”
“Exactly what I thought. You can still sing and do that sort of stuff while still caring for your friends and having their backs and protecting them. It’s not a ‘one thing or the other’ kind of deal.” All of Zachary’s words went into one ear and out the other. Craig muted out everything he heard unless it had anything to do with singing. And he doesn’t just do it with Zachary, he’s done it with Jerald P too, and even his parents sometimes. He’s got a bad reputation for only hearing things that he wants to hear. His parents tried to break him of it for years, but he’s more stubborn than a mule, and that was evident to everyone around him.
“I’m sorry, you kind of lost me at ‘sing.’” Craig decided to say, rather than doing this the easy way. All Zachary did was let out a deep sigh before proceeding.
“What I mean is, God gave us our talents to use for His glory, not our own, and He wants us to love others as Jesus loved us.” You’re starting to sound just like Jerald P. Craig thought loud enough to think that he might’ve accidently said it, but Zachary looked like he was waiting for Craig to say something obnoxious again.
“I feel like that if I don’t share my talent with others enough, then I’m not good enough, and so that’s what I’m going to keep doing until I feel like I’m good enough.”
“Craig, if you just keep trying to get attention…”
“This isn’t about attention, it’s about fame.”
“Really?” Zachary thought Craig didn’t know what he was talking about. Zachary believed that fame was just attention on a higher level. But, he didn’t think Craig believed that one bit.
“I’ve been in too many productions and have come too far to give up now. I’m going to continue singing whether people like it or not.” Craig was more than dedicated to becoming famous with his singing to the point where it seemed like he was being a total narcissist. Zachary couldn’t stand narcissistic people.
“You know, Craig, I think you should be doing what’s best for others and what you feel God tells you to do instead of just doing whatever you think is good enough. There are consequences to bad actions you know.” Craig didn’t suffer many consequences as a kid or as a teen due to the kind of person he is. It’s his way or no way in the fantasy world he lives in. His skull is much thicker than one might think, but not in the best way.
“I do know.” He just simply didn’t care.
“Be careful what you define as ‘good’ and ‘bad.’” Zachary left Craig alone and went to sit by Mr. Bartholomew.
“Why is everyone so mad at me now? I just wanted to sing. That’s exactly why I signed up here, to sing, not to search for missing people. Maybe I just love singing more than everyone else here.” Craig said to himself as Walter walked to him, also wearing the same clothes as he did yesterday. Walter was convinced that Craig was schizophrenic since he’s seen him talk to himself on many occasions. “I’m guessing you heard about Stacy?” Walter asked as he stood beside Craig and leaned against the wall.
“Who hasn’t?” Craig answered with a hint of attitude. He should remember that Walter is the guy who has the anger management problems before he starts having an attitude with him.
“No one’s been able to find her or the others for a long time now and I’m greatly worried about them.” Craig could see Walter holding back tears.
“I’m honestly not too worried about the whole situation.” Craig’s brutal honesty hit Walter hard in the chest and quickly infuriated him.
“Why not?” Walter’s temper started to rise and was already close to boiling point.
“Because I’m sure that no one’s going to die and to me, that’s what matters.”
Walter did everything in his willpower to keep his hands to himself and not put them around Craig’s scrawny esophagus. “So, you don’t really care if they’re all missing as long as you think they’re not dead?”
“I’m not saying I don’t care, I’m saying I’m not worried.” Craig wasn’t helping himself in this situation.
“Who knows. You’ll probably start worrying once you’re taken.” Walter has had enough of Craig’s ignorance.
“Or maybe I won’t.” Craig’s attitude only made Walter’s urge to hit him that much stronger. He felt like he could keep talking until Walter blew up just to see the result, but thankfully, he didn’t.
“Hmm. I’ll catch you later.” Walter walked away, keeping himself from throwing a punch to Craig’s jaw. He would have deserved it, but it would’ve gotten him into trouble too. And the last thing Mr. Bartholomew needs is for another student to get himself into trouble like Craig did.
“Okay, see you later. Boy, I’m seriously feeling like everyone’s hating on my love for singing and my lack of anxiety.” Craig couldn’t keep acting casual or someone’s going to do something about it. He thought about what Walter said about him not wanting to care unless he was the one to get taken. But he was only going to keep telling himself that everyone’s fine and that no one’s going to get killed or anything like that. But Craig remembered the look in Killer Jam’s eyes when he was held against a wall. Killer Jam looked more than capable of doing some serious damage if he wasn’t kicked backwards. Killer Jam had a crazed look in his beady eyes, and that frightened Craig enough to make him never want to get a wink of sleep again.
Now that all the students were out on night watch, this was the perfect opportunity for Killer Jam and his band to act. Sadistic Synth was squirming impatiently, desperately wanting to get his hands on Walter, and not leave him alone, unconscious like last time. The plan was foolproof, Sadistic Synth was going to run out and catch Walter and bring him back to the Gauntlet, easy enough. Killer Jam hoped that Sadistic Synth would properly execute the plan instead of going his own way. “Okay, guys, they’re all our on watch. The perfect time to go after our next victim.” Killer Jam announced.
Blood Bass totally forgot who Synth was supposed to go after. “Who is Synth going after? There’s not very many people to go after now.” Killer Jam couldn’t believe the words he was hearing coming from her mouth, had she not been paying attention or something?
“Do you know who you’re going after Synth?” Killer Jam asked, partially ignoring Blood Bass’s absurd question.
“Of course, I do!” Sadistic Synth exclaimed, wondering why Killer Jam would even ask that kind of question.
“Care to share?”
“Not really.”
“Fair enough.” Not the reaction Sadistic Synth was expecting from Killer Jam. Fair enough? He wanted more out of that!
“That’s it?”
“What’d you expect?” Blood Bass questioned, oblivious as to why Sadistic Synth is complaining.
“I expected him to like break out into song or something like that.” His answer was plausible. Killer Jam did tend to break out into song commonly without giving any explanation as to why. Then again, he is the lead singer of their band after all.
“That’s pretty reasonable.” Killer Jam agreed, as did the others. There were less than a handful of times where they’d disagree on something, usually something ridiculous and unimportant like what size of drink Sadistic Synth should try and drink in less than 30 seconds without getting a brain-freeze and without taking a break. Killer Jam caught himself zoning out again and broke himself of it. “What the heck are we doing?! Hurry and go after your target!”
“All right. I’ll be back in a common measure!” Sadistic Synth never had the best grammar, and wordplays were not his friends and that was clearer than shining glass.
“He’s not very good at this whole ‘word-play’ thing, is he?” Blood Bass asked even though she already knew the answer she was going to get.
“Oh, heck no.” Killer Jam replied.
Sadistic Synth pulled out his phone and played a song with the same rock singer from his last song he played. The lyrics were:
“I'm too scared to move, too scared to lose. Tell me what I am supposed to do. I'm too close to see you, but too far to touch. And too many times I’ve not done enough. I'm too close to see you, too far to touch, and too many times I've not done enough. I'm too strong to hurt you, but too weak to crush. I want to, oh, oh let's go. Oh-oh let's go everyone out the door. When you hear it go, hear it go, hit the floor. Let's go everyone hit the floor. When you hear it go, hear it go out the door. Oh-oh, let's go hit the floor, oh-oh here we go, here we go. I'm too scared to choose, scared to refuse. Tell me what I am supposed to do? I'm too wrong to be you, too right to blush, and too many times I've not done enough. I'm too strong to hurt you, but too weak to crush. I want to, oh, oh let's go. Oh-oh let's go everyone out the door. When you hear it go, hear it go, hit the floor. Let's go everyone hit the floor. When you hear it go, hear it go out the door. Oh-oh, let's go hit the floor, oh-oh here we go, here we go. Tonight, I walk alone no matter where I've been. No matter where I'm going, I know. Green lights mean time to go. But I won't let them in because I might lose control. Tonight, I walk alone no matter where I've been. No matter where I'm going, I know. Green lights mean time to go. But I won't let them in because I might lose control. Oh-oh let's go everyone out the door. When you hear it go, hear it go, hit the floor. Let's go everyone hit the floor. When you hear it go, hear it go out the door. Oh-oh, let's go hit the floor, oh-oh here we go, here we go. Oh-oh let's go everyone out the door. When you hear it go, hear it go, hit the floor. Let's go everyone hit the floor. When you hear it go, hear it go out the door. Oh-oh, let's go hit the floor, oh-oh here we go, here we go.”
- Thousand Foot Krutch
While the song played, Sadistic Synth ran towards Walter. Walter sat against a wall where he was doing his night watch with Stacy before. He stopped Sadistic Synth running towards him and he quickly got to his feet. “Oh, great” was all he could say before the maniac got close enough to lunge at him. Walter sidestepped to the left and grabbed Sadistic Synth’s shirt collar in the process. He struggled to break free, but Walter’s strength outmatched his by a long shot. Walter slammed the psycho against the wall and held him there. Sadistic Synth turned just enough to swing his arm downward into Walter’s arm, making the buff lose his grip on the shirt collar. Walter threw a punch with his fist, which was roughly the same size as Sadistic Synth’s face, clenched tightly, but Sadistic Synth’s reflexes kicked in and he jumped to the right, causing Walter’s pale fist to impact the wall with a loud thud. Walter shouted in pain as he shook his hand weakly, hoping the pain would reside soon. This was Sadistic Synth’s chance to take him out while he still could. He reached for the spray can in his left pocket, but he forgot that he had left his wallet in that pocket as well. How convenient for him. He tugged at the stubborn can, giving Walter enough time to recover. Walter stopped shaking his hand and saw Sadistic Synth trying to pull his spray can out. He finally got it out of his pocket, only to have Walter smack it out of his hand and watch it roll on the floor a few feet away.
Bam!
Sadistic Synth’s left cheek’s pain receptors were going off something brutal. Walter managed to punch one of the kidnappers in the face. He felt a strong sense of power in his veins. “That was for Stacy!” He shouted.
Thwack!
Walter cried out in pain and grabbed his knee after Sadistic Synth landed a spin kick on him and jumped for his spray can. Walter let his cocky attitude get the best of him and he paid the price for it. He should’ve let loose on the freak. He should’ve given the madman what he deserved for taking Stacy, but he didn’t. The one time he could’ve used his anger and not get into trouble in the act. Tonight was not a good time to get overconfident. Sadistic Synth grabbed his spray can, ran back to Walter, who was still holding his now bruised and blackish-purple knee, and sprayed him in the face. He coughed gravelly as he fell onto his side and passed out.
“Man, you’re quite the fighter, aren’t you?” Sadistic Synth turned off the song on his phone, placed it back in his right pocket, and grabbed Walter’s arms to drag him away.
Walter could feel the carpet floor as Sadistic Synth dragged him along it. His feet brushing the bumps and the rolls that carpet, sometimes, forms. He felt a solid flooring and what sounded like a hallway as he continued to get dragged until he felt himself get placed in a chair, get his body, hands, and feet tied up with rope, and his mouth duct-taped shut to prevent him from shouting. He heard the voices of the others, Killer Jam, Blood Bass, Sadistic Synth, and the grunts and groans from Dead Drum. They laughed and talked about stuff they did last year, but Walter didn’t hear any small details.
Walter noticed Stacy was right next him, unconscious, tied to a chair, mouth duct-taped shut, just like he was. And like Karry, who was on the other side of Stacy, and Harold, who was the farthest from Walter. Walter couldn’t tell where he was, but there was barely enough light in the room to help Walter’s eyes adjust and see his surroundings, only there wasn’t anything to see except for the previous victims of the nappers. Walter wanted to know what their motive was or if they were just doing this because they think it’s fun. Walter prayed that someone would find him and the others, and soon. He could only imagine how long he’d be stuck in a chair before he was found… or before he died.
ns 15.158.61.16da2
