The Pits (Part 5)

More than caught up. Max did a complete three-hundred sixty degree turn to see that he and Simon were surrounded. By this time, Simon was beginning to hyperventilate, but forced himself to slow his breathing. ‘At least Gio got away,’ said Max in his head. Although, he’d much have preferred to have escaped as well. He put his back to Simon’s. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to grab him, even though it was likely to happen anyway. Being back-to-back with Simon was like being backed against a door with another killer on the other side. In other words: not much help.

“What do you guys want?” Simon asked, shocking everyone including himself. Just a minute ago, he was having trouble breathing correctly.

“We want you,” said one of the other cultists with a very feminine, but firm voice.

At the same time, all of the cultists pointed at Simon and Max, repeating the words “We want you”, although they were out of sync. Their voice started low, but grew louder and louder making Max somehow feel as if walls were closing in on him. It didn’t take long before Max couldn’t take it anymore.

“SHUT UP!” he yelled before grabbing Simon’s trembling arm and attempting to run through the circle of people towards the part of the trail that turned left at the fork. He barreled through the two people who had tried to create a wall by standing side-by-side. Simon wasn’t as lucky. The same people grabbed him by the arm that Max wasn’t holding onto, and pulled him away from Max.

Simon’s arm slipped out of Max’s hand, and before he could go back and reach for Simon one of the bigger people in the group picked his friend up and threw him over his shoulder.

“If you want your friend, you’ll come with us,” the big one murmured in the deepest voice Max had ever heard. They stood there staring at Max to see what he would do.

“Run!” Simon yelled to Max. “It’ll be harder for them to catch you now!”

“Bu—”

“Fucking GO!”

For once, Simon was the scariest person around, yelling in a way that Max had only heard once before. Flashbacks of his parent’s worst fight resulting in his father finally leaving them for good played throughout his brain before One of the cultists took a step forward to reach out for Max, who took a quick step back.

“Sorry, Simon…” he said as he turned and ran down the path. ‘I guess I can leave my best friend. Must not be as good a person as I thought I was.’

“Why would you tell him to leave you?” the leader of the cult asked while watching Max run downhill and out of sight.

“No sense us both getting caught,” Simon quietly answered. “Besides, I was keeping something from him, too. So, I guess he and I are even.”

“And what would that be?” The leader turned to face Simon as he lay draped across the large man’s shoulder.

‘I wanted to die, anyway,’ Simon thought returning the leader’s gaze. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It seems to me as if you have a death wish. Most people in your situation would be kicking, screaming, and begging for their friends’ help.”

“I take it you’ve done this before,” Simon said trying to sound as defiant as his friends had earlier in the evening.

“Yes. To everyone here. And it was done to me, as well. I needed to be shown the righteous path.”
            “Great…”

“I would like to show you the same, if you would allow me. We can mentor you and show you how to live a better life.” The cult leader held his hand out toward Simon as if to shake his hand.

Simon stared at the hand in front of him for a second before glaring at the leader.

“I’d rather die.”

The leader lowered his hand, and began walking away. “Gabriel?”

“Yes, Father?” the large man carrying Simon turned to face the leader as he walked away. The man apparently known as Father stopped suddenly, and without turning around, spoke.

“Give him what he wants.”

Father continued to walk back into the woods with a small group of other members of the cult. The other cultists continued after Max, leaving Gabriel alone with Simon.

“Well, come on th—” Before Simon could finish his sentence, Gabriel grabbed Simon by the legs, reared up, flinging Simon over and face-first into the ground. Simon was now blinded with dirt—not that he could see much before this incident—and refused to open his

eyes to face his murderer. He felt Gabriel stomp of his stomach a few times, then felt the large man’s breath against his face.

            “Too bad I have ta kill ya,” he began. “Your kinda cute.”

            Simon could barely cough out a response before Gabriel rolled him over and slammed his face into the rock next to Simon’s head.

            Once…Twice…

            Gabriel then picked up the rock and bashed it against Simon’s major joints, breaking several bones in the process. Simon didn’t feel all of the pain that was being inflicted as he passed out when Gabriel broke his right arm. And soon after, he slowly stopped breathing.

            Gabriel giggled. “When you’re dead, you’ll be a pretty present for Father. Maybe he’ll hang ya up like he did the last guy and I’ll get ta see ya some more.”