The Pits (Part 9)

His heart once again began to beat harder. However, this time he was more angry than afraid. There was a thud, some footsteps, and then the doorknob turned slowly, clicking as the door began to open only enough for the old man to poke his head out.

Max could only see his head, but the look on the man’s face was nearly enough to make Max run for his life. The man had messy, white hair surrounding a bald center. His face was dirty like he’d gotten car oil on himself and tried to wipe some of it off. And his eyes were wide, bloodshot, and unblinking. The murderer didn’t move. He stood still, staring Max down. The two stood in their places for a few minutes in complete awkward silence.

“Meth is a hell of a drug, huh?” Max asked, not able to hold back his sarcastic joke.

“What’re you doin’ in my house?” The man responded.

“You’ve got my friend in there, and I’m not leaving without him.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “He’s my friend, now. You can’t have him,” he said slowly, and quietly.

Max stared at the crazy-eye murderer in bewilderment, never expecting to hear something so childish from a man nearing the age of retirement. “What are you, six?”

“Max?” came a voice from inside the room the man was leaning out of.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Max returned. “I’m gonna get you out of there!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Gio said, his voice wavering as if he was going to cry. “He…*sob*…I’m bleedin’ a lot, man. And I’m feelin’ really cold.”

“Just hang on,” Max felt relieved knowing his friend was alive; however, he felt a new wave of panic when he thought about why Gio could be bleeding so much as to feel cold. It was actually rather warm in the house, and warmer outside since it was summer.

“What did you do to him?” Max asked the old man?

The old murderer opened the door through which he was leaning a bit more, walking through it, and closing it behind him. Max heard a quiet click and knew the man locked the door. The killer’s eyes moved up to the right as if he were thinking about his answer before speaking:

“He tried to get away. Ran all the way to my neighbor’s house. Good friend of mine.”

“No way in hell you have friends,” Max muttered.

“My friend knocked him out and returned him to me,” the old man looked over to the workbench on his left where a bone saw lay, drenched in blood that had begun to coagulate. Max’s eyes followed the old man’s to the area he was looking, and Max’s heart dropped into his stomach when he put the pieces of that fucked up puzzle together in his mind.

The old man continued speaking. “Had to make sure he’d never run away again. Tied him down with rope, but the sucker got loose. Electrocuted him in the tub till he passed out,” The man motioned toward the tub full of disgusting brown water, and with a grin said, “Then took him over to the workbench and cut his legs off.”

Max had already figured that was what was happened, minus the electrocution part. But hearing the man say what he did out loud caused his stomach to churn. He felt nauseous but tried not to think about it. Instead, he focused more on his anger at the old man for torturing his friend and amputating his legs. He was also angry at the old murderer’s so-called friend for giving his Gio to the old man to be killed.

“Hey, Max?” Gio called out, sounding weaker than he had before.

“Yeah?”

“You should just go. I can’t feel anything anyway. Not anymore.”

“Don’t give up! I’m not leaving you here!”

“Max?” By this point Gio sounded just as depressed as he sounded weak.

“Yeah?” Max could sense in Gio’s voice that he wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

“…Where’s Simon?”

Not knowing what he should say, Max decided to go with the truth.

“They…got him.” Now it was Max’s turn to reveal his sadness over their friend’s loss.

Gio didn’t respond, and Max wasn’t sure if he was having a moment of silence for their dead friend, or if it was because he just couldn’t talk anymore. But the silence in the room fueled Max’s anger and seemed like the best time to strike.

Max had the sledge hammer resting on his shoulder as he took a few steps closer to the old man. He stared into the murderer’s eyes which seemed to have dimmed as his hair greyed. The two glared at each other for a few seconds. Then Max kicked the older man in the stomach as hard as he could. The old man doubled over, still trying to stand up. Max brought the hammer down on the man’s head with all the strength he had left hitting the man directly in the back of his head dropping him to the floor. Max stared at the man’s head, watching the blood pour out of his head and coat the floor around it. Then, he braced himself and walked into the back room.