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Post by Llau on Oct 27, 2014 20:40:04 GMT -6
Dark Endeavor
| - A CRY FOR HELP - Alexander Bishop never thought his ex-wife would ever go to him again, much less asking for his help, of all people. Stacey made it quite clear to him that she no longer wanted to see him, and avoided him as much as possible. He wasn't the helpful type, unless it was to his advantage, and not because someone needed it. Although, he probably wouldn't have agreed to help her if he didn't know her or her daughter, Jenny, who went missing a couple of days ago. When Stacey arrived at his apartment, the distraught woman didn't know who else to turn to. She frantically explained to him on how she managed to get into a heated argument with her teenage daughter the night before, and then woke up to find her gone the next morning. She searched everywhere around the Survival Settlement, asking others if they've seen Jenny, but no one did. Nor were they willing to help find one child who probably ran off into the wastelands, like a few of them did. She told him how the soldiers couldn't afford to leave their post, telling her it was more important for them to guard the settlement from attackers than set up a search and rescue for an angry teen. Stacey couldn't believe how no one didn't care about her child, but she knew how Bishop cared for Jenny, and finally decided to get over herself to talk to him. He sat in the old recliner, listening intently while she paced in front of him in the middle of the living room area. Taking a deep breath, he was starting to become annoyed with her pacing back-and-forth.I don't understand why people have to pace around like that...do that shit elsewhere, he thought with a slight frown. “Stacey, can you at least sit down on the couch?” He sighed. Stacey stopped, looking at him worriedly. “What? Oh. Oh, I'm...” She trailed off for a moment, wiping her hands against her jeans before reluctantly taking a couple of steps over to sit down where he told her to sit across from him. “Sorry, Alex...it's just...I'm scared. Worried where my daughter is right now out there.” Bishop nodded a little, quiet as he studied her as if she was some kind of science experiment. While he sat gazing at her as she wiped her red-rimmed eyelids and the fresh tear drops from her tear-stricken face, he was trying to put himself inside her shoes. He wanted to try to feel what she was feeling right now since he never really had emotions like regular human beings. He could pretend to have them, like an experienced actor, but never truly felt them. There were times he was glad he was a psychopath and devoid of such feelings, but once in a blue moon, he wanted to be normal, so he could understand what Stacey was going through right now. “I know, Stacey.” Bishop replied quietly. “See, Alex,” She looked up at him, rubbing her hands together anxiously. “That's funny because you don't know. You don't get it. At all.”“Yeah, that's funny,” Bishop scoffed, looking away as he reached into his pant's pocket to pull out a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. He chuckled lightly as he shook his head in amusement, taking out a cigarette to light it up after putting the light brown end loosely between his lips. He puffed on it, standing up to head into the kitchen area to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge. “Me, telling you that I know, while I allowed you to come in here - after all of this time - to tell me what happened, and asked me for help because no one else will.” He opened the bottle with a bottle opener, and lazily threw the bent lid somewhere onto the small square dinner table that could seat four people, which was covered with other bottle caps that were neatly stacked up five caps in a few rows on one end, while the other end had a chessboard with a complete set of chess pieces ready for another game, next to a book he also salvaged. He headed back over to sit in his recliner, and took a swig of the beer. “I don't know which is funny though. Me, or the assholes out there who aren't like me, not willing to help you.” He stared at her for a couple of moments. “And you call me a monster.”“I've never said - “ She stopped herself, sighed, and looked down in defeat. She did, many times after she found out he was the one who created the virus that nearly wiped the human race off the face of the Earth. He grinned, but said nothing as he continued smoking and drinking. Stacey ran her hands through her hair several times, keeping her head down for about a minute or two, while she whispered to him. “I'm sorry. Today's just been extremely difficult, and I do hope that you can understand that.”“And I hope you can understand that Jenny could be dead for all we know, or worse.”“Worse?” She quickly glared up at him. “What could be worse than being dead, Alex?”Smiling, he raised both eyebrows. “Seriously? Slavers, who probably ran into her and decided she'd make a good slave. Or raiders, who tend to have torture and murder as a hobby. Or cannibals.” He chuckled at that. “I'm sure there's no need to explain about cannibals, hm?” He paused. “Or...those things we saw...”“No, don't,” She shook her head as she remembered what he was going to say. “Don't remind me about those...horrible things.” “Well, there you go, Stacey,” he shrugged, “There are worse things than death out there. You always surprise me on how I have to explain things to you sometimes.” She started to stand up, looking at him in annoyance, before heading toward the door to leave. “Never mind,” She muttered, “I'll just gather up some gear, get a pass, and find her myself.” “I never said I wasn't going to help you,” Bishop simply said, looking down at his cigarette in one hand, and the bottle in the other. He leaned forward, gazing over at her as she had her hand around the doorknob, but has yet to turn it. He tilted his head to the right, and thought about it. “Well...also never said I had any desire to help you either, but...”Stacey turned around, silently staring at him. He walked over to her, and stared back. “I know the area out there a lot better than you.”“You don't think I can find her on my own?”“Stacey,” he shook his head. “You don't have a pass, and you know how hard it is these days to get one since some people ruined it for everyone else to abuse the privilege of having them given freely when asked. Hmm...always disappointing when a few bad apples spoil the whole bunch, right?” A small smile. “Anyway, I have a pass, and I'll look for her. Alone, because you should stay here just in case she makes her way back, and because I prefer going out there alone. Maybe I can find her...maybe some scavenger saw a young girl alone out there somewhere...I don't know. Just...prepare for the worse.” “I know she's alive, Alex,” She stared up at the tall man before her. When he gave her a curious look, she added, “I'm her mother...I just know. Please, just find her.”Nodding, he held the beer bottle and the cigarette in one hand, while resting his free hand on her shoulder; hoping the gesture would help her somehow. “I'll get ready, and I'll start looking for Jenny. Go home, and wait for her there.” She started to protest, but he interrupted her. “Stacey. I mean it. Go home and wait.”
- FRIEND OR FOE -
That was nearly three days ago now since he last spoke to Stacey about Jenny. Bishop had been walking around the wastes, searching around ruined towns near the Survivor Settlement at first, before wandering further away as he searched during the day, and rested at night in a safe area he could find to sleep in. At least it was Fall, but the mild weather won't last long, and soon it will be another extremely cold winter to try to stay warm and survive until Spring time. He slowed down his pace along the road he was walking on, which has seen better days when the state took care of it. He peered down at his wrist-watch to check on the time. 2:58pmA couple of more hours, and it would be dark. Something he was wondering why it was getting dark earlier than it should. Everything was normal until sometime after the whole virus ordeal, with unexplained phenomena and natural disasters. It was as if someone opened the gates of hell, probably him, all things considered. It certainly seemed like it, with some of the things he has experienced; the virus, strange happenings, and those creatures, too. Stacey was right to say that she didn't want to remember what she saw the night they escaped the other Settlement before finding this one. He continued moving south for ten minutes, passing by abandoned vehicles that littered parts of the highway he was on. Most, not all, have been looted in one way or another. Some of them were avoided, and rightly so, due to the decomposed corpses that were mostly still sitting in their seats of their vehicles. No one smart enough would open the doors to these vehicles to take what was inside. The most they did was siphon the gas out of the tanks for fuel, or take the wheels off if they were still good. He noticed as he glanced inside the vehicles, that some were couples, or one person, but mostly families. One family van had a family of eight, and clearly they died from the virus.Bishop studied them quickly. “Huh...” He thought, If I had a heart, I would feel sympathetic on what they dealt with before they died. During the final stages, the CNSB-1 was extremely painful, causing horrible skin lesions and internal bleeding of the organs before the individual was killed by it. These people were probably desperate to leave and see if the military had developed a cure for it based off of rumors, but ended up crashing in vehicle pile ups like this one before dying a excruciating death. Martial Law was in place back then, and civil unrest happened in a lot of places. Needless to say, the virus wasn't the only thing that killed people. He didn't really know what to think of the chaos that was sparked by the killer virus. It was hard to care, but he didn't enjoy seeing how many children perished around the world. He was trained by his adopted father to hunt child murderers and molesters to keep his urges from harming innocent people. If his adopted father was still alive, he'd certainly be irate with him. Maybe even go as far as turning him in for justice. He wouldn't blame him or be angry at him if he were still alive and turned him in. I'm the monster my father trained me to kill. He grimaced a little at the same thought that goes through his mind every-so-often these days. Staring at a body of a small child that was still clutching at a stuffed animal, he finally returned his attention back to the road, and walked away. ***
Twenty more minutes passed, sometimes he hid behind a vehicle or in a covert when he heard a group of people coming in either direction. Raiders or slavers would sometimes drive along in a couple of jeeps they fixed up over time, patrolling around for potential victims. If one is able to hide before being spotted, then they can live another day, or be free from slavery. At least, the more it became dark, the more they'd rather stay inside their camps than venture around the wastes. There were worse things than them, and they knew it. A lot of them weren't stupid – crazy, but not really stupid. They were quite the opposite in fact, and they learned rather quickly, but it depended on the group, and who was leading them.
There was a brief time of not seeing anyone else on the highway, walking or driving. Up the road though, he slowed his brisk walk down some, noticing two figures walking with a grocery cart. One was taller, a man, who was the one pushing the grocery cart in front of him. Beside him was someone shorter, but he couldn't tell who it was exactly from this distance. He kept a watchful gaze on them, making sure he could pull out his Model S&W SD9 VE quickly if he needed it, but kept a calm demeanor as he casually continued to walk.
The man was in his mid-forties, wearing a pair of blue-gray overalls with oil stains in places, biker goggles over his eyes, a red baseball cap, and a messenger bag strapped behind his back. He looked friendly, optimistic even, with a neatly-trimmed goatee, hazel eyes, and messy medium-length dirty blond hair. The smaller figure, a young, seventeen year old girl was silently walking beside him. Her long, ginger hair was at shoulder-length, slightly unkempt, and wearing a dirty pair of blue jeans, a over-sized sweater underneath a zipped-up hoodie with the hood covering her head, and a small knapsack strapped to her shoulders. Her head was down at a slight angle, glancing every now and again at her mismatched tennis shoes she was given to by the man beside her a week ago. Her arms were crossed, hugging herself to probably keep warm from the cold breeze that swept across the flat landscape, while they silently approached Bishop from the opposite direction of the highway.
The girl blinked when she reacted to the “Hmm” from the man, but didn't look at him.
“Look, Darling,” He smiled warmly when he glanced down at her. “A potential customer, rather than one of those gun-totting savages.” He laughed quietly, sounding happy, which he was. “Isn't that lovely? Such a breath of fresh air to not run into someone who isn't a raider. Right? Had enough of that today, haven't we, Darling?”
She didn't want to respond, but did so anyway with a quiet voice that trembled a bit. “Yes, Gary.” Her response was short and simple, and she hoped it would suffice.
Gary nodded, smiling some more. “Hopefully, he's a friendly one...” He whispered, resting a hand behind her neck, which caused her to tense up, but he ignored it. “Don't worry, Darling. I'll protect you.”
Once they were close enough, he gave Bishop a once over. Bishop didn't seem military, or a raider or a slaver. Just another scavenger out here in the wastes, armed to protect himself. Bishop wore thin-rimmed eyeglasses, a black hooded parka, a dark-gray, almost black colored long-sleeved buttoned shirt, olive cargo pants, and hiking boots.
Bishop, on one hand, flicked the velcro strap away from the handle of his handgun, and lightly brushed his fingertips over the side of the handle as he was closer to them. He slowed down, but kept walking toward the two. Gary raised a hand, and smiled.
Great, someone way too friendly for their own good. Bishop didn't care for those types of people out here.
“Hi, there,” Gary said, “We're friendly, buddy. No need to reach for your gun.”
Bishop scoffed a little, “Yeah, sure you are...” He glared at him, and then slowly looked over at the teen, who was hiding behind Gary. His eyes fixed on the older man once more, not bothering to look what he had in his cart full of scavenged supplies.
“Whoa, hey...” Gary smiled again. “Easy-peasy, there, chief. No need to be hostile. Me and my girl here are only traveling merchants. I'm selling junk and other crap, but they may be of use to anyone such as yourself.”
Bishop's eyes shifted from him to the teenaged girl again. “Your girl, huh?”
Gary nodded. “Yes,” he answered, “She's my daughter.”
“Uh huh...” He stared at Gary, deadpan. Not buying it.
The man studied Bishop quietly for a moment; noting his height, standing at 6-foot-3-inches, while he was merely 5-foot-11-inches tall. The former scientist wasn't lanky either, as he maintained a structured athletic physique. Although he seemed normal enough, minus the paranoid outlook on other people's intentions, like Gary's. Appearances could be deceiving, and he realized how hard it was to read Bishop, and noted to move cautiously.
“I know how hard it is to trust people these days, sir,” Gary explained, “But yes, she is my daughter.” He twisted around to wrap an arm around her shoulders to make her move to his side, and not hide behind him. “Darling's just very shy.”
Bishop slowly nodded, glancing over at her. The young woman did look shy, but she also looked pretty scared and skittish to him. He looked at her for a long moment, but then the man caught his attention once more.
“What's your name, if I may ask?”
“Wouldn't you rather persuade me in buying your crap instead of caring to know my name?”
Gary chuckled at that. “Oh, you're a funny guy, sir,” he then asked, “Mind if I call you sir?” When Bishop shrugged his broad shoulders, the man went on, “Well, what we have here is scraps, parts from electronics, plates and silverware, glasses, and other things, like old books, pencils, and the like.”
Bishop glanced down at the cart, and then over at the girl again. “Is that really your name?”
Gary laughed quietly at that. “Of course, it is!”
“I'm not asking you,” Bishop muttered in annoyance, “I'm asking her.”
There was a small smile, gripping her back of the neck a little tighter, but not too tight to cause her to cry out in pain. She did flinch a little.
“Now, now, Darling. Answer the nice man, won't you?”
“Yes,” she whispered unwillingly, “It's my name.”
Bishop looked away, slowly gazing over the junk in the cart, not interested in it at all. “Well, I really don't need to buy anything here...”
“Oh, you can call me Gary, sir.” He smiled.
“Gary? Then why does the name tag on your overalls say Stephen?”
There was a twitch, and then he chuckled. “Oh, that?”
“Yeah...that.”
“Well, Stephen must have been whoever this used to belong to,” said Gary. “I found it a few years ago when I looked around in a gas station for things.” He glanced down at the name tag, and then back up at Bishop.
“I see...” Bishop titled his head, unimpressed. Yeah, he didn't believe him at all. He looked around the area, glancing over to where an abandoned looking rest stop was at not far from where they came from.
“You know, Gary...I do want to ask you one thing.”
“Oh...?” Now Gary was trying not to act nervous.
“Yeah,” Bishop nodded. “I'm looking for someone. A girl, about thirteen. A few inches shorter than her.” He briefly pointed over at Darling.
“Is she your daughter?”
“She's my ex-wife's daughter,” Bishop said, “Her name is Jenny. She went missing a few days ago. I've been trying to find her ever since.”
“Well, sorry, sir,” Gary looked at him sympathetically. “We haven't seen a little girl running around here alone at all yet.” While adding, :We've been too busy dodging slavers and raiders around these parts.”
Nodding, Bishop shifted in his stance, as if he was about to walk away. He looked down at the ground for several seconds, thinking about the girl's demeanor, and smiled somewhat. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he returned his attention onto the both of them.
He sighed. “You know something, Gary? I think you're full of shit.”
Gary bristled at that. “Excuse me?”
“Yeah. I think you're probably a slaver, or some other psycho wastelander who enjoys giving pet names to people.” Bishop stared at him. “Clearly she has better genetics than you, because her face doesn't look like a horse's ass.”
The man spat, “Did you just call me ugly?” He tensed up, growing angry with him.
Bishop nodded gleefully. “I don't believe I stuttered.”
The girl was becoming afraid with what was going on between the two men. She then quickly placed both hands against Gary's chest when she saw him reach for his machete. “Please, let's just go.” She gasped when he pushed her to the side to get her out of his way.
Bishop watched him. “Ooh, a machete, huh? What are you planning on doing with that? Do you even know how to use it?” A pause as he gradually smirked. “You don't look it.”
“Fuck you, pretty boy,” Gary hissed.
“Gary...please...” whimpered the teenager.
“Be quiet, Darling,” He snapped at her. When she cowed a little, he gazed back at Bishop.“I think I'll just skin your face off and use it as a mask.”
“Oh?” Grinning, Bishop dared him in a low graveled voice, “I like to see you try.” He could unholster his gun, put a bullet between the man's eyes, and end it right then and there. The thing is, he didn't want to waste it.
Gary yelled out incoherently in a rage, something along the lines of “I'll kill you!”
Holding the machete in one hand as he tried to attack Bishop, but he quickly found himself on his back, looking up at the sky and disarmed. The younger man side-stepped and grabbed him by the wrist of his knife-hand to use his momentum against him and threw him to the ground. Feeling slightly disorientated, and not noticing that Bishop snapped his wrist when he disarmed him yet, Gary started to turn over, but only to be roughly kicked in the stomach; the action caused him to cry out in pain, and made the girl shout something at Bishop.
“Stop it!” She shouted, feeling much more scared and started to panic a little. Deep down, she knew Gary wasn't her father, let alone a relative. He bought her from a group of slaves almost a month ago, told her he wasn't a slaver, and wanted to free her, but he was using her for his own purposes.
For his own, twisted purposes, and pretending to be a merchant. Part of her was glad that someone finally didn't believe the man, because he would've asked Bishop to come along with them, and then knock him out and make her take his things and restrain him before bringing him back to their stronghold. Strangely though, she'd been a captive for so long, that she developed some kind of attachment to Gary, and wanted to protect him somehow, and didn't want to see him get hurt. She didn't know why either, but she just wanted to.
“Don't hurt him! Please!” She pleaded.
Bishop glanced at her in disbelief. The hell is wrong with her? He thought, looking away to keep an eye on Gary, who was clutching at his stomach and groaning as he laid on his side.
“You asshole,” Gary said through clenched teeth. “When I get up...”
Bishop smirked, glancing at the machete that was now in his hand. “Hmm. Thanks for the weapon, by the way, Gary. I've always wanted one.”
Chuckling lightly, he lowered the weapon, taking a step closer to him while putting the machete into his backpack. He eyed the messenger bag, and slowly, his smile faded the more he looked at it. He breathed in a sigh, taking a couple of steps toward him, but before he could ask about it, he suddenly glanced over at the girl when he saw movement out the corner of his eye.
The teenager abruptly stopped, staring back with wide eyes filled with fear. She looked like a damn deer to him, caught in the headlights; unable to move or think to get to safety. After having a slight angry expression on his face, she backed off a little, but still seemed to want to fight him. He looked away just as Gary tried to send a kick toward the back of his knee to sweep him off of his feet. It probably would have worked if the girl kept his attention, too, but Bishop was quick to react. He grabbed the man's boot with both hands, and pivoted around as he twisted his ankle in the opposite direction; snapping the cartilage of the ankle.
Gary howled in agony, reaching down to hold his broken ankle after Bishop released him. “Aaarrgh! You bastard! You broke my ankle! He broke my ankle, damn it!”
The girl reacted to this, and rushed to try and help Gary. She tried jumping on Bishop's back to wrap her arms around his neck and choke him, but she was too short to be able to. So, she started pounding at his back helplessly and screaming. He whirled around to face her, and grabbed her by the wrists, trying not to hurt her.
“Stop...stop it,” He said to her mildly, but she continued to struggle to hit him, and was crying in frustration. “Calm down...calm down.” She kept fighting, trying to hit him, but her desperation was dwindling, and she was panting in between her sobbing. He was much stronger than her, and could have easily broken both of her wrists. If she was someone else, like Gary, he would have, but he didn't. He had no reason to.
Her knees were shaking, and she felt sort of week as she stood there with him still having a secure grip on her arms. She was crying somewhat hard, pleading him to not hurt Gary by name. It was...well, he didn't know what to think, except it was bizarre.
While he waited for her to stop crying, behind him, Gary wasn't able to fight anymore, as he was still clutching his ankle, and cursing at Bishop; making death threats and swearing at him. Once she calmed down enough, and was a little more coherent, he was about to ask her a question when he heard Gary freak out about seeing a Jeep heading their way.
“Shit, shit!” Gary exclaimed with a voice mixed with fear and pain. “They're coming back. Those fuckers are coming back!”
Bishop looked around until he saw the vehicle slowly making it's way toward them. “Wonderful...” He said grimly. He glanced down at the girl, and released his hold on her. He pointed toward the rest stop, and whispered urgently, “Run toward the rest stop over there.”
“No,” she cried, “I'm not leaving.”
“Don't leave me here, you asshole!” Gary chimed in quickly after overhearing him tell her to run.
“Don't argue with me.”
“I'm not leaving without Gary.”
“Go. Now.” He demanded. “Don't worry. I won't leave him here.” He still wanted to ask him about the messenger bag he was wearing.
She hesitated, looking down at Gary as if she was waiting for his permission to run and hide over at the building. “Go!” She jumped, Bishop startling her. Nodding, she ran off toward the direction of the rest stop, leaving both of the men alone.
Gary harshly warned him, “You better not leave me here, you fucker.” Panting, he struggled to sit up, and leaned against the side of a car. “You hear me? Huh?! Leave me here, and you'll be sorry.”
Bishop slowly looked down at him indifferently. “Gary. You're not exactly in the position to threaten me, you unintelligent, little shit.”
He glanced back at the Jeep. It was getting closer, but the driver was driving pretty slow; probably searching again. At least he was behind a moving truck, so they couldn't see him, or Gary for that matter.
“I swear...if you do leave me here, I will tell them about you and the bitch.”
If he didn't have any use for him, Bishop would kill him, but the man had answers, and he needed to know exactly where he got the messenger bag. The same type of bag that belonged to Jenny. How did he know? Her initials were on it, along with a little cartoon character he remembered that she drew one day to let people know it was hers.
“Say goodnight, Gary.” Bishop stared at him, smiling a bit.
“Wha-?”
- STRANGE HAPPENINGS - Bishop flicked Gary's hat off to grab a handful of his hair, while he started throwing hard jabs with his right repeatedly until his knuckles were covered with blood. He then switched hands, and threw a few hooks with his left hand, and then finish him off with a hard kick to his bloodied face; knocking him unconscious. Panting slightly from the excursion, he straightened up for a few seconds to catch his breath before picking the man up and place him over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, and then headed over to the building to hide in there with the girl. When he arrived, she was waiting for them, and once she saw what became of Gary, she became upset.“Gary!” She demanded, “What did you do to him?”Bishop grunted, heading into the men's room, with her following him inside. When she repeated her question, he briefly turned to her before walking over to the far side of the room. “Shut-up and lock the door behind you.”“Did you kill him?”“No. Now lock the damn door.” He grunted and laid Gary's unconscious body to the floor, while she went to do what she was asked to do. Nearly out-of-breath from carrying him all the way over to the rest stop as fast as he could, he placed his hands on his hips, and glanced around. The restroom was filthy, covered in dirt and grime; along with a few old mattresses, and other junk left behind by the previous owners that could have only been raiders with the amount of torture tools still laying around. They must have left in a hurry, or were killed off somewhere. Didn't matter now, and the only thing that did, is to keep from being caught by whoever was out there in the vehicle, and if they don't come over to where they are at and look for them if they did happen to see him heading here. Running his fingertips over his beard, he glanced over toward the wall that hid the door from view, and sighed when she didn't appear. “You didn't leave did you?” He wondered, standing there again with his hands to his hips. He heard her mutter a “no”, and then asked, “Did you lock the door?”There was a long pause, but she answered in a low voice again. “Yes...”“Okay,” Bishop sighed, “Why don't you move away from the door, and sit where I can see you? I won't hurt you.”“You've hurt Gary...how do I know you won't hurt me?” She asked him, her voice small and fearful. He stood there, sighing again as he glanced around as he thought about how he could speak to her without making her even more scared of him. He rubbed at his face a few times, and ran his fingers through his hair before gradually walking over to where she was. Looking down behind the wall, he found her sitting in the corner by the door way with her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Staring down at her, he hesitated to speak with her, but eventually did in a low whisper. What do adults do with kids? They squat down, so they can be at eye-level, which makes them less frightened. He thought to himself, at least that is what his father taught him. He cautiously lowered himself so he could be at eye-level with her; his height was intimidating to most people, and he knew that. He was quiet, watching her as she sat there in silence as well, looking down at his knuckles that were still covered in blood. He lightly rubbed at his hands, as he quietly spoke to her. “He's going to be out for a while,” he told her, “Ten...fifteen minutes, give or take.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting over to where Gary was, who was still laying on the floor, out cold. “I won't force you, but you do need to stay away from the door, and be where I can see you.”“No,” she protested, “You'll hurt me too.” “There's certain individuals I will hurt who fall on a different spectrum. Ones that harm children in any way shape or form,” He explained. “Call it an...honor system...to...control myself. I won't harm you at all.”“Why did you hurt Gary...?”“For one, he tried to attack me,” Bishop went on, “I was defending myself. Two, he has something that belongs to someone I know, and I want to know how he got it when he lied to me that you and him didn't see her.” While adding, “You know who I'm talking about, don't you?”She looked away. “Please, tell me.”She slowly shook her head. “I didn't see her...”Bishop breathed in a sigh. “Is that true, or did he make you say that if anyone asks?” She shook her head again. “No.”“Which one?”The girl practically shouted, “I didn't see her, alright?” Frowning, he whispered harshly, “Keep your damn voice down, kid.” He warned her. “There are an unknown amount of people out there who are looking for potential victims, and I don't want to deal with them right now.”BANG!The sudden, loud banging of a door startled the two, and when she started to let out a scream, he instinctively leaned over and covered her mouth with his hand to silence her. Faces inches apart, he stared into her eyes, and with his free hand, he placed his pointer finger up against his lips to silently tell her to be quiet. Both of them were panting, heart-pounding in their chests; pumping the blood quicker in their veins due to the sudden sound that came from inside the restroom. “Stay there, and don't move.” He whispered as low as he could to her. “Nod if you understand.” She nodded, and he moved back, slipping his handgun out of its holster, and then slowly moving his hand away from her mouth – a bit surprised that she didn't try to bite his hand. He gave her a brief glance before standing up to investigate the noise. First thing he did, was check to see if Gary was still down. He was, so he carefully walked forward as quietly as he could toward the middle of the restroom, and gazed at the four restroom stalls. Each of them still had their doors on their hinges, and all of them were left ajar. Slowing his breathing, he went down briefly to his hands and knees to check all of them for feet, and found nothing. Doesn't mean no one is there...could be standing on the toilet seat to hide for all I know, he thought. He inhaled as he stood up to check out the first stall. Cautiously opening it with his free hand, while aiming the gun, he breathed out a little when he found nothing in there. The air around him made him feel uneasy and tensed, even receiving chills; though, he just brushed it off due to his nerves and how dead silent it was after hearing the banging sound. A lot of thoughts were going through his mind as he moved to check the next stall, but found nothing there, too. He paused, swallowing hard, and then breathed out the breath he held after checking the first stall. When he exhaled, he noticed he could see his breath. “What the...?” he murmured, slightly bewildered. Now, the uneasiness, feeling tensed, and feeling cold were gradually becoming worse, but he kept brushing it off, while he made himself check the next stall over. There was a faint odor coming out from the stall, and when he glanced down at his feet when he felt the bottom of his boot stepping in something thick and wet, he blinked. Beneath his foot was a large puddle of blood leaking out of the stall that wasn't there before. The fuck?! He silently stared at it, and then quickly opened the door to find a dead raider sitting on the toilet, hunched over slightly. The whole inside of the stall was covered in blood from the brutal attack. The raider looked as if an animal ripped him apart, still somewhat fresh too. Shit... His eyes darted from the dead raider to where he left the girl, and then over to Gary, who was still fortunately unconscious. No way could the dead man be able to hit the door. His mind frantically tried to reach for a logical explanation for the sound they heard. Did something really bang on one of these doors really hard, or was it air in one of the pipes in the restroom that made it? While he was contemplating on what exactly the two heard in here, he went to check the last one. He went to open the door, but it was locked. Frowning for a moment, he was going to kick the door open when someone on the other side hit the door hard again. BANG!His eyes grew wide with a mixture of fear and alertness. “Holy shit...!” He staggered back a little, aiming the gun as he held it in both hands toward the locked stall door. BANG! BANG! BANG!He backed up a couple of more times, his eyes glued on the last stall he wanted to search. He could hear the girl muffle her frightened cries, but she was too scared to move from her spot by the entrance.Then silence...the same dead silence that followed the first time the sound happened. Still aiming his gun, his eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a low growl before he kicked the door open. He expected to find someone there, hiding, and waiting to attack him, but once again, there was no one. He stared, and stared, and stared at the empty stall before him, unable to comprehend what the hell was going on, and why there wasn't anything there. He murmured, "What...?"Panting through parted lips, he slowly shook his head, slowly lowering his weapon, and held it at his side, while he pressed his thumb and both his pointer and middle finger against his closed eyelids, and grimaced. He laughed nervously, banishing his anxiety and fear of what he was experiencing to feel courage in the face of the unknown; or at least he wished it. He was a difficult one to feel any sort of fear, rather apathetic of it and for those around him who he would end up being angry at and telling them to pull themselves together. Or enjoying it when someone was frightened, depending on who it was. Now, he was the one feeling anxious, scared, and he didn't understand it, but mostly due to the atmosphere around him inside this building. “Am I seriously losing my mind here? What the fuck?” He muttered in disbelief at no one in particular.Glancing up, he started to rub at his beard, mostly along his chin, thinking deeply at what transpired. He still trying to find a logical conclusion of the noise, especially near the end of the small row of stalls. Slowly shaking his head in disbelief, he stepped away from the stalls to turn around. At first, he didn't notice, still squandered in his thoughts, and hen he gazed over at the row of mirrors before him, he couldn't move, nor speak. His hand that was rubbing his beard dropped to his side as he stared at what appeared to be a woman who was crouching by the wall, opposite of the mirrors, and staring back at him. The woman appeared to be older than the girl, with long, shoulder-length black hair, and clearly malnourished, pale, and sunken features. The more he looked at her, the more he felt nauseous, and the other negative feelings he felt earlier, yet worse. The air seemed colder, like it was in the middle of winter. Every muscle in his body tensed as he shivered, and it seemed like it was getting harder to breathe. He tried to move, but he felt paralyzed, and the more he struggled, his breathing became difficult, the more he stared at her. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her, and he soon realized that it wasn't the cold, it was fear...fear caused by the woman, whoever – whatever – she was. “Uhn!” He abruptly felt a shot of pain going through his abdomen, like someone stabbing him with a knife and twisting it in his stomach. “What...the...hell?” He grunted, doubling over in pain. He let out an excruciating howl when it became more agonizing as he felt as if someone stabbed him in the abdomen several more time. His knees gave out, and he dropped to the floor, and continued to scream. The pain was swiftly followed by a warm liquid, and he managed to look away from the woman to see what happened. He let out a panicked, low cry as he watched blood streaming down from a deep wound. Gasping, and breathing quickly, blood began to flow out of his mouth as he gradually crawled toward where the woman was. He managed to crawl somewhat, collapsed onto the blood-soaked tiled floor. Grimacing and groaning in pain, Bishop painstakingly used what was left of his upper-body strength and legs to continue crawling on his stomach. He was soon feeling hot, and eventually started to hear a ringing in his ears. A sure sign that he was about to pass out from the loss of blood. Just before he did, he looked at her, and saw a small smile spread across her face; a visible eye that wasn't hidden behind her long hair glowed red. He stopped crawling, staring at her in shock and disbelief, before the ringing in his ears became more apparent, and eventually, blacked out. - BONDING TIME - Several minutes after he passed out, the girl sitting over by the door finally had enough courage to stand up from her hiding place, and slowly walk around the wall to see what caused Bishop to scream like he was being murdered. She was still hugging her self, scared out of her mind, but her curiosity was more than her fear. First, she glanced down at Bishop when she nearly tripped over him, and then looked toward Gary, who seemed fine from where she was standing. Next, she returned her attention on Bishop, who was laying on his stomach on the floor near the wall that she was hiding behind earlier. She studied him quietly, noticing that he was still breathing. There was no blood, no signs of him being killed by anyone, let alone anyone else inside the building. The woman Bishop encountered was no longer there. The teenager saw something leave, a dark shadow of some sort. It looked humanoid in appearance, but she didn't get a good look at it, seeing as she was hiding her face in her hands, and silently wishing for it to leave. Before it left, it did stand in front of her, and breathed down her neck for a moment. It made low growling noises as it breathed, and then vanished out of thin air. Gazing around the restroom, she slowly went over to sit in the corner by the sinks, where she could easily keep an eye on both of the unconscious men, and wait for them to wake up. ***
The ringing and the pulsating sound of his heart in his ears faded thirty seconds or after he passed out, but he laid there, feeling too tired and weak to move once he gradually regained consciousness. He heard light footsteps approaching, and then felt someone nearly trip over him, but he was too weak to move, nor cared to at the time. His mind was trying to figure things out, but his thoughts went on a tangent as memories of his past were brought up over and over – from his troubled childhood, to college life, meeting Stacey and Jenny, and then – His eyes shot open. He stared at the wall where the woman once was, and kept staring for almost a minute before his eyelids flickered a few times before closing. He groaned, laying there for a few several more minutes, and then turned over onto his back. Staring at the ceiling in confusion, he realized he was dreaming, but was also confused with what happened. The last thing he remembered was collapsing and blacking out. He blinked his eyelids quickly again, trying to get rid of the blurred vision, and let out a long sigh, while trying to recollect what happened.
“Are you...okay...?” whispered a tiny voice over to his left.
Bishop dozed off a little, but eventually turned his head to glance over and stared for a moment. He thought in surprised acknowledgment, She's actually still here...huh.
He still felt too weak to talk, and opt to say nothing for a while as he gazed back to stare at the plaster of the ceiling that was in disrepair. As he silently hoped for the tiredness, weakness, and the confusing state he was in to go away though, his mind suddenly flashback to seeing the naked, pale woman, and then it was like his body was reminded of being stabbed during the flashback to that moment. He suddenly turned over onto his side, facing the teen as he curled up a little to look down when he lifted his shirt up to reveal his abdomen. Visually, there was no blood, but he instinctively reached to run his hand over where he was stabbed to make sure he was okay.
He was.
He stared, bemused. I was hallucinating...? That was one fucked up hallucination. He started chuckling a little when he finally realized it was a hallucination, and not real; though, it truly did felt real to him earlier when everything became clear to him.
Letting out a sigh of relief and amusement, he sat up, and leaned against the wall, adjacent to the girl. His amused expression was quickly replaced with an empty one when he started watching Gary.
I wonder if I killed him...? His bit his lower lip and tilted his head slightly to the right. “Hmm.” If so...well...whoops.
“I think the raiders are gone...” The girl mentioned, reminding him of the reason they ran in here to hide.
He gave her a knowing glance, and weakly shrugged. “Go figure.”
“Are you okay?”
He glanced over at her. “Why are you asking me if I'm okay?”
Shrugging, she replied, “I don't know...”
“You don't know?” He stared at her for a minute, then kept his eyes on Gary.
Although, he couldn't help to stare over at the restroom stalls and have some kind of uneasy feeling wash over him. There was no fresh blood on the floor he stepped in to look into the stall with the dead raider inside, and the raider was gone as well. He couldn't stop thinking about the violent banging sound, the raider, but mostly the pale woman. He pressed a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes, and moaned a little.
“I'm tired...annoyed...and I feel like shit right now,” He then said, “Does that answer your question?”
She silently nodded, but he still had his hand over his eyes to see that it did; though, he took her silence as a yes. He leaned forward a little, sitting cross-legged, and took his eyeglasses off to set them on the floor in front of him. He then propped his elbows on his knees and covered his face with both hands. The girl continued to stare at him, wanting to help him, but was still very afraid of him. He seemed dangerous to her, like everyone else, and she was helpless if he tried to hurt her. A little part of her though didn't think he was a danger to her, but she was still worried about Gary's safety, and what Bishop might do to him whenever he wakes up.
She jumped a little when he moved, but relaxed when he was only leaning back against the wall again. Putting on his glasses, he stared across to where the other man was, and waited to see if he'd wake up soon. It seemed like forever since he knocked him out, but only fifteen minutes passed. Chewing lightly on his bottom lip, he stared over at his backpack that was on the floor nearby. The more he thought about the woman, and the stabbings, the more he remembered about his days in the Delta Science and Research Facility. He worked long hours there, and very little time off. It was sometimes difficult to control his dark urges, seeing as the facility was out in the middle-of-nowhere in Montana. Working on his project did help keep his mind off of things, but it only worked to an extent. It wasn't like he was in some busy town or city like he was growing up and through his college years, where he could easily pick and choose which child molester or killer to kill. Once in a while though, something did come up in some of the towns in Montana. Especially one that had this one town horrified and on edge.
“Heh.” He let out a short chuckle, gaining the girl's curiosity.
“What's so funny?”
“How people in small town America always seem to be so shocked when something bad happens in places like that,” He grinned and shook his head. “Or, how people are horrified to learn that someone who they thought they knew was really evil.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because the human race can be completely ignorant, but hey...ignorance is bliss apparently.” He slowly shook his head again and sighed, desiring to light a cigarette and smoke.
While he was rummaging in his pockets for his lighter and pack of cigarettes, she questioned him quietly.
“What happened?”
“What do you mean what happened?” He lit a cigarette that was now in between his lips, and then looked at her as he inhaled the smoke. “In here, or what I meant with the whole small town bullshit?”
“The small town.”
“Okay,” he smiled somewhat. “Tell me your name, and I'll tell you a story.” Exhaling the smoke through his nostrils, he added, “And don't say it's 'Darling', okay? Anyone can smell the bullshit off of that a mile away, girl.”
He watched as she slowly looked down at her clasped hands in her lap, and didn't answer him for a good whole minute or two. He waited, smoking quietly, while looking back over at Gary when the man started groaning a little, but didn't seem to wake up yet.
Huh. I didn't kill him then...He smiled darkly at that. Good.
“Niome.”
He looked. “Niome?”
Nodding, she whispered, “Yeah...Niome.” A long pause, and she nervously asked him, “Yours?”
“Alexander,” he said, “It's Alexander Bishop. Alex or AJ for short.”
“The younger slaves at the slavers' compound used to call me Alex.”
“Really?” He stared at her for a moment and smirked. “You don't look like an Alex...” He shrugged when she shrugged in response to that, and took another huff of his cigarette, exhaled, and tilted his head back to rest it against the wall he was leaning on.
Sitting there, he couldn't decide if she was just fucking with him or telling the truth. I know one thing, he thought, she's broken, like me.
“As promised,” He explained, “Apparently, earlier I was hallucinating...not exactly sure why though...” He trailed off, letting out a low chuckle. “It's all sorts of fuckery but, before I blacked out, I saw a woman. It was weird, but I can't stop thinking about her, which is even more strange. The more I think about her, the more I remember about...”
He stopped again, this time wondering if he should even tell her about his secrets. Not that anyone would bother turning him into the authorities since there are no more police officers, but military authorities. Even then, they still don't care what anyone does outside the fortified walls build around the settlements they guard. It's what people do on the inside that they will bother to handle. Still though, he wondered if he should. Then again, it wasn't like he had to tell her the whole story.
He went on, “There was a small town in particular I visited on the weekends when I was off work. Not too many people lived there, and it was nice and quiet. It was a vast contrast from what I was used to, and yet, I liked it.” He admitted. “They were welcoming, warm and friendly, and hard-working families, right? Plus, they had really good food and coffee at this one diner in town that I ended up frequenting while staying at a small motel there.”
“How many people lived there?” asked Niome, becoming genuinely interested in what he was telling her. It was...nice to finally have a normal conversation with someone for once. Unlike with Gary, who talked about things that made her feel uncomfortable. She shuddered, thinking about some of them.
Bishop thought about her question. “One hundred people, I think. Perhaps less than that.” He glanced over at her. “The town was small enough where everyone knew everyone, and they remembered your name, and remembered how you took your coffee.” A pause. “It seems like quite a perfect place, right?”
He chuckled when she nodded her head. “All towns have their secrets...some darker than others. Sometimes, it's not so fun being caught in the middle of it. Especially when those secrets are young people being murdered, and the town starts pointing fingers. Then they start suspecting you were the one doing it because you only visit on the weekends.”
“...You weren't the one though, right?”
Bishop's eyebrows furrowed at that. “No,” he responded, “I wouldn't harm a kid.”
“Were they really accusing you of murder?”
Bishop nodded, quietly thinking, Murder people who deserve it: child rapists, molesters, and murderers, and no one bats an eye. Stay at a bed and breakfast on the weekends in a small town, and everyone loses their shit. He shook his head in annoyance. Oh the irony.
He closed his eyelids, and spoke, “This happened back in the summer of two thousand and thirteen...a year before the whole virus outbreak. I needed some time away to myself on the weekends, since where I worked at, we were under constant surveillance. Not in our dormitories, but...just needed some peace and quiet, and be away from the people I worked with and for. My bosses allowed me to leave on the weekends, as long as I didn't talk about what I did there with anyone outside of the company.”
Niome asked, “What did you do?”
“I worked with the government,” He was vague with his answer, but he didn't care. “Being the head researcher of a project for the government tends to give you a lot more freedom and trust with the big wigs.” He continued, “The closest town was Terry, which was a six hour drive from where I worked at. Like I said to you earlier, Terry was a pretty small town, and rather peaceful with friendly town-folks. There was one motel just outside of it, where I stayed at during the weekends, and while I relaxed there, I went to the town diner in the middle of town, called Schlep's. It was opened twenty-four hours, so I went there whenever I was hungry or needed some coffee.” He let out a short chuckle. “The coffee at the motel wasn't that good, but at least everything else there was nice.”
“For three months I hang out in Terry, and during the summer, was when the disappearances started,” He sighed, parting his eyelids for a moment to see if she was paying any attention. She was, and he closed them again to continue in between smoking his cigarette. “One little girl went missing, who was no more than six-years-old. Then sometime in the week, her body turns up, laying neatly beside the road. She was naked, with weird carvings over her skin, as well as several deep puncture wounds done by some kind of dagger to her abdominal region.”
He had to pause, remembering the photographs the town sheriff and deputy practically forced into his face when they questioned him inside their office. It pissed him off seeing what someone did to those kids, and he was stuck in there not being able to find out who it was and getting rid of them, while the two asshole police officers – the only ones in the small town – were wasting their time with him.
“The parents of the little girl were horrified with what happened to their daughter,” He said, “Everyone was at the victim's funeral that day.”
“Did you go?”
“Hell no,” Bishop scoffed, “I hate funerals, and it would be odd if a stranger went to the girl's funeral, now would it?”
Niome nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Besides, I was working when they had it.”
“The whole down was discussing about the abduction and murder when I did return for another weekend stay at the motel,” He sat up a little, looking over at her. “While I was sitting at the bar inside the diner during dinner time, reading their newspaper about it, another child went missing.”
“How?” She wondered. “Wouldn't the parents be more careful after the first one?”
“One would think anyone with half a brain would be more vigilant around their children in their small town so nothing will happen to them,” He shook his head in disappointment. “See, Niome. A lot of people have that 'It will never happen to me or my family' mentality, and then it happens to them. Then when it does happen to them, they blame their negligence on other people.” A small grin spread over his lips. “Like the police.”
“People are stupid.”
Grinning, he nodded. “And then the typical knee-jerk, emotional reaction is to blame others for the crime.”
“Like you.”
He chuckled quietly in amusement. “Yeah, like me.”
“What did you think when they accused you?”
“I'll get to that, don't you worry,” He smiled, and then continued telling her the story. “Uhm...where was I?”
“About another missing child...”
“Right. This time, it was a six-year-old boy from another area in town. They found him a couple of days later with the same markings and cause of death. I couldn't even make it out of the diner, because just about everyone was in there talking about what they wanted to do about it. The sheriff and his deputy came in, and tried to calm everyone down before they went on a wild witch hunt.”
He gazed back over to where Gary was, watching the man lay motionlessly on the floor.
“Before they ordered everyone to return to their homes, they decided to have a curfew. The next day, the child killer didn't wait...and there was another child that went missing. It was on a Sunday, so I was getting ready to leave. Packed my bag, and stopped by the diner to order a coffee-to-go to drink during my way back. Some of them were staring at me...like they were shooting lightening bolts out of their eyes at me type of look. I tried to ignore them, but the waitress who was nice to me before, was doing it too.”
He shook his head slightly. “It sucked. Having everyone glaring at you like they wanted you dead. The waitress told me that she had to make a fresh pot of coffee, and it would be a few minutes. When she disappeared, I'm sure she was the one who called the sheriff, since he showed up by the time the coffee would have finished.”
He sighed, looking over at her as he remembered how annoying it was to deal with them during that time, and up until he was able to call for someone who worked at the facility to get him out of the holding cell.
“Why didn't you just leave?”
He gave her a look. “Leaving would have made things worse for me. Plus, it makes people look guilty or more guilty, and I didn't want to deal with that.” He went on after she nodded in understanding.
“Anyway, they arrest me, put me into the back of their car, and take me back to the police station where they interrogate me. The deputy shows me the photographs they took of the crime scenes and the victims' bodies; probably to try to get me to react some how. I'm rather desensitized to dead bodies, so it didn't shock me at all. It did piss me off seeing those dead kids.”
His eyebrows furrowed as far down as they could go, and he stopped talking for a couple of minutes after that. Focusing more on something else, and looked like he was in some kind of daze.
Niome watched him, becoming even more curious, and wanting him to continue talking to her. He looked like he was about to shut down after that. “Um...” She murmured, bringing herself into a sitting position like his, and leaning slightly forward. She stared directly at his face, hoping he would look at her and go on. “Alex?”
He blinked, eyes shifting over to look down at her, and then he turned his head completely. “What?”
“What happened to you in the police station?”
His eyes darted from her, to the floor, and then back at her, while he lightly rubbed his hands together. Shaking his head, he answered her, “The deputy asking me questions ended up breaking my ring finger because I kept saying I wasn't the one who killed those kids. I hate dealing with people who are in denial of the truth, and are quick to focus their blame game on someone...a scapegoat.” He paused, looking down at his left hand and remembered how the officer held his hand down against the table, and broke his finger after practically yelling the same question five or six times into Bishop's ear.
He then silently thought with a murderous gaze, He was very lucky that I don't go after people like him after I was released...
The more he talked with her, the more she was feeling slightly more comfortable around him. She was starting to enjoy him speaking to her, as it was nice that someone would talk to her about something intriguing like his past. While it was quiet between them, she looked down at the floor, and finally gained enough courage to talk to him about something that bothered her. Niome's small voice brought him back, and he gazed back at her when she spoke to him reluctantly.
“Um...can I...” she hesitated, but managed to say the rest of her question. “Can I....tell you something...?”
Bishop stared at her curiously, thinking for a moment, and then gave her a nod. “Of course.”
“It's about Gary...”
- THE MONSTERS INSIDE US -
“What about him?”
“What he talked about with me,” she started, “About how I'm only good enough as a slave and would be worthless if I was anything else. How he would like to...” She shuddered, shaking her head to dismiss one of the things he told her.
Bishop, though, was quick to figure out what she probably meant with that. “What else did he say to you?”
“He told me...what we were doing, was for the good of the wasteland, and wanted me to not be afraid of what he does to people who he tries to get to travel with us. He wanted me to stop refusing to eat human flesh, or he'll force me to eat it when we got back to the building he and his group live in.”
Now, Bishop was sitting there, hunched over slightly with his hands clasped together, elbows propped over his knees, and his right cheek resting against the back of his left hand. His eyes were laser focused on Gary's form across the room again when she explained to him what Gary has said to her.
Without looking at her, he asked, “What did he do when you refused?”
Niome hesitated again, but this time a little longer. “He hurt me...kicked me a few times, calling me worthless...and a horrible slave who needed to mind her master...”
He gradually looked over at her, and their eyes fixed. From that moment on, she noticed something different about him, but couldn't describe it, except it was scary, threatening, but not anything directed at her. He lightly rubbed at his beard, and then gave her a small smile.
After a good minute, he announced, “I think...I'm going to hold off on telling the rest of the story for later,” He climbed to his feet and stared over at the man. She looked up at him, feeling so small from her sitting position on the floor. He was so tall compared to some of the people she met, Gary included. “Our friend here had a long enough nap.”
His voice, when telling her that, was deeper, scary-sounding to her, and it made her break out in goosebumps, and she slightly shuddered. She made eye contact with him when he glanced down at her, and then he headed off toward Gary. First, he paused by the sinks, spotting an empty bucket underneath one of the sinks in the corner and picked it up. He walked over with it in his hand, and disappeared into one of the stalls to fill it up with the toilet water, and then went over to stand in front of Gary as he poured it over the man's face; smirking when he woke with a start – coughing and gasping for breath.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” He turned the bucket upside down and sat it down on the floor to use it for a make-shift chair. Sitting down on it near him, he slapped the man in the face when Gary leaned against the wall lazily. “Come on...that's it. Quit coughing and focus on my voice. Focus your eyes on me. Come on.” He made a couple of sounds that one would do toward a pet, rubbing his fingertips of one hand together to get his attention; treating the man as if he were a dog.
Gary continued coughing, looking around in a daze, but then slowly started to stop choking on the water Bishop poured over his face, and gradually became slightly more aware.
While he waited, Bishop smiled a little. “That's it,” He said in a disturbingly mild manner; though, it wasn't very friendly or caring at all. “Deep breaths and breathe. That's it...you can do it.”
Gary focused up at him, coughing once or twice as he cradled his injured wrist that Bishop injured when he disarmed him.
“You...” he sneered, “You fucker...where is she?”
“Safe and sound.”
“You piece of shit,” Gary snarled, trying to move to see where Niome was, but couldn't due to Bishop sitting in front of him. “You're lying to me. You probably did something to her.”
Bishop sat there, staring at him without emotion. He then called out to the girl as he kept his eyes on him. “Niome. Be a dear and tell him how you're doing for me, please?”
Niome stared at Bishop's back, inhaled a shuddering breath of air, and answered him, “I'm here. I'm okay.”
Bishop tilted his head ever-so-slightly. “You see,” he leaned closer to him to whisper, “I may be a monster, but we're not the same, you and I.”
He managed to get somewhat of a reaction out of the man, but not too much, as he expected. Panting slightly in pain, Gary tried to talk to her instead. “Darling...sweetheart...this guy is the reason why we are wanting to clean the wasteland. He's the reason why it's a dangerous place.” He soon pretended to be scared, and pleaded, “You have to help me.” When he didn't get a response from her, he practically flipped his lid.
“DARLING! YOU BETTER FUCKING HELP-!”
He gasped in pain when Bishop suddenly grabbed him by the mouth, pressing his fingers tightly into the fleshy part just beneath his cheeks, and forced the older man to look at him. “Niome doesn't want to talk with you. So, you aren't going to.”
When Gary glared and started to curse at him, he let out a muffled scream when he felt more pressure as he squeezed his cheeks harder; pressing his fingertips upward against the cheekbones.
Bishop inquired in a calm voice. “Where did you find the messenger bag you were using?” He lessened his grip so the man could answer him.
“I'm not telling you nothing.”
A disappointed sigh as Bishop squeezed as hard as he could. “I'll ask again...” he repeated, “Where did you find the messenger bag you were using?”Once more, he loosened his grip over his mouth for him to answer.
“Fuck. You.” Gary hissed between his teeth.
Bishop stared at him, emotionless. “Gary, Gary, Gary...” He whispered softly.
His free hand quickly grabbed him by the neck, followed by the one holding him by the mouth, and then he slowly applied pressure as he constricted his airway. Gary's face was turning a pinkish color, and soon, and soon started to choke. He wrapped his hands around his wrists to try and struggled, but the more he did, the more the pressure increased. When his face changed from a darker red to a light blue-purplish color, he was starting to lose consciousness again. His body moved side-ways toward the floor, and Bishop moved along with him. Kneeling beside him, he waited until Gary's grip around his wrist was starting to go and his eyes started to roll back in his head before relaxing his hold around his neck completely.
Gary gasped deeply for air, coughing again, while his skin color went back to normal. Niome continued watching, feeling a little shock at what Bishop was doing to Gary, but was finally...glad? Relieved? She didn't know how to feel yet. She looked on at the thirty-eight year old as he patted Gary several times on the shoulder.
“Why make this so hard, Gary? All over a material item that doesn't belong to you?” Bishop wondered, smiling a little this time. “Are you daft?”
“Man, I don't have to tell you anything...” Gary then asked, “Why do you even fucking care where I got it from?”
He chuckled lightly in amusement, standing up as he grabbed him with both hands by the lapels of his jumpsuit. He lifted him up to where his toes were barely touching the ground, and then slammed his back against the tiled restroom wall.
“You know where she is,” Bishop whispered harshly, getting into his face. “You're going to tell me where.”
“I'm not telling you shit, buddy,” he answered. “Hurt me all you want, bastard. I'm not going to say shit.”
“Yeah?”
Gary laughed in his face. “Yeah.”
Big mistake.
Bishop kneed him hard in the testicles, and then slammed the back of his head hard against the wall. The man cried out in agony when Bishop let him fall carelessly to the floor. He stood there, staring at nothing in particular, while quietly putting his eyeglasses away inside a case he carried in his coat pocket, and then returned the case inside the pocket. Next, he walked toward the stall, stripping his coat off, and hanging it over a hook on the inside of the stall, which happened to be the same one where he thought something was inside. He ran his hands over his face, and rubbed at his eyelids before returning to Gary.
“Did you meet her, Gary?” He questioned. “Did you meet Jennifer? I know you did because you're a terrible liar.”
“So what if I did?” Gary groaned.
“Gary...” He sighed. “Not the answer I was looking for.”
This time, Bishop slammed him face-first into one of the mirrors, shattering most of it, and cutting the man's face with many cuts from the broken glass that shattered to the sink and parts of the floor. While Gary was leaning against the sink, Bishop then slammed the man's forehead against the edge of it; letting him fall to his hands and knees.
Groaning and cursing angrily at Bishop, who was patiently standing there in silence. Gary grunted, spitting a mixture of blood and saliva onto the floor, and glared up at him.
“I hope the others find you,” He said, “And when they do, I hope they torture you for days and make you wish you were dead as they slowly fillet you alive a little each day.”
Bishop stood there, smiling a little down at him. “Is that what you tell Niome if she doesn't behave, too?”
“Niome?”
“Yeah,” He raised both eyebrows. “That's her real name. Not 'Darling'.”
“I'll give her whatever name I please,” Gary muttered. “And I can do whatever I want with her.” A vile smirk spread across his lips, but he didn't say anything else.
Niome tensed up, feeling like she could vomit in her mouth. She couldn't stand it any longer, hearing the disgusting man speak like that. Seeing someone like Bishop finally stand up to someone like him, made her think about a lot of things...maybe even made her more confident than usual. Not only that, she knew he wasn't being truthful about the little girl, Jenny. Jenny was younger than her, and she instinctively felt some sort of fierce protectiveness with young children who were being abused. Clutching her hands into fists, she squeezed her eyelids shut, and suddenly blurted out, “They have her. They have her there inside the building, and she's alive.”
“Damn it, Darling,” Gary yelled. “You need to learn how to shut your mouth, you stupid bitch.”
Bishop abruptly went off on him, kicking and punching him hard anywhere he could. He then roughly picked him up and grasped him by the neck with one hand, and punched him several times with his left. He then finished his assault with a swift kick to the groin area, and as the man started to stagger, he made sure to do it one more time before watching him collapse to the floor. He stared down at him for a minute, watching as the man was clutching his crotch as he laid in a fetal position.
“Alex?” He focused his eyes on Niome, who was now standing up. “I'm sorry I lied to you about not knowing where she was earlier. I knew but...but I was scared.” She glanced down at Gary. “Of him and what he would do to me if you weren't around.”
He quietly nodded in understanding. “It's all right, Niome.” He continued, “I'm not angry at you. I just want to find her.”
Gary slowly started to laugh. “So...” He gazed up at him. “You do care for her. Interesting. She told us her mom didn't like you anymore, but Jenny...that sweet little girl...didn't care. She still liked you and cared about you too.” That same vile grin appeared again. “But you know something?”
Bishop stared down at him, waiting for him to continue.
“You want to know something...that sweet girl...she's too good-looking to kill and eat her,” He laughed. “We decided to keep her around for something else. You want to know what? Alex?” He asked, saying his first name mockingly.
Bishop's face twitched a little and he bit down on his lip while the man continued to tell him what he never wanted to hear. The more he talked to him, the more he wanted to brutally murder Gary. He knelt down beside him, and the man still went on about Jennifer, like it was the funniest thing in the world; completely unaware of kicking the hornets' nest within Bishop's mind. Not only just though, but Niome's as well. She gradually dropped down to her knees, her mind going over what he was telling Bishop, and remembering what Gary's group has done to her. She squeezed her eyelids tightly shut, and leaned over all the way until her forehead was resting against the floor, while she hugged herself.
When she started crying, Bishop glanced over his shoulder at her. He watched her for a moment, and then turned back to Gary.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Gary kept that grin over his face as he looked up at him, proud of what he said. “You know, it's a real shame you don't like them young. Alex. We would have been the best of friends.”
Bishop silently stared at him, thinking about all the wonderful things he could do to wipe that smile off of his face.
“You said you were a monster yourself, right?” Gary asked, “So, buddy...what kind of monster are you? Care to share with the rest of the class?” He started to glance over at Niome, but looked back at Bishop, who rested a hand on the left side of his face, his fingers over his ear.
While Bishop kept eye contact with him, he took his double-edged knife that was strapped to his belt out, holding it so the blade was pointing downward, keeping it hidden from view. “I'm the kind who murders people,” He smiled happily. “People like you.” He chuckled darkly, slowly gripping the top part of the man's earlobe. “Nothing else brings me more joy than murdering the likes of you.”
He paused as he pressed the sharp blade over the back of the man's ear, and smiled as he swiftly cut through it halfway, ignoring the agonized screams. He then stood up, ripping the rest of the ear, and parts of the skin of his face near the ear off. He lifted his hand up, studying the ear as it dripped droplets of blood onto the floor.
“Now you know I'm not playing games with you.” He dropped the ear beside the screaming man.
Wiping the blood off of his hand and knife with a handkerchief, he walked over to his backpack to take out the machete. Squatting down, he unzipped it, and grabbed for the machete's handle, but stopped. He gradually gazed up, and then over to Niome, who was still rather upset from hearing Gary go into detail with what they do. Pondering over an idea, he finally took the weapon out, and stood to approach her. Squatting down in front of her, he was quiet for a while, studying her while she cried. He really didn't know what to do, especially when he learned what Gary has done to her and the other young females, including Jennifer. He shifted his focus on Gary, who was still laying there where he left him, holding his hand over the bleeding area where his ear once was; moaning and cursing at him again.
Bishop breathed in, and slowly exhaled as he fixed his attention down on Niome. He carefully laid the machete down in front of the girl, which gained her attention. When she finally stopped crying, she slowly gazed up at him curiously. He gazed at her, and whispered softly to her.
“You did hear me when I told him I murdered people like him, correct?” When she nodded a little, he went on, “Okay. Out of the twenty child predators and child killers I murdered, not one of the victims were able to do anything. Such as, fighting back, or killing them for taking away their innocence. Either because the victims were already dead or just couldn't for a number of reasons.”
He watched as she stared down at the sharp machete in between them while he crossed his arms over his knees, and rested his chin in the middle of his arm as he continued to squat in front of her.
“Those reasons, if they were still alive, ranged from being too scared, or felt too weak,” He said, “That's why people like Gary there prey on young people like you. They think you're weak and won't fight back, or tell on them. They scare you, they threaten your life if you report them. They feed on that fear because they enjoy it. It gives them power when they know you won't do anything back to them, and then they either continue torturing you, or get rid of you and move on to their next victim when they grow tire of you.”
He paused. She was glaring now, her hearing focusing on his voice, while her vision was focusing more and more on the machete before her.
“Now...” He lightly tapped his fingertips over the blade a few times as he went on. “You don't have to hack him too death for what he did to you, and to others like you, but...it's nice to know you have a choice to enact revenge for yourself and be the embodiment of those who can't.”
He gave the blade two more taps before standing up. Looking down, he smiled somewhat. “Up to you, though. Don't be scared of him. He is nothing more than a pitiful cockroach that needs to be killed before the cycle continues.”
With that, he went over to stand against the wall, crossed his arms, and waited for her decision - whatever it was going to be.
Bishop kept an eye on both her and Gary, who was still in a lot of pain from getting the shit beat out of him, and then his ear cut off partway before being ripped off by him. He wasn't going anywhere for a while, but that still didn't mean he should stop watching out for him. While he waited patiently for Niome, his thoughts went back to the nude woman with the glowing eyes, and what she did to him. He never hallucinated before in his entire life, even when he was looking for the child murderer back in Montana. Although, that turned out to be more than one person, and mostly females belonging to some kind of black magic cult. That was something he never dealt with before, and it nearly cost him his life. Or soul.
Yeah...soul. I don't think I have one. He thought.
Back then though, he never understood why one of his bosses from the facility showed up. It was still strange to him how he easily told them to back down before they could do anything to him. They didn't want to kill him, he was certain of that. No, they wanted to do something else.
He frowned, thinking about what the woman in Montana whispered to him; remembering each word as if she said it yesterday into his ear.
“Children are pure, a worthy sacrifice to our lord. But you...you have another power that we love. Dark power that would benefit us the most.”
The only thing he could think of was that she was insane, just like the rest of the townspeople there.
There's always someone far worse than you...He grinned a little.
***
Nearly five minutes passed, and eventually he looked over at Niome when she stood up. She was holding the machete tightly in both hands, and staring at it and nothing else. He wondered what she was thinking about at first, but figured it was over what he said to her, or her past. Whatever it was, caused her to shake a little. Niome was thinking about what he said more and more, in fact. She was also having flashbacks with everything that happened to her up until this point. She thought of everyone she met, and not just Gary, and the horrible things she had been dealing with all of her life so far. The more she thought about those situations, the angrier she became, and the less weight the machete felt in both hands.
Her eyes gradually gazed over at Gary for a few seconds, and then moved up to Bishop. Their eyes locked onto one another, and then he gave her a nod, as if to say it was okay to go ahead to do what she needed to do. It was up to her after all, but she quietly wished she'd met him sooner, then perhaps, she would feel different than how she feels now? She didn't know and he never said she would feel any different. She carefully approached Gary, and his eyes darted up to look at her with a grimaced expression.
“What? What are you doing, Darling...?” He then glared over at Bishop, who glanced down at him. “So, what? You can't kill me yourself? After everything else you did to me, you can't kill me and have to have someone else do it for you?” He laughed. “Figures. Talking all big and bad...you're like all the rest of them. Scared, little fucking bitches.”
Bishop could only but smirk down at him, but then, something caught his eye and he looked up to see something over at the end of the restroom where Gary once was earlier. The woman...the same woman from before, but much more grotesque. The room seemed to be glowing a dark red color, with whispering voices all around them. The air around also suddenly felt cool, and he felt an irresistible state of dread wash over him. He strained to look away from her, and back at Niome. Niome was still standing there, but not looking at Gary anymore. She suddenly looked scared and was shivering a little too.
“What is that...?” She wondered.
“Niome...” Bishop started but was flung back against the wall from an unseen force, and held a couple of feet off of the ground.
The impact was painful, and the wind was nearly knocked out of him. “Ahh!” He groaned in pain, trying to struggle against something he could not see or fight with. Gritting his teeth, he parted his eyes, and was now staring down at the woman, who was standing beneath him. When their eyes met, she studied him curiously with pitch black eyes as they stared at each other for what seemed like forever. She then gave him a wolfish grin, showing sharp, inhuman teeth.
“What do you want...?” He managed to ask through the pain. “What the hell do you want from me?!”
Her grin slowly faded, but didn't answer him as she stepped away and disappeared out of thin air, and then reappeared behind Niome, who was freaking out and looking up at him. He looked at the teenaged girl, and then at the woman. When he saw the woman gradually smirk up at him, his eyes widen with the realization of what she was going to do.
“W-wait, no-no-no-no-no,” He stammered. “Don't you hurt her. Don't you fucking touch her!”
The woman lifted a hand, extending her clawed-fingers to brush them down Niome's long hair. The girl froze. “Alex...?” Her voiced shuddered with fright as she panicked more and more.
“Niome, run,” He told her urgently. “Run! Niome? Niome!” He paused, panting with his heart pounding within his chest.
He looked on helplessly as the woman snaked her clawed hand around the teenager's neck, and smiled up at him.
“Suffer.” The woman said to him with a demonic voice.
“No...” He cringed, struggling against whatever it was holding him against the wall. “NO!”
Still smiling at him, she ripped her claws across Niome's throat, creating five deep wounds. Niome's eyes went wide with shock as blood squirted out profusely over her shirt, the floor beneath her feet, and splattered over part of the wall in front of her. She gurgled and choked on her blood, dropping the machete to press her hands against the fatal gash. She dropped to the ground, and continued to bleed out over the floor; gurgling and twitching a little.
Bishop stared down at Niome, until he felt cold hands cup around his face. His eyes darted in front of him, and was staring face-to-face with the woman who was looking far less human-like, and more of the demonic entity that Niome thought she saw earlier. The eleven foot entity brushed its thumbs over his lips, causing Bishop to try to move away, but couldn't. He grunted a little, tensing up, which seemed to amuse the demon more than anger it.
“I do love it when you humans are so defiant.” A chuckle. “It hurts you to see children killed, does it not?”
“Shut up...” Bishop muttered.
It chuckled. “To see them suffer, knowing you cannot help them.”
“Shut up.” He repeated, a little louder this time.
“It brings me great pleasure...joy...to see you hurt...to see your anger rise.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
It laughed at him, amused. “I would take over you now, but it is much more enjoyable to cause you to suffer.” It paused, caressing his face. “I think I will continue to play with you...make things worse for you overtime until you cannot take any more of my torture and submit your soul to me.”
After about a minute, Bishop angrily responded to the entity. “Fuck. You.”
It laughed quietly, gradually brushing the tip of a claw down his face, tracing his jawline, and down his neck and chest; cutting the material of his shirt and undershirt with ease, but also creating a long welt along his skin from where it brushed its claw. Bishop winced slightly, the welt seemed to be burning continuously.
“Tempting,” It eyed him up and down. “But perhaps next time, hm?” The demon laughed quietly again, grinning as it continued, “Thank you, though.”
Bishop's eyebrows twitched inquisitively.
“Oh, allow me to explain,” It glanced over to where Gary was. “I can return with his soul. Quite delicious, that one is. We do enjoy murderers and rapists like him the most.”
Chuckling lightly, it cupped the sides of his face one more time, and forced him to look it in the eye.
“See you soon.” Then it disappeared.
Bishop moaned in pain, suddenly feeling dizzy and sick; his body sliding down the wall to a sitting position with his legs sprawled out. For a while, he was hyperventilating, sweating, trembling and cold. He felt numb, detached from his surroundings, and had a slight discomfort in his chest as his heart raced. His eyes were staring down at the floor beside his leg, but wasn't even focusing on anything particular. He heard a quiet voice, but it seemed muffled, like he was underwater.
While he was having an apparent panic attack, Niome was alive and well as she still stood where she was. She clutched her hand tightly around the machete's handle and stared down at Bishop with wide eyes. She was frightened of what she just witnessed. Although, she only experienced the brisk coldness and the eerie feeling that something else was in there with them. She didn't see what he saw earlier when the demonic entity showed itself to him. The next thing she knew, was that a loud sound brought her out of her thoughts, and looked up in shock as Bishop was being held a foot off of the ground by...nothing? She didn't know what was going on, and tried to talk to him when he started screaming at her. Yelling frantically for her to run, but to her, she couldn't as fear held her in place. What was going on? Didn't he say he hallucinated before? What she just witnessed didn't look like he was seeing things at all, or maybe he was when he was shouting at her.
What the hell was going on, and why did her throat feel like it was burning? She glanced down to Gary, but couldn't find him. Suddenly worried, her eyes darted around, until she found him sitting in the corner on the outside of the first stall – scared shitless. He was hiding from whatever just happened, instead of fleeing, but he didn't think he'd make it due to his injured ankle. So, there he remained. She smirked a little, enjoying seeing him cower like that. When Bishop moaned again, she turned her attention over to him.
Niome stared at Bishop curiously. He looked a lot more scared than she was, and she wondered what could possibly scare someone like him so bad to cause him to be in such a state. Hesitating, she gradually stepped toward him, glancing over at Gary for a moment to make sure he wasn't trying to move from his spot by the stall before kneeling next to Bishop, but not too close. She stayed silent for a while, gazing at his face, but mostly at his slightly widen eyes before her eyes trailed down to his heaving chest. She licked her dried lips, searching for the right words to talk to him, and try and calm him down somehow. She's dealt with calming down others who were having panic attacks, and not to mention dealt with it herself, but this was different. She wasn't sure if she would be able to get through to him.
She was sure as hell going to try anyway. He helped her, and now, she will try her best to help him. She breathed in a deep breath through her nose, and then lightly cleared her throat.
“Alex...?” Her eyes on his face again. When she didn't receive a response, she went on, “Alex, can you hear me? Alex...you know nothing is here right? Nothing is here to hurt you, or me. I'm fine and you're fine. Everything is alright now.”
She became quiet again, keeping her eyes on him, while she sat on both knees. She quietly placed the machete at her side, and then slowly gazed at Bishop's arm that was resting over his lap.
Bishop still didn't respond, but his eyes shifted a little, looking slightly toward her direction, but he wasn't focusing on her yet. He heard her, but didn't hear everything, as he was still slightly detached.
Clasping her hands nervously, she whispered to him. “Whatever it was that was here, that hurt and scared you is gone now...”
Ever-so-slowly, she reached over to lightly touch his arm with her fingertips, and then moved even more hesitantly to completely press her hand over his forearm to try and comfort him. To let him physically know that she was there, and not just a voice.
She slowly glanced up, finally noticing the welt where the entity marked him, and blinked. It looked fresh, like someone used a whip and whipped him across the side of his face and down to his chest, as fresh droplets of blood oozed out in a few places.
What happened...? She thought, before looking up to meet his gaze.
He was pale, eyes as wide as they can be when he stared at her. They stared at each other for a few moments. He slowly grimaced, shaking his head in disbelief.
No,” He simply said, “No. No, no.” He kept shaking his head a little, staring at her as he was trying to mentally reject what he was seeing. “No. You're dead. I saw you...I saw as that woman...that thing...went up behind you and smirked at me as it fucking ripped its claws across your throat.”
“But, I'm...” Her face contorted into an equal expression of doubt. “I'm not hurt. I'm not dead...I'm alive. I would say you were hallucinating...but...I watched as you were being held up against the wall, but I didn't see anything else. Let alone a woman - ” She gasped when he slapped her hand away from his arm, and stared at him, suddenly feeling scared again, but he didn't attack her.
Clenching his hands into fists over his thighs, he tilted his head back, and shut his eyelids tightly as he gritted his teeth. He looked as if he was in pain, and he was due to the long welt inflicted onto him. He groaned, relaxing his fingers to rub at his face somewhat.
Panting a little, he bowed his head, letting his arms drop back down onto his thighs. He stared at his hands, and whispered, “I saw you...she practically ripped your throat out, and you bled out when you fell to the floor. She killed you...” He sighed. “It...killed you, and then it taunted me...told me I was more fun being played around with, than taking me over.”
Niome looked at him, cradling her hand in her arm. He didn't hit her hard, but it shocked her, scared her, but she guessed she understood it after he told her what he saw. What that thing did to her and him. She probably wouldn't have believed him if it weren't for the fact that she was here when he was thrown into the wall, and held against it from an unseen force, holding him up off of the floor.
Shaking his head a little, he managed to climb to his feet; albeit slowly and on trembling legs. He leaned over, resting his hands over his knees, and stood there to calm himself. He never been scared in his entire life. He's panicked before, but never felt any form of fear. Now he had this damn thing after him, and wanting to play with his life?
Shit.
What the fuck is wrong with me? He silently wondered to himself.
Bishop groaned a bit as he straightened up, and glanced down at her, who was still sitting on her knees on the floor.
“I'm...sorry,” He tilted his head a little, like some puppy as he winced somewhat down at her. He extended his hand to her, and waited for her to take it so he could pick her up. “Come on...take my hand.”
She reluctantly took it, and when he helped her to her feet, they looked over at Gary when he started to laugh quietly at them.
“This...this is great,” he said in amusement. “This is so wonderful, seeing you two like that. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”
He groaned, standing up as best as he could on his injured foot.
“You know what would be very nice though?” He asked. “You see, I need to take something back, but I'm already late, and the sun's down, and I'm sure the others would like it if I bring back extra stock.”
Bishop glared at him, wrapping an arm around Niome's shoulders protectively, and back up as Gary took threatening steps toward them. “Stock, huh?” With his free hand, he unholstered his handgun while he watched as Gary picked up the machete.
“Fuck...” Niome whispered, wincing when she realized she forgot to pick it up off of the floor.
“Yeah, stock,” Gary smiled, pointing at the two with the weapon. “It will be a shame to have to use her as stock, seeing as she was my favorite, but...at least you'll last us a few days before we eat her.”
“Is that so?” Bishop just stared at him, expressionless. He managed to unholster the gun, but kept it hidden at his side.
“Mhmm,” Gary nodded, grinning. “So, how about it?”
“Oh, silly me,” Bishop chuckled. “I forgot about something, and it would be extremely rude not to show you, but...people really shouldn't bring a knife to a gun fight?”
“Huh?”
Bishop raised the gun at chest-level, and stared down the sights as he aimed the handgun at the man.
“If you're going to shoot me, you better not miss, asshole.”
“Oh, I won't miss.”
“Yeah, right,” Gary laughed. “I doubt you even have bullets in it.” He jumped, startled when he fired his gun, but purposely moved it slightly to the right to miss him. He looked over his shoulder to see where the bullet went, if there was one in the chamber. Sure enough, there was a hole in the wall. He turned back around, and then raised his hands up in the air. “Okay, then.”
Bishop slowly started to move forward, with Niome still being held in his arm. “Get down on your knees.” When he didn't get any response, he yelled louder, “Get down on your knees. Now.” When he finally complied, he went on. “We're leaving. Niome and I. If you try to follow us, I will splatter your brains with a bullet to your head. Understood?”
“Of course...” Gary slowly smiled.
Bishop stared at him, still aiming the gun at his head. He knew what the man promised was only a lie, and was going to shoot him anyway. He started to pull on the trigger, but stopped. He stared at Gary, but ended up staring behind him. He held Niome tighter against him, and backed up toward the entry way of the restroom. Before he could make it away, they watched as Gary was raised into the air, freaking the man out, and then violently thrown against the wall, and then into the other half of the mirrors before being slammed into the ceiling, and then lastly the floor -cutting his surprised cries short. Bishop looked on, holstering his gun just as the entity started ripping Gary apart. Instinctively, he pushed Niome toward the door.
“Go, go, go!” He urged her, and the two ran out the door.
They kept running; leaving his backpack and coat behind. He doubt he would ever go back there to get his gear and supplies, and didn't care about them now. They could be replaced, as he had plenty back at his apartment in the Survival Settlement. Right now, the most important thing was to get as far away as they possibly can from this place. The only important thing on his mind, other than getting away, is to find Jennifer. Once they were at a safe enough distance a few minutes later, Niome looked up at him.
"Alex?" She panted a little.
Catching his breath, he slowed down, but didn't stop moving. "Uh huh...?"
"I can take you to where they are keeping her...we can reach there by morning if we keep going." A pause. "If you want to."
Bishop nodded, staring ahead, but he couldn't help but think if that thing, that demonic entity, was following him. Needless to say, it felt like something was watching them, and he had a bad feeling he was right.
I hate when I'm right... But, he wasn't going to let anything impede what he came out here to do, and that was to find and bring Stacey's daughter home.
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Frightened by it's appearance, Jake let out a soft cry and fear clenched his throat, as Jake had no courage to interrogate this strange being, the fly spoke first. "I am Beelzebub, you also many know me as the devil or Satan, but I like being called by my Hebrew name, it sounds more official." He said humorously, despite his size and appearance.
So, I think if you knew more of what Into the Wastelands is about, like Kill and Fac, I think you would have scored it higher. No worries though. I wish I did have time to finish this before the deadline, by the way. I was thinking of continuing on with it, but didn't since I knew I would have needed at least another week to finish it. So, cliffhanger it was. Sorry about that. lol 
