Warrick & Warshaw Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Death to Warrick Gray!



Cold, wet so shivering cold, my shaking body why am I wet? I can’t feel, I blink dizzy so dizzy.

I open my eyes, blurry, dark and spinning. Headache, oh headache son of a bitching headache, pain. I groan loud enough to cause an echo. Echo?

Water splashed all over me, I gasp and sit up, cold water. Something hits me on the chest. I fall my head smacks on the ground. The air is knocked out of me. The aftermath was stunning. I groaned and turned on my chest. I hugged myself. I felt the ground and stared at it as if confused, it was grey and the surface was rough. Cement I noted.

The back of my head is throbbing my blood leaves my brain. I groaned. The throbbing turns to pain. Another hit on the gut, immediate pain.

“Ow! You asshole!” I wither on the ground. I blink and squint at two figures on my right side, I close my eyes. A slight kick on my left side, I curled.

I hear three pair of footsteps.

“We don’t want to kill him do we?” A husky voice says.

“No Kemp, we are not the killers here.” I hear a shuffle of feet and – here comes another painful kick to the gut. That hit left me coughing.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t hurt him” Says Kemp that asshole sounding almost threatening and happy at the same time.

“Kemp please leave the warehouse right now” Says a familiar voice. Is that Prolix? Warehouse? Am I in a warehouse?

“Why can’t-”

Kemp tried to plead. Mann that guy really likes hurting me.

I open my eyes. Prolix is standing right above me “Leave now Kemp or I will have you fired”

For a moment, there is silence and Kemp his chest puffed and his fists clenched stood in front of Prolix. I realized that Prolix was protecting me, though I’m still not forgiving him for stabbing me with a friggin syringe.

Kemp is a red head, I mean his hair was scarlet he would stand out in public. His body built fit but yet skinny he eyed Prolix with a deadly stare. He was dressed sharp, navy jacket and pants and black shiny shoes. No boots, no boots thank god no boots because they really hurt like hell. Like yesterday, Bob wore boots.

Bob and Lonnie, yesterday why does everybody want to hurt me? Yesterday I had a ‘conversation’ with Lonnie and Bob. A conversation that caused physical pain I remember, the kind of pain that hurt my head and my pretty face. Was that yesterday?!

Prolix wore the exact same design suit as yesterday, a ‘men in black’ suit but this time it was completely white. He wore a hat that gangsters used to wear back in 1920’s.

Kemp grunted and left stomping his feet like a little kid.

After Kemp closed a door behind him and left the building Prolix wiped his hands with an invisible cloth.

“Well, hello there Warrick Gray”

“Rick” I corrected him. I was on my knees. Grimacing as I tried to stand up. Before I could a guy walked to stand next to me, and push me back down holding me there.

Ah Mister Mountain man what was his name? Bronte? Ah yes Bronte.

“Hi Pro” Shoulder is squeezed hard by scary mountain man. “Lix, still working the gangster hat I see” Prolix laughed even though I didn’t mean it to be funny.

I looked up to Bronte, and gave him a small wave, he disregarded it.

“Aw I know this is out of the question, but Pro and Bro can I if it’s possible and not too much trouble go home?”

Prolix’s smile dissipated, Bronte squeezed harder as he pulled me up. “Warrick I guess we should get started” Prolix walked over at a table.

“Take off your clothes!” Shouted Bronte, I practically jumped. I unzipped my grey sweater very slowly. “You seriously want me naked?” my voice squeaked. Bronte puffed up his chest. No, no oh no you’re not going to rape me, are you going to Rape me?

Breathe just breathe Warrick Gray, do not panic. “PLEASE DON’T RAPE ME!!”

“Relax Warrick we’re not-” Prolix was saying, but I interrupted him.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN MY TYPE! PLEASE DON’T” My body was shaking, suddenly the song from Nirvana finally sounded disturbing. Rape me my friend....

“NO I’M NOT TAKING OFF MY CLOTHES, I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE GAY”

Maybe I should have, the way they were dressed too sharp, and I don’t know the way they talked like they were friggin librarians. I should have known I would’ve run away the first time I saw his creepy smile and the mountain man.

Prolix was still facing the table, having his back to me. Escape tactic. Think of an escape tactic, ok first I will hit Bronte in the boohoo then try to put a sleeper hold on Prolix. Ok.

I flicked my elbow back; Bronte grabbed my wrist and twisted it. He punched my face, then grabbed my throat then slammed my whole body on the concrete ground. “Hoof” The wind got knocked out of me. I gasped and I lay there for ten seconds just stunned. Then the pain came, I groaned and withered on the floor.

Wishing my over reactive mind would just shut up. I looked through my plan A; obviously it wouldn’t have worked anyway. Maybe it was just my not-wanting-to-get-raped gave that surge of bravery. Which happens rarely but it would work most of the time.

I didn’t move and tried to think of a Plan B. Bronte put his arms under my pits and pulled me up. Plan B hit Bronte in the boohoo and run the heck out of here.

Bronte straightened me out; going in front of me.

But this time I will hit him with my knee...

He pulled out a hand gun and pointed it at my forehead. Plan B cancelled.

“Take off your clothes Warrick Gray subject 16” Bronte commanded. I stopped crying, which I just noticed that I was crying. “Uh ok” my nose sounded like there was too much snot in it.

Finally Prolix turned to face me, holding up white boxer shorts. “And put this on”

I felt relieved that they weren’t going to rape me; I mean who wouldn’t be happy to not be sexually assaulted.

I took off my pants then my t-shirt as Bronte went to the table. I took off my socks, I almost fell with pain.

They looked away when my boohoo was showing; incredibly I found my dignity still intact when I put the white boxer shorts on. After that Bronte threw a brown paper bag at me and said “Put your original clothing in the bag that’s including the contents in the clothing too” I still think they’re gay. I did what I was told and everything went fine, besides in the next thing they requested for me to do. It was incredibly weird.

Bronte pushed me towards the table, my gut slammed into it “Gently here gently.” A document lay before me. Prolix smiled and handed me a pen.

I looked more closely to it.

Cause of death: ________________

Cause of death?!?!? A friggin death certificate, does this mean I’m dead? Come to think of it, maybe I’m in the afterlife between heaven and hell, and I’m dead. If I am dead then that means Prolix and Bronte are the reapers? This painful but weird place with weird people and feeling all weird, this must mean I’m dead.

“Am I dead?” I asked, looking at Prolix with wide eyes.

He laughed as if it was a joke. “Oh no Rick, simply if you sign this you will be dead, according to this document.” Prolix had the most reassuring smile on his face, with the white suit and all, he looked weird. He pointed at the document.

Not changing my expression I asked “You’re going to kill me?” Even though this seemed very scary I wasn’t afraid at all, I was completely calm. I already accepted the fact that I was going to die before him and Bronte kidnapped me from the junkyard.

“Yes and no” he put his hand on my shoulder, I nearly shrugged it off. “Yes as in Warrick Gray is going to die in a car accident, officially. Your family will think you’re dead, and you will be dead to them forever if you sign this death certificate”

My eyes bugged out. My mouth wide open, but no words came to speak. I dropped the pen on the table.

“And no, as in we won’t kill you physically; you will be with us somewhere else, starting a new life and this time a good chance at succession”

I sort of understood what he was saying, I think...they’re going to kill Warrick Gray officially, like a government cover up thing. If I sign this I will be dead to my parents, and everyone else I know back home. Forever and I will never see them again. Then I will start a new life.

“Warrick do you understand what I’m telling you?” Prolix still had his hand on my shoulder, he squeezed gently. I nodded. “Good”

I shrugged off his hand and picked up the pen. I thought about my parents, and how it would be like when I’m not there. Certainly their lives would be much better off without me. I know that I’m lying to myself, but I know signing this will be good somehow.

At least there will be one less mouth to feed.

I sign it at the bottom.

Death to: Warrick Gray

“Congratulations Rick you are now dead!” Prolix proclaimed in excitement, I jumped back surprised.

Bronte came from behind, and suddenly he had me on a head lock. “Oh no not this again” I said while struggling against his iron grip. I kicked at his feet, but it was no use. “Let go of me friggin mountain!” I shouted and struggled but it didn’t work, it was like me against a mountain.

Prolix smiled “I’m sorry Rick, but you need to go through a few tests first before you start your new life”. He opened his coat to reveal...a syringe. What’s with this guy and syringes?

“Hold him still Bronte; we don’t want to damage this subject” Prolix readied the needle. Bronte held me tight and I couldn’t move. I closed my eyes in frustration.

I could barely feel the small sting this time but the aftermath of it felt like my veins were on fire, it was so painful that I felt like I was going to black out.

When I opened my eyes, Bronte was laying me down carefully on the ground. The last thing I saw was Prolix putting a bag over my head, and then it was black.

Did he call me a Subject?