A film expert and her brother are lured to a secluded mansion with the promise of receiving a rare print of a long-lost film. Waiting for them is a deadly secret that someone there will kill to protect.
For a moment, Kevin felt like he was having an out of body experience.
Time seemed to stop. It was like there was a different reality at play, one where Mason, Stogie, and Hollywood were forever frozen in place, stuck in a world where Kevin could call the shots and run the show.
That reality disappeared in the blink of an eye, replaced by a new one where Kevin as a force of authority ceased to exist.
Mason rushed him.
"Michelle, run!" He managed to shout before the gang leader was on him.
Mason plowed into him, using his right shoulder like a battering ram. The collision was surprisingly lighter than Kevin had expected. He'd taken harder hits on the football field. But it was enough to jar him backwards and set him up for a second hit, this time from Stogie who shoved him hard enough to send him to the floor. He hit the hard wood with a violent force that knocked the wind out of him. But worse, it knocked the film reel from his hands.
The next thing he knew, Mason and Stogie were kicking him. He curled up into a ball, bringing his arms to his head to shield his face.
On the floor, his head was positioned in such a way that he could see down the hallway in the direction that Michelle had run. Through the blaze of kicking feet, his eyes captured a curious sight. The film reel had not simply fallen to the floor with him. Apparently, it had landed vertically and began to roll down the hallway, unravelling itself like a spool of ribbon. Mason and Stogie must not have noticed because they kept kicking. But despite the beating, Kevin couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at seeing the roll of film, the very artifact that his sister had literally handled with kid gloves, coming undone all over the dirt-riddled floor.
"The film!" He heard Hollywood shout.
Hollywood rushed by in pursuit of the reel as it continued to roll down the hall.
Kevin had hoped that this would bring an end to Mason and Stogie's attack, but the two must have been too keyed up and continued to kick at Kevin's head, shoulders, legs, and back.
Don't think I can take much more of this, he thought.
Down the hallway, he heard a shout and risked another glance.
What he saw was Michelle struggling with Hollywood, shouting and hitting him with her attaché case while the younger man fought to subdue her.
Have to think fast.
Have to act fast.
But how?
It quickly occurred to him that he still had one more move, one more Hail Mary pass to make before these three beat them both to death. It was sickening. It was crazy. He didn't want to do it. But he was desperate, on the verge of passing out, and he knew that these nasty, violent thugs had left him no choice.
He still held the lighter in his right hand.
Though it had gone out, there was a chance that it had a little juice left. Just enough for one quick flame. He pressed the trigger. A spark, but no flame. He pressed it again. Another spark. The kicks kept coming. The pain mounted. He felt his grip on consciousness slipping.
He hit the trigger again.
This time, the spark gave birth to a small blue flame.
He could see the opening length of the film on the floor within arm's reach. Swallowing hard. Fighting through the pain. He reached out and touched the flame to it.
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