Class Of 96': 1994 (BxB Mystery)

February 17, 1995 - 12:00 A.M.

    Ollie pressed record.
    "Stephan, I love you. I love you so ridiculously much. Once I join The Cassius Post, I'll definitely give you complementary kisses."
    Stephan would roll back the tape. And once he did, he would be in for quite a pleasant surprise. That made Ollie smile.
    "But until then, I will practice to be great . . . Like you."
    He took in a deep breath. "Shall I begin?"
    A quiet pause of leaves rustling.
    "This is Ollie Blossom, reporting live!!!"
    It sounded awful. Like a dying pigeon. One more time?
    "This is Ollie Blossom, reporting live!"
    This time, he got it right. At least in his standards.
    He flipped over the recorder, searching to pause. He didn't want to waste any more of Stephan's tape.
    "Where's the pause button again? Um, so this is the recording butto—"
    Thwak!
    He knew he was in the woods, but he felt . . . gone. Numb. Before he blinked the stars out of his eyes, he found himself on the ground, weakly whimpering.
    Ollie slowly gripped the back of his head.   
    Warm. It was warm and wet.
    Blood.
    A silhouette grabbed his bloody hair and simply pulled. Ollie couldn't make anything out, but he knew he was being hauled away. His dragged ankles started burning as his body chafed against the leaves. He was helpless.
    The figure dropped his head limp on the ground. His head felt tender.
    Ollie didn't understand anything. What was happening? Why is everything so . . .
    His eyes lolled up as he heard the sound of . . . tape ripping. Hands pressed to his mouth, and just like that, Ollie's groans muffled. Lips taped shut.
    The silhouette's knee pinned down his hand.
    A fast, sharp knife thrusted down on Ollie's elbow.
    Ollie screamed past his trance, eyes going wide, back snapping in an arch. His sudden confusion shot away by the immediate, agonizing pain.
    The cold knife left his arm, and cracked back down to his bone. Again, and again, and again.
    Ollie felt his tears soak down as his screams became wails. Muffled wailes of tormented help.
    The knife continued, crushing his arm side to side.
    He gripped the soil in pain. His arm was wet and soaked in his own blood. Ollie's muscles spilled out with glossy flesh. And with each stab, his arm looked more like ground meat than a human part.
    Ollie realized he couldn't grip the soil anymore.
    He twitched in terror. He couldn't feel his arm. He couldn't move his fingers. He stared up at the figure atop him, and he finally saw who.
    The Hazard.
    A short glimpse was all it took to see his arm, gone from his body.
    He cried in panic, dampened by the tape. Ollie stretched his other hand desperately reaching for anything.
    His hand landed on a large rock.
    Ollie slammed it against The Hazard's helmet with all the strength he had left.
    They tumbled off Ollie and with the flash of the moonlight, Ollie saw the black cracked helmet on the ground.
    Ollie quickly tumbled to his feet and started running. Deeper, and deeper into the dark and looming forest.
    He ripped the tape free from his mouth with a gasp and grasped his left arm.
    It was gone.
    Right at the elbow, it was gone.
    All that was left was the bare bone and splurged, soft flesh.
    Ollie cried in horror.
    He cried for help.
    Fast footsteps sounded behind him.
    If he gets caught, he's dead.
    Ollie kept running, hand on where his arm was supposed to be. He desperately yelled for help again. But his strength was oozing out.
    His head was bleeding and he was losing blood. He felt dizzy with his vision swimming. He just wanted it to stop.
    A body slammed against him.
    He crashed to the ground.
    Ollie had no more strength to get up. He lost. All he could do now was to slowly crawl away with one arm.
    A harsh hand jerked his shoulder, prying him to face sky-up.
    The Hazard pinned him to the ground and forced his only hand down.
    Ollie screamed in full terror. He was going to lose both arms. And he couldn't do anything about it.
    "Hello? Is everything okay?"
    A voice.
    Hope.
    Ollie opened his mouth to shout.
    The Hazard's leathered hands suddenly squeezed his neck.
    All his words were lost. He frantically tried to gasp for breath, kicking his legs. His tears clogged as he fell into more panic.
    Ollie saw flashlights. Safety was so near.
    His limbs suddenly jerked.
    Ollie felt his muscles spasm, rapidly relaxing and tightening with sharp pain.
He started convulsing.
    Ollie froze as his limbs shook and twitched uncontrollably. He felt blood trickle down his nose.
    Slowly, he went limp, eyes wide.
    As his vision blurred, he made out an image.
    The Hazard before him, helmet cracked, with flashlights calling in his aid.
    All went black.

Shouldn't have kept.