After The End: Alex Rider FanFiction

~Chapter Twenty-Eight~

     What's he doing now?

     He gives me a smile and I glare back at him.

     His smile turns into a frown, then another smirk shows up. "You'll soon learn not to challenge me, Alex." He taps the device in his hand. "But I would of thought you'd of learned that already." He stares back at me.

      Tom and Jack.

      I feel myself wilt, and I look away. "That's more like it." I hear Razim say to himself.

       I bite my lip, ashamed of myself for being such a wimp.

       The door opens again, and Stick walks in carrying a large soggy looking towel in his arms.

       Blood covers his clothes, a horrible smell following him. He stops in front of Razim, an evil smirk plastered across his face.

       Razim looks over at me. "Oh Alex, we have something for you." Razim singsongs, walking towards me.

       I tense up more.

       They both stop in front of me, and Razim nods his head towards Stick.

       Not wasting a second, Stick drops the wet blanket.

       It lands with a sickening plop onto my lap, the top unfolding open.

        I stare at it, my eyes widening in horror. I feel bile rise in my throat, that smell becoming unbearable.

       There, wrapped up in the wet - No. Bloodied blanket.

       I can't look away.

       Is a freshly amputated arm. Blood still falls freely from the shoulder joint, white bone sticking out from the end. An odd warmth emitting from it.

       I stare in shock, the world frozen with me.

       It's weight suddenly feels like a thousand pounds, crushing me.

       Can't breath!

       I blink.

       Quickly, I jerk my shackled arms up.

      The arm tumbles out of the blanket, landing with another sickening plop onto the ground about ten feet away from me. Blood flying everywhere.

   Stick laughs.

      I ignore him, my thought only on that.....arm.

      I can still feel the weight pressing down on me, the horrible smell. I gag, the urge to throw-up becoming too much.

      I continue gagging as nothing comes up. My stomach already empty from not eating anything in days, and the fact I've thrown up way too many times this past week to be considered healthy.

      I look down at my lap. Blood completely soaks it, clothes sticking to my skin. I hastily wipe at the bottom of my shirt - the spot that has the most of it.

       It's not coming off!

      "We thought you might like to see this first before we show you something else." Razims' voice breaks through my frantic thoughts.

      No.

     This is too much. I-I can't take anymore!

      My chest tightens, my breathing hitching before it switches to hyperventilating.