Being Butch Green || ✓

Chapter 38 - A Beautiful Ending

I needed a distraction and fast. I flicked my gaze around the room. There wasn't much I could really use besides the random staple gun. I hoped whatever I said could buy me some of that time I desperately needed.

"Hey," I started, the bodyguards gripping my arms so tightly they tingled. "Mister?"

"What?"

"I have a dying wish," I said, half-surprised at my own words.

"And what might that be?" one said, rather unenthusiastically as he dragged me over to a vacant bed and forced my butt down onto it.

"To live," I scoffed. Fuck. Whelp, I guess my dying wish was now to live. Kinda contradictory of the whole point of dying. Gosh, I'm an idiot.

They turned to me, confused at the request as I sat there pulling out a voluntary nervous smiling episode. It was brief, but long enough for them to let go of me for a fleeting moment in bewilderment. Maybe my head hitting that sign had caused some great chemical mixup in my brain? Whatever it was, in a heartbeat, I had skipped like a fourth grader over my hands, rushing for the table.

Before I knew it, chaos surrounded the room. I was somehow armed with a staple gun, threatening to press bits of paper into their foreheads as they pointed their pistols at me, threatening to put a bullet in my head. It was the ultimate, unevenly matched shootout I'd ever witnessed. I backed into a corner; this could go either way.

"I'll do it! Don't make me!" I yelled, shaking the device with my hands still tied. They advanced. "I said, stay back!"

"Mate, we have bloody guns."

I looked down at my measly weapon, then back at them with a wild look glinting off my eyes. "I'll do it!"

"Jesus Christ," one of them muttered, shaking his head and advancing further. They had no idea of the power one staple gun in the hands of a kid who didn't know how to use one could do. This might just be the first and only experience I ever wanted with such an unpredictable weapon.

"Let me pass!"

"Sorry mate, not in the job description."

My eyes darted across the room. "Well-well let me see my brother!"

"Again. Out of our job description."

"What is it with you people!" I screamed, my hand hitting the trigger. "Oh Jesus," I mumbled, horrified as a staple shot out from the gun and flew into the man's eyeball. He was on his knees in seconds, screaming, as blood flowed out of his eye like a mini waterfall.

"I can't see!"

"I'm so sorry!" I shrieked, cringing a little as I gawked at his bleeding face.

I never knew one eyeball could bleed so much and it quietly fascinated me, but I needed to stop staring at him and get out of here. I clicked my tongue; it was now or never. I made a move to get out of the room.

"Don't move!" the other guard said, raising his gun at me.

I stopped, raising my hands in the air abruptly. Heaven knows I was going to die in this room, and just like that I'd changed the course of my demise and put a staple in his cheek. And his nose. And his eyeball. They just kind of shot out, rapid fire, at the poor man.

"Oh boy!" I said, clinging to the weapon in mild shock before my legs carried me sprinting past them. "You may want to cover that up," I screamed over my shoulder as I raced down the corridor hastily.

I bolted along. I had no idea where the hell I was. All I knew was that I needed to find Jack. It was my turn to rescue him. I raced up stairs, around corners, checking in rooms for my captured army of friends. But there was nothing, it was as bare as a horror movie hospital.