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Part Twenty

   "I'm really sorry," Sam whispered, lowering his head like he was an abused animal. "I shouldn't have agreed to anything."

   "Let's just focus on getting Skip back, okay?"

   "...yeah..."

   "Sam, pick your head up. We'll have him back soon and nothing bad will happen in the process, right?" Elijah brought his pinkie finger up to Sam, pressing his chin so it was brought up to face him. Sam only nodded in return, both fearful of what Skip was capable of, and in awe that he would go to such far lengths for his own satisfaction.

   "Who are you?!"

   Skip swung around to face a kid, no older than fifteen, standing at the doorstep. With a suitcase in one hand and a crutch held in the other, the kid wobbled into the doorway on a broken leg bound in a blue cast with writing coating the first layer. The luggage rolled behind him but came to a dead stop at the sight of a stranger in his room, and such a scary looking one at that.

   "Are you Jamie?" Skip whispered in response, because this was not the person he expected to see.
  
   "Uh...yes? Who are you? Why are you in my room?!"

   Skip didn't take a second to think about his actions. In fact, it would suffice to say he simply jumped full force into the situation without any reflection on what he might say or do next. The only thought running through his head was the burning image of Sam, laying in the bathroom sink, bawling his eyes out of fear. Skip would never let him feel that way again.

   "You killed my friend's parents."

   Jamie took a step back, letting his luggage fall to the side.

   "I'm sorry?"

   "I said, you killed my friend's parents," Skip stomped over in a rush until he collided with Jamie out of pure anger, pushing one hand against his shoulder as he was backed into a wall and another arm pressed against his neck, threatening to put him in a chokehold.

   "I-What-"

   "Shut the hell up," Skip put more pressure on his neck, grinding him into the wall until his legs went limp and the only thing keeping him upright was the firm grip on his shoulder. "Listen to what I have to say, understand?"

   The kid only nodded in response, scared of what might happen if he didn't.

   "Four years ago, when you were a kid and my friend was a kid, you found his parents in your old house and sprayed them with bug repellent and you killed them. Do you remember that?!"

   Jamie shook his head no. Out of fear, sure, but also because he had no clue what was happening.

   "Of fucking course you wouldn't. How convenient for you," Skip muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes. "You probably thought they were a couple of bugs, huh? They're lives didn't mean much? They weren't very tall, maybe three inches," He released the arm pressuring Jamie's throat to measure the size of Sam's species between his two fingers. "They're really tiny, really vulnerable. You killed them, you know that?"

   Jamie was at a loss, to say the least. He only wanted to come home from vacation and sleep the jet lag away, and now a dysfunctional burglar was in his room claiming he killed miniature people? It didn't make sense at all. Jamie never killed anyone, tiny or not, and his old house was too much of a blur to remember the slightest details. Besides, the maniac pressing him against his own bedroom wall looked like he had just escaped a mental institution.

   "It was in the kitchen," the crazy stranger stated. "A yellow kitchen with green tiles and wooden cabinets. Sam said you killed them in the kitchen. They were probably backed up against a wall, scared for their lives while you sprayed them down until they were nothing."