Chapter 3

428 12 1
                                    

---time skip---

She finishes on my leg and wraps it, looking at my cheek.

"I should clean it," she says, wiping it with an alcohol wipe.

"And now, you're good to go back home," she says, helping me stand up.

"Oh wait! Take this," she says, handing me a handgun and a box of bullets.

"Keep it. I don't need it," she says, me thanking her and walking back home. 

As I walk, I load the gun and pull the chamber back, putting one in the chamber. I put it in my waistband and pull my shirt down over it, opening the front door and keeping on my shoes. I close the door and walk into the living room, sitting on the couch and holding up my leg. 

I see a giant rip in my jeans, so I go up to my room and open the pants drawer. I pick out another pair of jeans and change, putting my gun in my bra shoulder strap. I pick up another gun on my nightstand and check the clip, it being full. I check the chamber and it's empty. I'll use this to scare one of them. I zip up my fly and button it, hearing footsteps walking up the stairs to my room. 

I take out my gun and point it at the door, putting my trigger finger by the trigger guard. The door opens and it's the same guy who jerked off his nose. He looks at me and pauses, looking at the gun and his eyes widening.

"Put your hands up," I say, my voice hoarse from running and not being able to rest. He slowly puts his hands up and on the back of his head, lacing his fingers together.

"Turn around slowly," I command, the man turning around so his back's facing me.

"On the ground," I say, him slowly dropping to his knees. I walk to him and keep the gun trained on his head.

"I would like you to answer some questions," I say, him flipping me off. I push the barrel on the back of his head, and he stiffens.

"What questions," he asks.

"You'll hear them," I say. He sighs and gestures me on.

"How many are here," I ask.

"9 guys," he says.

"Who crawled to me in the kitchen?"

"Sid. He's the craziest."

"Who did I bump into outside?"

"Mick. He's the strongest."

"Who chased me in the woods?"

"Joey. He's the most athletic."

"Who are you?"

"Chris. I don't know what I am."

"Tell me everyone's names and special abilities."

"We go by numbers. So Sid would be 0; Joey would be 1; Paul, who's good at fighting is 2; I'm 3; Jim, who's extremely tall is 4; Craig, who's good at sneak attacks is 5; Clown, who carries a bat is 6; Mick is 7 and Corey, who's good at basically negotiating, persuading, chasing and fighting is 8."

"Who has weapons?"

"Paul has brass knuckles, Craig has a head of spikes, Clown has a bat, Mick has himself and Corey has a sport knife like yours."

"Why are you guys here?"

"Only Corey knows."

"Where are the others?"

"They're outside. They're waiting for me."

"We wouldn't want to keep them waiting," I say, taking the gun off of his head.

"On your feet," I command. 

He stands up and I push the gun against his back, making him walk. He walks down the stairs with his hands behind his head and we walk out the back door, which goes to the backyard. I grab the collar of his shirt and walk slightly behind him, but walking next to him as well. The guys see Chris, then me.

"You got her," one with the tattered and torn mask says, a happy smile on his face.

"Not exactly," Chris replies, making the other man's face drop into a confused stare.

"What do you mean? She's literally right there," he says, gesturing to me. I grip Chris' shirt and point the barrel at the other man's head, making him go wide-eyed.

"Oh, that's what you mean," he says, looking at the gun.

"Look, we don't want any harm done, so just put the gun down," the man says, starting to step towards me. He must be Corey.

"No. I need to know why you're chasing me," I say.

"Because I have a proposition. An offer you couldn't possibly pass up," Corey says, putting his hands up and out, stepping to me.

"Stop. I don't want to hear it," I say, putting my finger on the trigger. I was in the middle of nowhere, so the only person who would hear the gun would be the farmer.

"Okay, then let Chris go. You don't need a hostage," he says.

"I don't trust you a bit," I say, Corey stepping towards me again.

"And you shouldn't. But Chris doesn't deserve to be like this. I should," Corey says. I let go of Chris' shirt and push him to the guys. He stumbles and walks to them, putting his hands down after he makes to the other side.

"Good, now please put the gun down," he says, taking another step. He's about three feet away from me now.

"Does it even have bullets," Joey asks, his arms crossed. I pull the hammer back and shoot right in front of his feet, making him jump back.

"You have your answer," I say, Corey signaling Paul. I get my other gun out as he walks to me, pointing it at him.

"Clever girl," he says, stopping.

"What was your offer," I ask Corey.

"You've been living this same life for years, your whole life," he starts.

"So, what if you could travel around the world any time you want? Have anything from anywhere anytime," he continues, taking a step towards me.

"And, the best yet; you wouldn't be bothered with taxes, fees, money problems, things like that," he says, only a foot away.

"What's the catch," I ask. He pushes the gun down and I put it at my side, still keeping the other trained.

"Converting," he says.

"Explain."

"You would have to turn into one of us. We're what people call Smoke Demons," he says.

"I think you're lying," I say, pushing the gun against his chest.

"Why would I lie," he asks.

"You're out for blood," I say.

"If I was out for blood, you would already be dead," he says, a grin forming. I slowly drop the guns to my sides. He thinks he's won, but he hasn't.

The Nine- A Slipknot StoryWhere stories live. Discover now