"Listen, Brett."
My eyes land on Steve, who is tied to a wooden pole with barbed wire, in the middle of a clearing. He has several cuts from the wire and he's covered in blood. I watch with tears in my eyes, not able to move since Ricky holds a firm grip on my arm.
"People know that we're here. They're going to call the police. If you let us go, I swear on my life, I won't tell anyone, neither will Jenny and Maysa." He pleads and I see some of the kids glance at each other, as if they are thinking it over. "Look, guy's, please. We can stop this. Nobody's died yet."
"My fucking dog died though!" Brett shouts angrily.
"I'm sorry, it was an accident."
Brett bites his lip before turning around. He storms over to me and pulls me away from Ricky, "there's gonna be another accident here!" He sounds more and more angry with every word he says. He pushes me onto the ground and I wince in pain as I land on my back. Before I can even try to get up, Brett gets on top of me, straddling my waist and wrapping his hands firmly around my throat. I try and gasp for air and move my hands to his in a desperate attempt to pull his hands away from my throat, but that only causes for him to squeeze harder. I look up at him and plead with my eyes for him to stop as I keep hitting his chest, my lungs feeling as if they're about to burst. "And wait what happens to your girlfriend after I kill this bitch!"
I feel a weight lift off me right before I feel like I'll lose consciousness. I sit up and cough, my hands moving towards my now hurting throat, which will definitely bruise. I look to see Harry pull Brett away from me. Brett then pushes him, hitting him on the head, "get the fuck off me! Fucking little prick!"
"Let's not be head- loose, right?" Harry says, while Brett has a hold of his grey, long sleeved sweater.
"Who are you calling head- loose?"
"Let's not be rash."
I slowly get up from the ground and look at Harry, feeling a small amount of pride upon seeing him stand up to Brett.
"First phone they see, 999- who's fucking head- loose?" Brett points at Steve and then at me, the grey fabric of Harry's sweater still in his hand.
"No, this is rash shit, man." Harry shakes his head, "I never touched them."
Brett scoffs, "what, you didn't touch them?"
"No, mate."
"I'm pretty sure you touched her," Brett nods his head towards me, "weren't you the one carrying her here?"
"I mean, I didn't hurt them."
I watch as they just keep looking at each other. My eyes shift to Harry, who looks terrified. Brett then pulls out a knife and holds it against his cheek, Harry gulping in fear.
I start to feel furious, not able to believe he'd threaten his own friends with a weapon. I take a step, ready to charge at Brett. But I'm being held back by Ricky, who places an arm around my throat and holds me tight against him, my back against his chest.
"Him or me." Brett tells him, giving him two options to choose from. "You wanna front, you wanna act like the fucking big man? You'll step up now."
"Alright," He licks his lips as Brett pulls out another knife and hands it to Harry, who hesitantly takes it.
My eyes widen in fear when I realize what Brett wants him to do.
"Jesus." Steve hisses through gritted teeth, also seeming to understand.
"Paige, get this." Brett demands for her to record it with her phone. She immediately obeys without question, getting her phone as she starts recording.
"Don't fucking record it, man." Harry swallows, slowly making his way over to Steve.
"No, wait!" Fear can easily be heard in Steve's voice.
"Wait!" I shout. "Please, don't do this... This is a mistake!" My eyes lock with Harry's as I silently plead for him not to do this. He stops and stands still and I can see him hesitate.
Brett then rushes over in my direction and Ricky pushes me towards him. Brett pushes me against a tree, holding the knife against my throat. He obviously knows that I'm Harry's weak spot. I hold my breath, afraid he will slit my throat if I as much as make one tiny move. "Go on, then." He urges Harry, pressing the blade into my skin. I look over his shoulder to see Harry looking at me, he is trying to let me know that he doesn't want to be a part of this. Despite that, he slowly walks up to Steve, gripping the knife tight as it seems as if he's still feeling hesitant and afraid.
"Fuck you!" Steve cries, trying to kick him away.
I watch as he bents down next to him and makes a small cut in his upper arm. I wince at the sound of Steve groaning in pain. Brett still has me pinned against the tree and moves the knife, placing it against my cheek like he did to Harry just before. I gulp, suddenly understanding why Harry is so afraid to turn against him or to even disagree with him. Brett lowers the knife and strides over towards Harry, roughly pulling me along and I flinch at his painfully tight grip on my arm as he stops and looks down at the cut on Steve's arm, "no. That's not even a proper cut. Deeper!"
Harry doesn't move nor does he respond and I look to see Paige is still recording. I can see some kind of look of disapproval on her face, but she doesn't dare to even say a word.
"No." I choke out. "It is enough. Stop." Before I can say or do anything else, Brett moves up his hand and slaps me hard across the face. I cower a little in fear and one of my hands immediately touches my face where he has slapped me, feeling it sting. Tears threaten to spill as Brett agressively jumps in Harry's way, shouting in his ear, "deeper!"
Without even thinking, Harry plants the knife into the same cut as Steve groans in pain. Harry instantly drops the knife and runs up to a nearby tree, vomiting. He stands up straight and blinks a couple of times, as if he is trying to process what just happened. Like he cannot believe what he has just done.
Brett picks up the knife, moving it around in his hand, "alright, now everyone'll have a dig."
My eyes widen in shock upon hearing his words, not willing to believe he'll make all of his friends participate in this madness. But if all of his friends participate, no one will tell, which are exactly his intensions. "What? No!" I try to break myself free from his grip, but his grip on my wrist is too tight.
Brett walks over to Harry, pulling me with him, before pushing me forwards, "Harry, hold the bitch." I fall against Harry, colliding with his chest as he is taller than I am. As I turn myself around, I can feel Harry grabbing onto my arm. But I can already tell his grip is not as tight as Brett's.
I see Brett turn to Mark, "Marky Mark."
Mark pulls out his own knife, before standing up from the tree trunk he was sitting on and makes his way over to Steve.
"Oh, man, I can't fucking see this." Ricky says, turning away from the scene.
Mark grips tightly onto the knife before stabbing Steve in his side. A tear escapes my eye as Mark pulls out the knife and Steve's ear piercing screams of pain fill my ears as I see blood flowing out of the wound. I turn my head, looking away from the scene as another tear rolls down my cheek.
"No." Footsteps come my way and I turn my head to see Brett striding over to me. My first instinct is to back away, my back hitting Harry's chest. Brett stops in front of me and I shrink under his hard stare, "no looking away. I want you to see how we torture the fucker."
I glare up at him, tears brimming in my eyes, "you are sick. You are a monster." I mentally prepare myself, expecting to be punched, hit or kicked. But instead, he just smirks down at me, as if I have just complimented him.
He then turns towards Ricky, "Ricky Dicky." Ricky turns upon hearing his name, standing still for a second before taking the knife. He jumps back and forth in front of Steve and it almost looks as if he's stalling.
"Go on, then." Brett says, clearly impatient.
Ricky plunges the knife into Steve's stomach. Steve groans in pain as Ricky pulls the knife back out, blood splattering onto his shoe, making him jump back, "shit! My shoe! These are fucking Gold Tops, man. Brand new!" He acts as if nothing has happened. As if he didn't just stab an innocent person for no reason at all and it makes me feel nauseas.
"You little fuckwit." Brett laughs, causing for me to look at him in disgust. "Cooper!" I look up at the sound of Brett's voice, seeing the blonde sixteen year old emerge from behind the trees, a bike in his hands. He places the bike against a tree and walks into the clearing. "Bang on, mate, you're up!"
"What?" He looks confused as he joins us in the clearing, although he doesn't get any time to take in the situation, since Brett pulls him in front of Steve, putting the knife in his hands. He turns to Paige who has lowered her phone, "Paige, keep that phone up." He orders her and she immediately obeys. "Right, Coops, everyone has a dig."
Cooper doesn't respond in any sort of way. He just looks down at Steve who is pleading for his life, "come on, come on, please."
Cooper moves to turn around, ready to bolt, "Brett, I can't."
Brett grabs him by the face, moving closer to him, "for fuck's sake! Listen! We are all in this together. Go on!" He lets go of him and takes a step back.
"He's scared." Harry says as Cooper still won't move.
I nod my head in agreement, "yes, he is. You are a sick fuck!" I raise my voice, glaring at Brett who only laughs in return.
Cooper is eventually the first to break the silence, his voice trembling slightly, "I'm not scared."
"Listen," Brett begins, "He's heard all of our fucking names. Either do it or he's gonna spil. Do it. Cut his fucking tongue out!"
Cooper sticks the knife into Steve's mouth, moving it around as blood is dripping out of his mouth. Brett wipes some of the blood off Steve's face and wipes it onto Cooper's face, "look, it's Tony Montana!" He laughs, while Cooper is breathing heavily. "Alright, now we've got to finish this."
My eyes widen and I see some of the kids glance at each other, before looking down at the ground, all of them too scared to say anything.
"Please, please." Steve cries and I keep looking around, hoping someone will step up.
"Wait." Brett turns to face me, a sick grin on his face, "your turn." He walks up to me with the knife in his hand. I shake my head rapidly as I mumble 'no' under my breath, over and over. He grabs my wrist, squeezing it painfully and I barely manage to stay silent. There is nothing he likes more than seeing people in pain. It fuels him, making him do even worse things. He lowers his lips until they are touching my earlobe, causing a shiver to run down my spine, "if you don't do this, you will be very sorry. Now do what I said, cut the fucker."
"Come on, mate." I hear Harry say from behind me. "Back off."
Brett lets go of my wrist and takes a few steps back, looking at Harry dumbfounded. "Why do you keep standing up for her, mate. Are you still her friend or what? The last thing I remember is hearing you telling her that you don't love her, that you don't care about her."
Steve looks at us, a frown on his face as he is trying to understand the situation. I open my mouth to speak, but Steve's ringtone interrupts me. Brett pulls out the phone from his pocket, his eyes scanning the screen. "Bluetooth, she's fucking here." He puts away the phone, his eyes scanning the area. And what disturbs me the most is the murderous look in his eyes.