"What?!" the blonde one-who I learned is James-exclaims when he hears what Jack has to say.
The young, brown haired one-named Aaron-speaks up, "I think it's fair. Almost. You should throw in free pizza once a week and a guaranteed spot in your section."
I nod, "Deal."
"What about my fingers?" Johnny, the dark haired one asks, frustrated.
"Say you lost them while doing some kind of work, Vincent will compensate for medical bills. I'll make sure of it." I say.
James huffs, not interested in making this deal. "What about, in exchange for my silence, you tell me exactly what's going on in this place?"
I shake my head, "I-I can't tell you.." I say shyly. I honestly can't. The more they know, the more danger they're in. Vincent wouldn't let any information leak, it's bad enough they've seen this much. I didn't know I was capable of any of this.
"Let's not tell your boss what happened either," Aaron says.
I shake my head and point to the camera in the corner of the auditorium, "I bet he already knows." I say. I glance at the clock, it's 10:30. I doubt Vincent will be leaving tonight, which means I won't get to escape. I look back at the guys.
"Okay, we'll honor this deal," Johnny says, ushering the younger ones to the door with him. Holding his dismembered fingers in a napkin as he goes. I hope I didn't cause too much problems.
I look at James. Who's still standing here with me. "I want to know what's going on here."
"And I said I can't tell you. Now go with your friends." I say, turning to leave but I feel his hand wrap around my arm, holding me there. I take a deep breath, not wanting to hurt him.
"Then tell me something. The sword-"
"I don't know," I interrupt, looking at him, "tonight is the first time I've ever seen it.." I say softly, hoping Vincent isn't listening.
James frowns, "Somehow I don't believe you."
"You don't have to, you don't know me..." I say.
He hums, a similar sound to Vincent's hum. Vincent probably watched that entire thing. I bet his goal was for me to kill all of them. I just want to leave. But I know I shouldn't. Peter told me that last time we tried to leave we got hurt. What if Vincent hurts or kills them because I want to leave. Or what if I spend my whole life running from him? I doubt he's going to give up easily. And he's smart, no matter what I do he's always going to be multiple steps ahead of me. I can't compete with him. I bet he'll find me.
I feel a hand gently stroke my hair and I look up at James. He's not looking at my eyes, he's admiring my hair. He looks like a deer watching headlights. I shudder and move back, stepping away just enough for my hair to slip through his fingers. He looks at me. "Why don't you tell me what he did?" He asks.
"Because you don't need to know. I appreciate you and your friends keeping it quiet. I apologize for the harm I caused. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I just was defending myself," I say, bowing my head respectively.
I feel James grab my chin and pull so that I look at him. As soon as our eyes meet, I see the blade of the knife come up to my face, but I don't have enough time to react. I feel him drag the blade across my cheek. I step back quickly. It stings. I put my hand on my cheek for a moment then pulling it away to see blood. My blood. I look up at him.
I can sense that I'm angry. I don't know why I'm angry about this, but I am. Without thinking before, I advance on him, swinging my arms horizontally from the right to the left of his body. I don't get any response from him as his top half falls back and his bottom half falls forward.
I don't know what happened. I gasp and retreat quickly. I cover my mouth with my hand. Why did I do that? Why wasn't I in control of myself? He didn't deserve that for cutting me. I look up to the kitchen doorway. Vincent walks out, indifferent to the dead body on the floor. He heads out the front door to the car outside. Soon after, Andrew and Sal head out.
They all come in carrying corpses over their shoulders. The boys. I want to cry for them but I feel numb. I just killed someone. I wasn't in control of my own body. What did Vincent whisper to me. Did he plan on this? Why did James cut me like that, did he not think I was a human? I'm so confused. I don't understand what all has gone on today.
After a few minutes, Sal and Andy come out and take Jame's pieces back to put them wherever they took the other three. Vincent must have killed them. He knew they wouldn't stay quiet once they found out that I killed James.
I lean against the wall. Looking at the floor where the blood is pooled in the carpet. My heart is pounding and I'm nauseous. I can't believe I just did that. I want to yell at myself for doing something like that. Why did I hurt him? Why did I kill him like that? There were many, far less gruesome ways to kill. And I cut the man in half?
I look up and watch Vincent walk across the room to me. I don't want to be around him. He made me kill someone. And he doesn't seem to care at all about it.
He walks directly up at me. His hand raising, most likely to check the cut on my cheek but I push his hand away, turning my face to avoid looking at him. "Leave me alone."
"You did fine, Alex," he says coaxingly. His hand comes towards my face again, and when I try to push his hand away, he grabs my wrist. I look at him. My eyes are swelled with tears but I'm angry. Pissed that he made me do that. "You're fine."
"No, I'm not," I say, my voice sounding shaken up. "I didn't mean to do that. I didn't want to kill him."
"I know you didn't, but you have to learn how to protect yourself." He says nonchalantly. He uses his other hand to wipe my cheek which still stings from getting cut. I suck air through my teeth, making a hissing sound as I wince.
"You brought them here just to make me kill them?" I ask, looking at him when his hand moves away.
He smiles, "Yes, Love."
I look away again. "I want to go to bed, Vincent."
"Is that an invitation?"
I yank my hand away and push past him to head to my room. Not bothering to tell him to stop following when I hear his feet pattering behind me. I'm not going to get to leave tonight. And I know the others are already aware we're not leaving. I doubt Vincent had Michael come in tonight since he's here.
"You don't have to stay," I protest when I get in my bedroom, which Vincent happily followed into.
"But you're upset with me," he says.
I turn around and look at him, "Of course I am!" I exclaim. "You just made me kill someone, Vincent! I don't want to kill people!"
He gives me an amused smile. He doesn't care. I don't know why I expected any different. I huff and lay down, pulling the blankets over my head.
I hear him open the drawer by my head, "You should get changed." He says as he pulls the blanket off, putting the nightgown on top of me.
I don't respond. I don't care. And if I protest he's going to make me change anyways. I quickly strip and put the gown on, then get back into bed. Vincent picks up my clothes, carrying them to the other side of the bed and putting them into a basket, then coming back over to me.
I watch him squat and pull up the chain. I begrudgingly give him my wrist and he puts the cuff on me.
He bends over and kisses my forehead, "It'll be alright." He says softly. "I'm heading home for the night. Remember you're not allowed to let the night guard see you. He'll be here in half an hour. I'll lock your door from the inside so that he can't get in. You'll be safe."
I nod, "Thanks, Vincent." I say softly. I feel tired. I watch Vincent leave and I close my eyes. Maybe I will get to leave. I can't wait to get out of here.