Page 69 of Six
And then he appeared like a damn dark knight, all broody and angry, and I came this close to purring when I saw him lifting Dick in the air. Fuck, maybe the kitty nickname is fitting.
Sully is smiling at me. “I like him. He’s like the good giant.”
I snort. But my humor dies as I hear a loud snapping noise, followed quickly by a cracking one, and then a deep moaning sound reminding me of wood breaking all coming from the house.
Thankfully, Lori comes back, handing me a wooden bat. He’s holding one as well.
“Why do you own two bats?” Sully’s puzzlement is justified by the fact that Lori hates sports. He only watches rugby to ogle the players.
“Protection, you twit.”
“For your car?” my brother asks, confused.
I don’t give my best friend the opportunity to reply. “Sully, lock yourself in the Jeep,” I order him. As soon as he nods, I run toward the house.
I’m not prepared for the destruction reigning in the living room. The sofa is leaning vertically against the kitchen counter. The armchair has been torn in half, white puffs of stuffing are spread all over the carpet among broken glass from the TV screen and empty cans. One wall has a huge hole in it, like someone punched it repeatedly.
“Fuck!” Lori is pointing to my right where—what I think is a bloody head—emerges through a gap in the wall that separates the bathroom from the living room. Thehead’s eye sockets seem empty under all the blood.
“He pierced the arsehole head through the bloody wall after fucking eye-gouging him,” my friend whispers, his voice reflects how baffled I feel. “Are you sure you want to keep going?”
My fear spikes tremendously, and my grip on the wooden bat tightens. But I have to check that he’s okay. “We need to find Rague,” I say with as much conviction as I can. That’s when the noise starts.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump
“What is that?” he asks. “It’s like…” The sound of an object hitting something—hard.
I gesture for him to follow me. We pass the bathroom, the door is open, and I see the rest of the body of the guy whose head is in the living room, hanging lifeless against the broken plaster.
“We’ve entered aKill Billmovie set.” I hear Lori swearing some more, but I continue walking until we enter Dick’s room. The air is heavy and almost suffocating. There are splatters of blood everywhere. The door is still on the floor, but a few feet away from the threshold. There’s a man on the bed with his neck and one leg at unnatural angles. His eyes are open and unseeing.
Dick, or what’s left of him, is sitting on the floor in a pool of blood, his back to the bed. His arms have been cut off and one is lying near him—every single finger crushed. Both legs are broken, white bones sticking out, and there’s a huge scarlet spot on his groin. His head is caved in, his face a crimson shapeless, pulpy puree. I feel my gag reflex coming to life and quickly cover my mouth with my hand while averting my eyes. It’s not like I’m sorry for him. He deserved it. All of it. Maybe more.
My gaze finds his other arm near the broken stereo in the corner.
“Bloody fucking burning blazing hell,” I hear Lori slowly enunciating every word at the horrid sight.
Thump. Thump.
The loud noise makes us spin around. I drop the bat on the floor when I see Rague standing, facing the wall. He’s bashing his head over and over against the wall, growling like a caged animal. He’s hitting it so hard that cracks are starting to appear and the plaster is turning crimson.
“Rague!” I call to him, and he freezes.
He’s panting like a bull, his shoulders rising and falling spasmodically. He pushes himself off the wall and turns my way. A horrified whimper leaves my mouth as dread and shock fill my chest.
He’s smeared with blood. His face, hands, clothes, everything is red. There’s a cut on his forehead that’s bleeding. A knife is sticking out of his left thigh and long, deep scratches cover his forearms. His hands are puffy and covered in cuts as they hang at his sides.
Oh my God, this is all my fault. He got hurt because of me. To saveme.
I take a hurried step toward him, but stop when I look into his eyes. They’re black as night, burning with fury. Not a smidge of humanity in their depths.
He looks completely…lost. There’s no trace of the Rague I know anywhere. He’s not sporting his usual frown. His body is vibrating with tension and fury. I’ve never seen him like this before. In the fighting ring, he’s a machine, precise and cold but conscious of his surroundings.
This person in front of me is consumed by rage. Judging from the massacre he left behind, he went on a killing spree. I glance at Dick, or at what is left of him—Rague must have kept hitting him even after Dick stopped struggling, stopped moving at all. My stomach is protesting again.
“What the hell happened?” Lori fidgets from one foot to another, and Rague’s eyes snap to him. His nostrils flare, sweat rolling down his face, lips curled up, showing his teeth. The same lips that make me stare with wonder when he tilts them into a smile. But he’s a feral beast now. And doesn’t seem to recognize us.
My heart beats out of control, and I’m unsure of what to do. I need to try something, though. So, I slowly step away from Lori, bringing Rague’s attention back to me. He’s huffing, hands balled up into fists, clenching and unclenching at his sides. His jaw works back and forth. His piercing, furious gaze bores into me.
