The World Below [DNF]

Chapter 23: To kill or get killed

George POV

An uneasy feeling was settling in George's stomach. He'd left Clay in his backyard and knew that he would've to explain this somehow when he got back. But his full focus was now trying to figure out what his dad had in store for him this fine night. 

The two bodyguard joined them shortly after they'd left George's house. He found himself sitting in a car, on the way to yet another unknown destination. One of the bodyguards was driving and his father was in the passenger seat. George sat in the back with the other man, whose identity still remained a secret. The drive was short and lead to a dark, seemingly abandon facility. The bad feeling remained.

It was dark as they entered the building, but distant bickering could be heard in the distance. It appeared to be a rather heated argument.

"Do you have your knife, son?" It was an unexpected question and as George patted his ankles, he realized that he'd left it in his room. "No." His dad proceeded to pull out a similar knife and handing it to him. George took it, still confused why he needed the knife.

Bright lights lit up the room, leaving George blinded for a second. When his vision returned, it looked like he was standing in an abandum boxing stadium. A harsh push made George stumble forward, getting closer to the dusty boxing-ring. Two other men were pulling another yelling and pleading man closer to the ring.

George felt the panic rise in his chest. "What the hell is going on?" 

His dad's cold eyes met his stare and an ominous smile was spreading across the man's face. "Well, George. You certainly proved that you got no issue hurting someone else for own personal gain." George lowered his gaze and his cheeks heated up in embarrassment at the peak about the school-incident.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled quietly. 

"Oh, don't be. It admirable, it shows that you got what it takes." 

George gazed around in a desperate attempt at finding any sort of answers. "What's that supposed to m– " But he got cut off when two men lifted him up and threw him in the dusty boxing-ring. The knife fell out of his hand due to the impact when his body connection with the ground. The yelling man was given the same treatment and was now looking around in horror as he sat in the same ring.

George's dad became visible as he stood outside the grind of the ring and glanced between George and the petrified man.

He turned to face the man, who was shaking in fear. "Gary, do you know why you're here?" 

The man tried to stand but failed, it was clear that he'd been abused. "No, sir, I don't." 

His dad smirked. "Oh, but I think you do. You've been stealing money from my company for months. Isn't that a bit dishonest?" 

The man's eyes widened. "I swear that I've never done such a th–" The sentence was cut short when a punch was thrown at his face making the man shut up.

"Lying in an awful quality, don't you agree?" The man agreed with an agonizing nod. "But I'm a fair man and will give you a chance to redeem your name, to prove yourself useful."

George had been watching in fear upon that point. Because that's when his roll in all of this clicked. He was going to have to fight this poor man. It was a terrifying thought. Even more terrifying when he saw how unstable the man seemed to be 

And there's no stopping a person who's desperate enough.

"So, you'll fight my son. If you win, I'll ignore your previous actions. If you don't– well, I guess I'll see you in hell." George already knew what was required to win. One would need to kill the other.

"Let not waste time, begin!" George barely registered the words before Gary was up and running towards him. The man had an animalistic look in his eyes and George knew that he wouldn't hesitate to kill him. The man jumped on top of him and managed to press a knee on George's throat. 

He was already at a disadvantaged. The guy was bigger and way more desperate. The lack of air caused his vision to blur, but George refused to accept death that easily. He succeeded to get a hold of the man's wrist and did the only thing he could think of. He jerked the man forward with all the strength he managed to conquer and bit the man's wrist as hard as he could. It was an act out of desperation, but it served its purpose. The man screamed out in pain an lifted his knee from George's airways. George took to opportunity to roll away. He needed a plan. Physically, he was outmatched, but he knew that his opponent wasn't thinking clearly, which could be used to his advantaged. Sure, the man was more desperate, but could easily cause him to make impulsive mistakes.

A silver object glimmered to his right. The knife suddenly made sense. His dad wanted him to kill this man. It would prove that he was willing to sacrifice his own son, which sent a quite strong "don't fuck with me"-message. But George knew that it was a way to test how far he was willing to go as well.

 He remembered how his dad had preached the fact to always be one step ahead. He'd given George an advantage by giving him the knife, but his dad wouldn't lose anything no matter the outcome of the situation. If George won, it would show the consequences of messing with his dad. If George lost then it would signal to the surrounding regarding how little human life meant to his dad. Showing that even his son was nothing more than an insignificant pawn. 

It was all a display of power.

George's set sight for the knife, but he wasn't the only one who'd noticed the object. They both reached for the knife at the same time. George was quicker but was once again kicked to the ground. Two hands reached around his neck and started squeezing merciless. 

Despite the knife, George knew that he was fighting a loosing battle. No one tried to interfere. They all just watched him slowly dying. He met his father's gaze; the look of disappointment was prominent. That's when George finally gave up. He could never kill this man. He was just a person who got messed up with the wrong people. He could have a family, children, a job he loved. George had no right to risk causing his potential family that loss. It wasn't their fault and George felt like he'd nothing that was worth killing another human for.

The man showed no sign of stopping and that peace that people talk about when they are about to die slowly overtook his body. Suddenly, everything felt okay. He'd lived seventeen years. He'd experienced heartbreak, sorrow and loneliness. But he'd also experienced friendship and love. He remembered his conversation with Clay regarding the theory that you get to experience your best memories over and over when you die. George sure hoped that it was the case. When Clay had asked him back then about his favorite memories, it'd been a difficult question. 

But now he knew. Now he knew that the blonde boy, that he'd barely known for half a year, had improved his life in ways that he would never understand. 

It was just a shame that they didn't get more time together and that George would never get the chance to tell him exactly how much he loved him. But Clay also deserved better, better than him.

Life started to slip away. His mind was all over the place. What really happened to his mom? Would she be proud of him or resent him for following his dad's footsteps?

Loud noises erupted around him, but he was too lightheaded to figure out what was causing them. Even the loud sounds slowly faded and George accepted what was bound to happen. 

Hopefully, someone would miss him, was the last he remembered thinking before passing out.