Break Free: H2O Vanoss

Chapter 9: Los Santos

Brock's POV:
"What the fuck?" I mumbled confused. I was tied to a metal operating bed in the center of a grimy basement-like room. The room was quite dim and it was very hard to see. The only source of light came from the small light bulb hanging onto the ceiling by a thread. In the corner of the room was a cart filled to the brim with torturing tools. Panic arose in my gut causing me to struggle against the tight binds.

"So you're finally awake!" A masked man boomed from the now open doorway. "I thought you actually dyed there for a second." His nasty chuckle sounded throughout the room. I remained silent, my face stone cold.

"So, what's your name?" He asked, almost innocently. Silence.

"Not much of a talker, aye?" He cackled. "I can fix that." He swiftly walked to his cart of 'tools'. He seemed to be deep in though as if choosing one of the devices was the hardest decision of his life. With a satisfied sound, he picked up the simplest tool ever, a butcher knife. A menacing smile seemed to radiate off of him as he slowly make he way to me. Twiddling the knife in his hands, he circled around the bed observing my almost nude body; I was only in my boxers. He firmly gripped my upper thigh, gently placing the sharp edge of the knife on it.

I sucked in a deep breath; I've hated pain ever since I was little. However, I sucked it up for the sake of my gang. I knew that pain was involved in what I agreed on doing, so I just sucked it up.

"Still not going to talk?" He pouted. "Oh well." He sliced my thigh, deep. The bright red blood gushed out of my thigh at an alarming rate. "Care for more?" He asked moving closer to mini me. I furiously shook my head; the thoughts of my dick getting chopped off weren't pleasant. "Then speak."

"Moo," I mumbled out. "My name is Moo."

"Not the answer but that'll do," he spoke putting up the bloody knife. "For now."

"What do you even want?" I spat out, ignoring the mind numbing pain in my thigh.

"Isn't this simple?" He questioned. "We are in a hero/villain scenario. I want what I can't have dumbass. But the thing is unlike all these pussy happy-ending cartoons, I'm going to kill every single thing in my way. Starting with you. All I need is some basic information, and then you're dead!"

"What makes you think I'm going to give up information about whatever you want?"

"Cause I know that you're going to tell me everything you know about Jonathan,"

"W-What?! No I won't!"

"Do you want him to get hurt?"

"No!"

"Then yes, you are," he cackled. "And once you do, each and every one of you are going to be picked off until it's only going to be little ol' Jonny boy. Confused and hopeless, he'll have no choice but to seek comfort in the one person he recently got close to..."

"You're not going to get away with this. No one ever does..."

"That only happens in cartoons, Moo. This is real life or have you already forgotten?"

Evan's POV:
"I'll miss you," Sark mumbled tear-eyed.

"As will I," I said engulfing him in a 'bro-hug'. We were outside of the airport terminal; my flight was bound to leave in less than a hour.

"Well," Sark began, "you have to go now or you're going to be late. Do you have your passport? The money? Clothes?" Chuckling at his rambling, I nodded my head. "Call me if you need anything, I mean it. I know a hell of a lot of people that will do anything and everything I ask..."

"Okay!" I laughed. "I'll hit you up if I help. Stop acting like a father." Rolling his eyes, he lightly punched my shoulder.

"Seriously though," Sark sighed. "Hurry before you get left behind." With one last sad smile, I made my way into the airport. Passing through security with no problems, I rested on a chair in the waiting area. I started to think through things once again.