The Pit

Chapter 2 - The Gorilla

The bus is hot and uncomfortable as is bumps along the road. It is the size of a full school bus, but the entire body is painted black. There are small metal poles that are connected to the walls in each row of seats, for the prisoners' handcuffs to be connected to. The seats are regular gray and torn in many places with yellow foam sprouting from the inside of the seats. The ground has crumbs and wrappers everywhere, this place has obviously not been cleaned, ever.

            When I first stepped onto the bus, the driver unlocked the metal cage that separates the driver from the rest of the bus, and I walked into the bus and scanned the seats as I squeezed through the seats until I reached a seat that looks somewhat decent to sit on. Once there I plopped down onto the seat that is a little bit in front of the middle of the bus. After, I took my seat and my handcuffs have stopped jingling the driver came back and unlocks one of my handcuffs. He bent over me, swiftly moving the cuff behind the bar on the wall and brings it around. My hand was pulled by his quick movement of the cuff. While I am scrabbling to get my balance back he attaches the cuff back to my wrist and I am now connected to the pole by the chains of the handcuffs. Without a second to lose, he races back to the metal grate in the front of the bus and locks it, once he finishes that task he looks down to the guard at the bottom of the stairs and nods once saying that it is time for him to go. He wobbles back to his chair, closes the door, and starts the engine, but all of that was just over an hour ago.

            At the moment, I am the only person on the bus, besides the driver, and he refuses to talk to me. I tried asking him where we are going, what his name is, what time it is, and I even rattled on about the weather for a little bit. After ten minutes of trying I gave up, he won't talk to me, I can't even get a reaction out of him. With him not talking the bus is actually quiet, except for the roaring of the engine as we speed down some random highway. Honestly, I don't mind the quiet, it's relaxing after the past few weeks of people pestering me. On the other hand, some noise would be a good distraction for all of the thoughts that are whirling around in my head.

            The handcuffs glint and sparkle in the sunlight that pours through the window. Just a piece of metal, cold and dead around my hands. The jingle constantly, moving as the bus speeds down the road. They keep me here, attached to this place with no hope for escape.

            After what I assume is another ten minutes, my handcuffs are killing me. I am leaning awkwardly against the wall, staring out the window, with my hand dangling in the air. Every bump my hands shriek in pain, and are digging into my flesh just hanging there. Quickly, I bend my head so I can rummage my hands through my hair looking, searching for a bobby pin. The guards never did do a thorough check of my hair. Once it is found, I carefully work it out of my hair and then move it so it can get to the lock on the cuffs.

It takes a while, but I eventually get my hands out of my handcuffs. The cuffs now dangle on the wall, jingling softly as the bus continues to sway, bump, and move. Not for long though, the bus has begun to slow down as we enter some other city. Skyscrapers soar over the land, cars pack the streets and people rush to and fro. We come up to a police station and the driver pulls the bus to the back entrance where a boy, who looks like a man is walking up to the bus with four guards tailing him, watching his every movement. The guy is taller than the other four guards that surround him, he's probably around six foot four. They make room for the guy to walk as he steps forward to the bus as the driver opens the door.

The bus dips down under his weight as he steps up the stairs where the metal gate is open, inviting him in. He continues to walk closer to me as he stomps through the isle, I peak my head slightly up to get a better look. He has short brown hair that has slightly started growing out and a scar that starts at his temple then disappears into his hairline. His eyes are scanning the seats, just as I did when I first walked on, as his eyes continue to move they catch sight of me. There is dark glee coming from the center of those cold and menacing eyes. He has stopped scanning and is heading straight for me. I am about to look away, but I can't move, his dark brown eyes are like a black hole. Slowly, the beginnings of a smile creep to the corners of his mouth. One step, then another, the whole bus shakes as this giant walks toward me. Stopping at my seat, he turns and drops down right across from me.