Youngblood Chronicles: Don't Panic

Chapter 16

When I woke up, I was tied down to a table. That was the first thing to register. There was a bright light above me, and I had to squint the brightness was so high. There were several people walking around me, messing with surgical tools and such. I could make out a few shapes, but nothing substantial for a while.

When I finally was able to regain control of my body, I felt the numbness began to fade away. The first thing I did was groan.

"Ugh, how long have I been out?" I asked. The figures kept walking around the room, messing with buttons, picking up and dropping various surgical tools.

"5 days." A gruff male voice replied. It sounded extremely familiar, but I couldn't place it, especially with the fog that engulfed my brain.

"Can I get something to eat? Maybe drink?" The fog was shrouding my senses. The people just kept walking around, fiddling with various items in the room. As they worked, I heard the door open, which helped me to snap back to reality.

"Hello Gale, how was your nap?" I tried to get up, but again, I was tied down.

"I wish I was still asleep. Dead preferably." My mother chuckled lightly.

"That could be arranged. My surgeons aren't the best there are." The four people stepped into the light, allowing me to see who they were. I screamed. In all their rock star glory were the Fallout Boys.

"You didn't! How did you turn Pete and Andy?!" My mom chuckled again.

"Well, you should know, you inherited your father's love for snooping." I looked into her eyes, the fury and wrath of everything had built up inside me, and know it felt as if it were going to explode.

"I can't believe, you would let a hate of music grow this much. Your head bitch #2! I can't believe someone as despicable as you could give birth to me. I don't even know why I'm here right now. If it weren't for you, I could be living a normal life, with normal friends. Instead, I'm the leader of a group of teens trying to stop you! And now that you've turned the Fall Out Boys, we've failed our mission!" My mother laughed again.

"If I had a video camera right now," She signaled for the boys to get back to work. "I will give you one chance to escape what is coming to you. And one chance only. Tell me where your base is, and help us take it out, and you'll be rewarded with the ability to join us in a painless ceremony. If not, you will be tortured daily until you break, and you will be brainwashed until you join us!" I looked at her. My heart broken into a million pieces.

"Where is the mother I remember from 10 years ago. The one that would bake cookies almost every night after dinner, the one that would read me stories before bed. Where is the mother that would take me and my big brother..."

"Shut up bitch! You don't even deserve to be called my daughter!" I felt everything fall to the ground, broken. She began to walk to the door.

"You're right. I don't deserve to be called your daughter. No one deserves to have a mother that would rather kill 1,000 than spend time with her family." My mother stopped in her tracks. She tensed, turning around so I could see hell's fire burning in her eyes.

"The reason I joined this was so you wouldn't have to suffer the same fate as your older brother. Do you know why Braden was never around after you turned 7? He was messing with things he shouldn't have. He got too close to the sun, and he got burned. I joined this so that you wouldn't have to suffer the same fate as him," She walked to the table, leaning down so her face was inches from mine. "But you have chosen to take a far worse fate than his." She walked to the door.

"Do as you wish." She slammed the door shut behind her, leaving me alone with the four former band members. They again began to look around the room, at least, it seemed this was what they were doing.

"What are you doing?" I asked. Pete walked up to me, his eyes glowing a cold yellow.

"We are going to torture you. Not something that will end in a day, or a week. But, we've been told to do something a little more.... Permanent." I shuddered as he walked over and undid the restraint on my left arm. Patrick and Andy walked over to me, Patrick holding something behind his back.

"Sit still, and this won't hurt, much." I didn't trust a word he said and desperately tried to free myself.

"Let me out! Don't you think of doing anything to me!" I waved my left arm, trying to get them away. However, Joe and Andy grabbed my arm and held it down. Patrick revealed what he had behind his back, an axe.

"Now hold still..." I screamed because I knew what he was about to do. As I screamed, he swung the axe. The axe made contact with the area right below my shoulder. I took a moment for my body to register the pain. But when it did, it was so excruciating, I could only say it was like a thousand migraine headaches in my arm. Well, my stump. Andy grabbed my arm and showed it to me.

"I think we're gonna put this in your mom's office," I couldn't bear the pain anymore. As I screamed, blood poured out of the wound. Knowing I would bleed to death, Joe came over with a needle and thread. I screamed, cringed, howled, and tried to kick Joe as he "stitched" the wound closed. When he was done, the wound was still losing blood, but there was now an ugly black line of stitches down the stump.

"Now we can take her to her cell," Patrick and the others undid the restraints on me. Pete grabbed my arm. Just before we left the room, Andy stopped us. He wrapped the wound with fresh bandages, then let us go. Pete and Patrick escorted me down.

They led me down the crowded hall, drawing stares from everyone in that hall. They then took her down a set of stairs into the basement. The led me into a room that had been remade into a cell. They threw me in, slamming the door shut behind me. Patrick turned around as he locked the door, smiling cruelly at me.

I rushed at the metal bars, using my one arm to try and rattle them. "How long will I be here?" I asked. Pete looked at me.

"Probably for the rest of your life. I mean unless you cooperate." The two turned and walked back toward the stairs.

My cell was bare, with only a cot chained to the back wall. It was 10ft by 10 ft, the walls were all white, with the exception of the front. I stared down the hall as Pete and Patrick left, gripping the bars.

"Patrick! Pete!" I yelled. They stopped and turned back, looking at me in my cell. I looked at them, suddenly feeling very bashful. "I'm sorry for everything I've done. I let my anger get in the way. I'm so, so sorry." Pete looked back, but Patrick scoffed at me.

"It's too late to apologize kid. It's too late." He and Pete climbed up the stairs and back to the main level. I hung my head and walked back and sat on my cot. I touched the little stump. It hurt pretty substantially when I touched it, causing me to shoot my arm back. I lay back on the cot, humming a song that my social studies teacher had played for the Declaration of Independence. I laughed. Such simple times. Ironically, the song was named To Late To Apologise. (It is a real song, you can find it on google music or on Youtube)

"It's too late to apologize! It's too late!" I sang, the words echoing off the walls of this empty place. I lay on the cot, the stump hanging just a tiny bit off the cot. I longed for the feeling of an arm hanging over the edge, but that feeling would never again touch my left side.

"So this is where I am. The ambush has succeeded, and the hunt has all but begun." I stared up at the ceiling, the one light semi blinding me. "And so, the Mighty Fall."

So, a slight change in the plan. I will be making a book two called Youngblood Chronicles: Fallen, Youngblood Chronicles: Youngest Blood, or something like that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this book. Peace Out!