Quietly, Quiggly stepped into the darkness as he stealthily approached and steeled himself to take action. The room was as he’d thought. Silly Quiggly. You’re not thinking this through. You’re not thinking this through. You’re not thinking this through… Just because the other two were gone, that didn’t mean this would be easy. He’d need to be careful, he wouldn’t want to give the boys the satisfaction of being wrong about him. Quiggly’s heart was pounding as he began his sneak attack. It would be like a movie, but without all the plot twists and turns. There was a lot of work to be done. He needed something hard, sharp, and heavy. He needed something that would make a good weapon to defend himself with. There’d be no one to help him here, and Quiggly figured he’d have to defend himself if there was an attack. It would take a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the pitch blackness. He’d need to pick something with good light hitting it, like a hard edge of something. A few moments later, he saw his pick. It was still attached to his belt, and he pulled it out. He felt his heart rate start to rise as he gripped the handle, and he heard it click and start to scrape against the floor. Just a few more moments. This was so much easier with his light and gun. He knew what he was going to do, but doing it with the pick would take care and finesse. Suddenly, he heard a noise he recognized. It was the noise he was familiar with. The noise he and his sister used to make. The noise they’d make in the back of the house when they were kids. Sighing, he said, “I’m sure Mom will get mad if she hears that…” Without warning, Quiggly felt his neck begin to stiffen, and then a sharp, stabbing pain as he felt a knife go through his throat and stab his jugular vein. With a gasp of pain and fear, he grabbed the knife and twisted, trying to pull it from his throat. It was futile, and as he looked up at the boy who had stabbed him, he realized that the knife had entered his neck after the boy had left the room, and not when he had entered the room, as Quiggly had thought. “Aha, it’s not the other two, but you did it,” the boy said. “I didn’t think it would work on you. You’re not good enough for the others. They thought they’d get someone of my caliber to do this for them.” Quiggly started to cry and his eyes filled with tears. He was angry, he was hurt, and he was scared. There was no one there to help him, no one to call, no one to yell to, and he had no plan. He was supposed to be on top of the world. He was supposed to be a pro at all this. “Why? Why do you keep doing this?” The boy looked at him sternly, with a look that was more menacing than before. He was older now, but Quiggly thought he still had that look. “I’m keeping up with my training.” With a shrug, he said, “I don’t know how it is you think, but if you believe what you were taught, that’s no excuse for hurting people.” “It isn’t,” Quiggly replied. Â “Why do you do this? I thought I could win… that if I did what I was told, I’d be great. Now it turns out that’s not true,” Quiggly continued. The boy stared at him, not saying anything. He still didn’t know what was going on. He seemed to have forgotten his knife, and now he was staring at the boy curiously, thinking about what he’d seen. “Come with me,” the boy said. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Quiggly’s head was swimming with thoughts of what he’d just seen. The boy could have been there a few hours, he wasn’t sure. His head felt like it was going to burst and there was a throbbing in his head from the blow. He wanted to go home. He wanted to know what he’d just seen. He wanted to know if this was a dream. He was worried that maybe his sister had gotten to him somehow. He couldn’t remember anything she’d ever said to him. It was all just an illusion. It was all just an illusion. I thought I was going to die, and then he woke up, but it’s just a dream. “You know that’s not true, right? You don’t have to come with me. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do anything. Just run.” “My name’s Quiggly, and you’re right, it isn’t true,” Quiggly said. “I’m sorry.” He walked out into the cold room as the boy locked the door. The boy grabbed Quiggly by the hair and dragged him into a large room. “This is my special project room,” the boy said, pulling Quiggly in front of him, and the look on his face was the most sinister Quiggly had ever seen. It was like the boy was trying to convince himself that what he was doing was right. It was what had been ordered to him, and he knew it. It was no dream, and he knew it. Quiggly stopped struggling and dropped his eyes. If it was a dream, it was the worst one he’d had in a long time. “Did you really think I was going to let you off the hook that easily?” It was only then that Quiggly began to feel fear, a fear that seemed to come out of nowhere. He couldn’t let himself feel it. “You can run,” the boy said. “I’ll find you. I know what you did.” With that, the boy began to laugh. “Oh, look at you,” he said. “So small and powerless. You never even put up a fight, did you? You just lie there and let me do all of the work. You’re a coward.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quiggly said. He thought it was the best thing to say, at least until he could find some answers. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not scared of you,” he continued. “I’m not going to run.” The boy looked at him and smirked. “I’m not lying,” Quiggly continued. “You are the one who’s lying. You’re the one who’s making it up.” “I could make you tell me where you’re hiding, but I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell you where to find the girl. I’ll find her and then I’ll torture her before I kill her.” “I’m not lying,” Quiggly said again. “You can’t lie to me. It’s already happened. You lied about everything. You should have run when you saw the knife in my hand. You should have said something.” The boy reached out and grabbed Quiggly by the shirt and pulled him closer. He was now within spitting distance and Quiggly could see the blood on the boy’s lips. “If you don’t run, you’re going to die. I’ll find you, and then I’ll cut you up and put you in one of those barrels I used on the other one. I’ll cut your head off, I’ll cut your legs off. Then I’ll find your other body and do the same thing. Then I’ll be done. It’ll take me a while, I don’t want to cut into you the same place twice.” Quiggly said nothing. He was so scared that he could barely move. “I’ll get you, I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.” “I know you will,” Quiggly said. “You’ve always done what you were told.” “This time, I’m doing what I was told to do,” the boy said. With that, he lunged towards Quiggly and began to cut him. Quiggly saw the knife. He saw it and thought he was going to die. It wasn’t possible that the boy was real. He could not have been here. He was just a dream, but there was blood on his hands, and now he was coming at him with a knife. He tried to scream, but the boy put his hands over Quiggly’s mouth, and pushed the knife up towards Quiggly’s throat, cutting into his neck and shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do,” Quiggly said. “It’s too late.” With that, he began to gasp for air. The knife moved closer and closer, and then the boy laughed. He said, “I think I’m finally going to kill you,” and then he drew the knife back and stabbed Quiggly in the stomach. Quiggly gagged and groaned and then he was hit in the head with the butt of a rifle. The blow left Quiggly lying on the floor and dazed. He looked up and saw the boy, and tried to move, but he was being held down by a bunch of guards. “I knew you were a lying,” the boy said. “I knew you would never tell me anything.” He pulled the blade from Quiggly’s stomach and threw it to the ground. “I don’t care if you are lying,” he said. “You’re going to die. I’m going to kill you. I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.” With that, the guards pulled Quiggly to his feet. “You are in so much trouble,” the boy said. “You should have ran. You should have run.” “Why?” Quiggly asked. “I don’t have anything to do with this girl. Why would you care about her?” “She’s going to kill you,” the boy said. “She’s going to torture you.” “Kill me? Torture me? What? What are you talking about?” “It’s true,” the boy said, “and you’re going to see for yourself.” He threw the boy’s knife to the ground. The knife rolled around and Quiggly noticed it was covered in blood. He realized now that the boy’s first cut was meant for him. With that, the guards and Quiggly followed the boy through a door, down a long hallway, and into a large room filled with barrels. The room was so large that Quiggly didn’t know what to make of it. He had never been to this place before. He knew that he had been here before, and that he was definitely in a dream. The boy pulled Quiggly to the front of the room and stood him next to the barrels. He put his knife in Quiggly’s hand and took him by the arm, pointing towards the back of the room, saying, “The girl is back there.” “I don’t believe you,” Quiggly said. “Look for yourself,” the boy said, pointing to a row of barrels. “That’s the girl in there, but I’m sure you know what’s going to happen to you if you go near her. I’m going to get her, and then I’m going to get you, and I’m going to kill you.” He was serious, Quiggly thought. This boy really meant it. Quiggly was still trying to believe that this couldn’t be happening. He had to get out of here, and now he had to get to the girl before the boy could do anything. The boy put his hand on Quiggly’s shoulder and pushed him. Quiggly stumbled forward and his back hit a barrel and he thought he was going to fall. It was an amazing thing to think about, that you could fall and be killed in a dream. But then the boy said, “Don’t fall.” Quiggly grabbed the barrel and held on as tightly as he could. He was now in the barrel, and the boy had pushed him down into it. It was a struggle for Quiggly to get out of it, but the boy grabbed the barrel, pulled it over to one of the legs, and then pushed it to the side, and then pushed it forward so that it was underneath the barrel, and then he lifted it with his hands. Quiggly heard a click, and then the boy put his hands on the lid and raised it. He looked inside and said, “You’re going to die here.” He put the lid back in place and locked it, and then pulled Quiggly out of the barrel. “That’s enough of that,” Quiggly said. “Let me go.” “Why are you helping me?” the boy said. “What are you trying to do?” “I don’t know,” Quiggly said. “I’m trying to get out of here. That’s all.” “Why are you helping me?” the boy said. “I don’t know,” Quiggly said. “I’m just trying to leave. I’m not trying to do anything.” “I thought you were a tough guy,” the boy said. “A real man.” “I’m not tough,” Quiggly said. “I thought you were a tough guy,” the boy said. “Like your father.” “Look,” Quiggly said. “I just want to leave. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just going to leave. You’re going to let me go. That’s it.” “I thought you were a tough guy,” the boy said. “A real man.” Quiggly said, “I’m not a man.” The boy said, “Then what are you?” “I’m just a girl,” Quiggly said. “I thought you were a tough guy,” the boy said. “Like your father.” “Look,” Quiggly said. “I just want to leave.” “Why are you helping me?” the boy asked. “What are you trying to do?” “I don’t know,” Quiggly said. “I’m trying to get out of here. That’s all.” The boy put his hands on Quiggly’s shoulders and turned him towards the door, saying, “That’s what you wanted to do, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” Quiggly said. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted to do.” Quiggly pulled back, but the boy held him fast, keeping him close. He said, “I can’t leave you, Quiggly. I’m afraid I would get lost. You have to let me go.” Quiggly saw a girl running down the hallway. She was about the age of the boy, and she looked as afraid as the boy. She was carrying a rifle in one hand. “I think she’s trying to get away,” Quiggly said. “You’re helping her, aren’t you?” the boy said. “You’re helping her get away.” Quiggly said, “No, I’m not. I’m not helping anyone. I’m just trying to get away.” The boy said, “You’re going to kill me.” “No, I’m not,” Quiggly said. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The boy pulled Quiggly close and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace. Quiggly felt the boy’s tears on his shoulder, and he looked over at the girl, and then he looked back at the boy.