Chapter 2Mature


Darkness enthralled Richard, as the man hole cover stole away the blinking like from the florescent light above it. He landed hard on Brandon's back, pushing the vile teen further in the slurry of human waste beneath him. Richard's sketchy landing forced his breath out, causing him to quickly suck in another. The stench slapped Richard in the face, gripping his gag reflex tightly. Instantly his eyes watered and partially retching he stomped on Brandon's head in fury, causing the wound on Brandon's head to ooze thick blood. Spitting out the stench as if it would help, Richard grabbed Brandon's jacket and began trudging through the hellish waste pipe.

Richard ignored time. So trying to calculate how long he had been in this shit hole was impossible, but after some time the pitiful light on his phone gave the faintest hit to a cut out on the left hand side of the sewer. What Richard didn't see was the two steps hidden beneath the slurry. As he struggled through the bubbling waste to he cut out, all the while dragging Brandon behind him; he hit the steps. The trip sent him staggering toward the centre of the pipe, and who knew how deep it could be out there. It was two feet deep at the outer edges. Grim realization flashed over his face. He threw himself backwards trying to compensate for the heavy sludge around his legs. But rather then stop and stand upright, his weight pulled him over backwards.

Richard came out of the Slime cursing, spitting and slapping uselessly at his face, trying to get what felt like hard and soft bits of faecal matter off. He got to his feet swiftly after clearing his eyes. I can do this for Rosalie. No one  hurts my baby and gets away with it. NO ONE! Thinking of Rosalie brought his attention back the the unconscious form of Brandon. Richard grabbed him again and, carefully, stepped up the hidden steps.he dropped Brandon on the third step and looked down the pitch black passage the steps led to. He looked for his phone. Shit! Richard turned around looked hopelessly at the slowly bubbling ooze that his phone was now entombed in. 

He looked back at the passage and gripped his sap, at least he had put that in his zip pocket. He entered cautiously, treading quietly. It was all for nothing. at the end of the passage way was a door. Richard tried the handle. The door moved away from him but stuck two inches in. He took a step back, and kicked the door as hard as he could. The door didn't move. If at first you don't succeed, try and fucking try again. It took Richard three loud thuds on the steel fronted door before it would budge. Panting he looked inside and measured the room, about fifteen feet by twenty. A crude table sat inside and some nasty looking rags lay scattered around the floor. Debris had been pushed in to one corner, but that must have been years ago, for the floor was littered with it now. Perfect. 

Richard dragged Brandon's body in to the room and shut the door. Dragging him to the table, he slung him on top. It was a considerable effort after dragging him how ever many miles through the sewer system. Richard removed Brandon's Nike leather jacket, then collected all the rags from around the room. Only three were worthy to be used as restraints,  he tossed the others aside; then strapped both of Brandon's arms and his left leg to the table. Confidant they were strong, he took Brandon's jacket and tied the arms together in a gag around his mouth. Richard took a minute to think of all this young man had done to his virgin daughter. using the anger to fuel him, and at every knew though he could feel his determination replete. Standing he calmly walked over to Brandon and held his nose shut and placed a hand over his mouth. shutting his airwaves.

Shock rippled through Brandon, and he eyes pinged open. Comprehension came in slow motion. His blurry vision slowly cleared. A man, chiselled face, dark hair. Blue eyes, dark blue eyes, and he knew those eyes. Blue eyes stood over Brandon, with his hands on his face, why was he doing that? Brandon tried to breathe. Nothing. Panic set in and he started struggling. Why could he only move one leg? Blue eyes let go of his face, and sweet air flowed in to Brandon's empty lungs. "What..." Heavy breath. "The..." Another. "Fuck... where... the..." Brandon's muffled complaints were cut short by an excruciating blow to the face.

Richard looked down on the writhing Boy. In disgust he gripped his sap and slammed it in to Brandon's stomach. the muffled scream, music to Richards ears. oh how Rosalie must have screamed. how she must have pleaded and begged Brandon to stop. he gripped the Boy's right leg , waiting for Brandon to look at what pain was coming next. Brandon eventually did, a look of pure terror upon his face. Through the gag pleads to stop and questions of why came in a dejected torrent. Richard calmly asked. "Why should I stop? Hmmm?! Why would I stop?" He was silent for a moment as if contemplating his next words. when Brandon's grovelling started again Richard interrupted with "Why are you pleading with me, You know I won't listen to you! Just like you didn't listen to Rosalie's cries. JUST LIKE YOU DIDN'T STOP! WHEN SHE SCREAMED NO!" As the monumental discovery that Blue eyes knew his crime, dawned on him, his right knee was obliterated before his eyes. He watched, felt and heard as he knee cap exploded. The sap visibly bending his leg to hyper-extension. 

Brandon screamed, Brandon vomited and Brandon passed out, within the space of twenty seconds. Richard sat back and lit up a Richmond Superking. Brandon had until the end of his Cigarette, before round two started. Richard was half way down when Something changed and someone he hadn't Heard for a long time showed up.                            - Long time no speak, buddy!

Richard stayed silent hopping Froggs would Recede. He didn't.                                                     - Come on, Bud. Don't be like that! I'm only here cause you need me pal. 

Froggs had developed when he was a child, Richard had been bullied when he was thirteen, badly. An older boy called James Martin had been the ring leader but five of them had been there on Froggs' fateful birthday.  Richard had been collecting frog spawn in a bucket to take home as an experiment, the pond had been along some disused train lines. Half an hour from his childhood home. On this particular day, Jackass James. had spotted Richard by the pond. Whilst Richard had been examining his latest catch. Marvelling at how fast the little tadpoles had developed, James had rushed up behind the unsuspecting Richard and launched him in to the pond. Emerging from the water with a cry of emotional distress and anger. He saw Jackass James telling the others to get stones. Richard had lost his footing and briefly sank below to scum filled pond water.  When he rose this time, gasping for air. He saw James jumping on his bucket of tadpoles,  laughing, exclaiming he could feel them squishing under his feet. Then Philip Black, Jackass James's right hand man, spotted Richard. Then the missiles started flying, stones large and small flew at him. Pain erupted in so many places on his face, it became impossible to identify where it hurt. 

Struggling to keep his head above the water and dodge the malevolent missiles. He didn't see James pick up a rock the size of the tall fifteen year old's fist. James must have known it was a good throw, because as soon as it left his had they all scattered. The rock arced through the air and collided with Richard's unsuspecting face. Richard couldn't remember the pain, only the broken bits of teeth and blood ribbons in the water as they  followed him in to the depths of Tadpole Pond. Froggs had saved Richard, or at least has claimed to ever since that day. Richard doesn't actually know. He remembers waking up in his bedroom two weeks later. A voice in his head, Telling him Wakie, wakie. Rise and shine. Thirty-two Stitches in his face, and according to his mother an appointment with the dentist 2 weeks hence. 

- Welcome back to the world of the fore-conscious, enjoy your sleep?                                         Richard - What the hell?! what is happening to me? who are you?                                               - Your not in hell yet Ricky! and nothing is happening to you, I already happened.               Richard - What do you men you already happened? who are you?                                                 - You needed my help, so I helped. I just can't leave now. As for who I am, that's a long very complex tale. Another time maybe. You can call me Froggs. It's a good a name as any I suppose, and it has a sort of poetic charm to it. (can a voice wink)






The End

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