Nick groaned on the floor as his world spun. His ankles, bound by chains, shot pain signals to his brain as he felt the skin tearing and blood pouring out as the two biker men dragged him out of the office. Loud taunts and the occasional kick to his body refreshed his painful feelings and kept him from resisting effectively. His two arms had been stomped on by the one called Brent and he felt as if the bones were broken. The incredible pain all over his body made him want to scream, but his throat was too dry from screaming his lungs out earlier.
It had already been nearly fifteen minutes since he was caught and the two men had brought him downstairs to the ground floor lobby. Other bikers were surrounding him and taking bets about how long he would last behind the cycles. Some felt the desire to take him into a private office for some fun, but none dared to move him without their boss’s orders. Tattoos carved with prison ink covered their exposed skin, worn as though it were a trophy of their past hardships and justification for their cruel fantasies.
Nick felt the chains on his ankles loosen as hands held him down and explored his youthful body. His compact muscles from tennis and upper-class sports betrayed him as it made his soft muscles even more attractive to the men around him. He closed his eyes and resigned himself to his dark fate as the pain in his shoulders and ankles slowly receded. His fatalistic thoughts only interrupted by the sudden fleshy splattering coming from the open stairwell door. A leather covered body smashed into pulp from gravity laid on the floor following the loud sound. The group surrounding him halted and all turned their heads stiffly in the same direction.
Echoing curses and painful screams carried down the stairwell and into the ears of the dozen members on the ground floor. A man standing closer to the door and waiting for the boss’s orders had blood splashed across his face from the long open wound on the corpse; the chest had been slashed open to the bone by something sharp before the fall. His face turned ugly at the sight and his voice rang out orders, waking up the dozen men surrounding Nick. Ten of them rushed to the stairwell, including Brent and his companion, as they moved to reinforce the boss on the upper floors. The sound of clashing metal rang out even louder as the men crossed the doorway. Somewhere on an upper floor, trouble had found the gang’s members.
Nick opened his eyes slowly while listening to the rough boots pound the tile floor, slowly moving farther away from him. Two pairs of hands dragged him towards another side of the floor and into a padded chair with armrests where he was quickly tied down using the same chains that bound his ankles previously. Then the men guarding him walked to the entrance and began patrolling the area. The unexpected attack from above had made them nervous about similar ambushes from other buildings. The smell of his own blood filled his nose as he groggily looked around him and listened to the worried whispers of the bikers. He nearly laughed at the behavior of these strong men, who showed no hesitation in beating him, becoming restless after one of their fellows was killed so easily.
Screams and the sound of fighting upstairs continued for a few minutes more before slowly quieting down. Then there was only the pounding of heavy footsteps and clanking of feet being dragged down a set of stairs. Nick and the other men turned their heads to the stairwell and elevators in anticipation. They didn’t have to wait long before a few corpses were thrown down from the stairwell and the elevator doors opened at the same time. A man whose arms were chained to the elevator rails sat on the floor with long cuts across his chest and a healed scar on his face. One of the men exclaimed in fear after recognizing their boss.
Distracted by the elevator corpse, the duo on the ground floor missed the two corpses that rose from the group in the stairwell. Paper cutter arm blades in hand, the duo rushed over and cut down the two men before they could put up a proper defense. Then the footsteps from earlier were heard again as a mixed group of six men and women with mild injuries came into Nick’s view. The group held an assortment of weapons from a fire axe to paper cutter blades to golf clubs. Their faces held traces of sorrow, determination and relief. The combat drained their stamina, physically and mentally, but there was the glow of victory over death around them. Nick was positive that it was there as he stared at the group of eight while they checked the bodies.
His heart skipped a beat when one of the women noticed him tied to the chair and motioned towards him while saying something that he couldn’t understand. The group soon wandered over to him and the lead man questioned him in a language he didn’t understand. It wasn’t English, French or Spanish and he could only stare dumbly at the man. His lips parted to say something, then closed as he didn’t know what to say or how to express himself. The leading man frowned at his lack of response and the other men in the group pointed at Nick and gestured at him with killing intent in his eyes. It was obvious that the other man thought it would be a waste to bring along someone who couldn’t talk or refused to talk to them.
Before the leading man could make a decision, a crunching sound of glass being stepped on drew their attention to the entrance of the office building. A young man covered in blood stood there with fierce eyes and deep hatred on his face, staring at Nick. The others were startled at the new sight and backed off, forming a triangle between the newcomer, Nick and the man. However, the young man acted as if he didn’t notice them as he walked towards Nick while grasping a short blade in his left hand. Nick noticed the man as well and blinked in confusion at first, then realization as he looked over; he knew this man.
“Vincent! How come you’re here?”
Nick called out to the young man in surprise and a mixture of wariness and joy. The young man was Vincent, whom he had met in the Morpheus Labs building before this wild experiment started. He knew the other man spoke English at least since they talked before the experiment started. Though it was only small talk, it was enough for him to be happy as the others didn’t speak any language he knew.
“Shut your mouth, you devil! How dare you speak to me after killing my sister!”
Vincent screamed at Nick as he picked up his pace and rushed towards him with the blade pointed forward. His facial expression warped in anger and body posture perfectly playing the role of a truly emotional man on the breaking point. A cunning light flashed in his eyes as he saw the confusion in Nick’s eyes that quickly turned into fear, then anger.
“What are you saying?! I have never met your sister! Have you gone mad? Stop joking around!”
Nick yelled back at Vincent and began to struggle on the chair while the others watched the scene in confusion. It appeared that the two men were mortal enemies and recognized one another, though one acted friendly at first. Was the new guy acting a part to fool them or was the chain bound man trying to lure them over and into a trap? It was obvious now that the bound man could speak and simply chose to act ignorant in front of them, which angered a few in the group.
“Fool! Since you were dumb enough to get caught, then you should sacrifice yourself so I can have more prey to enjoy.”
Vincent sneered as he stopped in front of Nick and slashed out with the short blade in his hand. The sharp metal cut a straight line across and through Nick’s arteries and blood sprayed out, covering Vincent’s chest. With his back to the group, a wide grin formed on his face as he continued to curse Nick in several languages, including the Morpheus language created solely for the artificial humans that he had to memorize before coming in. It was very primitive with only a few words to express simple commands as it was implemented at the last minute.
Nick tried to call for help from the others but nothing came out of his throat except blood. He could feel his life draining away and felt a mixture of indignation, fear and despair. This should only be a virtual reality experience so why did everything feel so real? Why did it feel like if he died here, he would die in reality as well? That couldn’t be right though, that only happened in the Japanese novels and animes, not in real life. Real life virtual reality couldn’t hurt people, could it?
