You better back your shit up, chapter 8
Mike had walked around a few blocks; his head was aching the pain he was feeling was indescribable. He slowly made his way back to Tre's house guilt rising in his throat he realised he needed to apologise to Tre. How stupid is it to think his best friend had killed his girlfriend? Tre was always a messy eater why did he even contemplate the thought? Mike mentally kicked himself, he'd seen too many Quentin Tarantino films, he wasn't thinking normally, but then again Brittany's death wasn't normal it was horrific...
"Mike! Mike!"
Mike snapped out of his own thoughts and turned to see Tre jogging down the road behind him,
"Mike... are you okay?" Tre asked between gasps
"Yeah... Damn Tre you best get fitter for the tour... "
"You still want to tour Mike? I mean, you know after... "
"Yeah it won't be easy but we can't let the fans down."
Tre sighed, "I'm sorry Mike, I've been so stupid... "
"Its okay Tre we all have moments where we act like a tit"
"No Mike you don't understand... I've been so stupid... I... "
Suddenly Tre's phone rang in the breast pocket of his jacket, he looked at the vibrating material then looked back up at Mike's concerned face,
"You gonna answer that Tre?" he asked warmly as they arrived outside Tre's front gate.
Tre reached down and took the phone from his pocket and flipped it open to answer,
"Hello... yes... yes... no... okay... no it's... yes... yes. Bye."
He sighed heavily and popped it back into his pocket,
"Who was that Tre? Are you okay?" Mike asked
Tre didn't say a word, he pulled out a handgun from his trouser pocket and whacked Mike over the head sharply and dragged him into his house.
Mike awoke to the taste of blood on his lips he found his arms tied around his back and his feet tied together. Suddenly Tre's face appeared directly in front of his, "I'm sorry Mike" he whispered, Mike was about to blurt out words of confusion and frustration.
When a dirty cloth was forced into his mouth as a gag he wretched at the taste before feeling himself being pulled by the feet across the landing of the house. His heart froze when he heard shrill and disturbing screams from within the nearest room...
The door was flung open and Mike was thrown face first into the room, he groaned at the thud of his body against the wooden floor. Turning over and struggling to get up his eyes widened at the figure that held a gun to his temple,
"Hello Mike, long times no see."
Mike gasped through the gag,
"Don't move and I won't fore this shot through your brains." Mike nodded slowly, terrified at the cold metal against his head,
"Now, back up against the wall, I'll deal with you later... "
Mike did as he was told, his eyes, for the first time, moved across the room when he heard a small whimper coming form the bed.
"Billie and I were having some fun, but I guess the party has got started now you are here." Mike forced himself to look at his best friend who was tied up on the bed and lying on blood stained sheets, his blood that was staining the sheets. Mike became furious, where the fuck was Tre? What was going on?
The gun holder walked back across the room to the bed,
"Now Mike is here I suppose I could offer you an explanation... "
"Mmmmike?" Billie whimpered, "Mike? Oh God. Please leave him alone! He's got nothing to... ARGH!"
Billie's scream tore Mike's heart, he needed to help his friend,
"Now, now Billie, I'm going to hurt Mike... anytime soon... he's just staying for the fun... TRE! TRE!"
"WHAT?" The drummers voice echoed form outside,
"Come in here and wash these pliers I can't use them when they are slippy."
Soon Tre sauntered into the room and collected the pliers, he glanced at Billie's foot as he left the room and shivered, deliberately ignoring the two men's gaze.
Ike caught on... this sick freak had done something to Billie's feet... but... oh shit... was that a toe on the floor under the bed? Mike's stomach swirled, he felt like he would throw up any minute, closing his eyes he prayed that this was all a dream, a sick dream that he had to wake up form. What the hell was going on and how could these two people that he knew and trusted do such vile and evil things?
"Mike! Mike!"
Mike snapped out of his own thoughts and turned to see Tre jogging down the road behind him,
"Mike... are you okay?" Tre asked between gasps
"Yeah... Damn Tre you best get fitter for the tour... "
"You still want to tour Mike? I mean, you know after... "
"Yeah it won't be easy but we can't let the fans down."
Tre sighed, "I'm sorry Mike, I've been so stupid... "
"Its okay Tre we all have moments where we act like a tit"
"No Mike you don't understand... I've been so stupid... I... "
Suddenly Tre's phone rang in the breast pocket of his jacket, he looked at the vibrating material then looked back up at Mike's concerned face,
"You gonna answer that Tre?" he asked warmly as they arrived outside Tre's front gate.
Tre reached down and took the phone from his pocket and flipped it open to answer,
"Hello... yes... yes... no... okay... no it's... yes... yes. Bye."
He sighed heavily and popped it back into his pocket,
"Who was that Tre? Are you okay?" Mike asked
Tre didn't say a word, he pulled out a handgun from his trouser pocket and whacked Mike over the head sharply and dragged him into his house.
Mike awoke to the taste of blood on his lips he found his arms tied around his back and his feet tied together. Suddenly Tre's face appeared directly in front of his, "I'm sorry Mike" he whispered, Mike was about to blurt out words of confusion and frustration.
When a dirty cloth was forced into his mouth as a gag he wretched at the taste before feeling himself being pulled by the feet across the landing of the house. His heart froze when he heard shrill and disturbing screams from within the nearest room...
The door was flung open and Mike was thrown face first into the room, he groaned at the thud of his body against the wooden floor. Turning over and struggling to get up his eyes widened at the figure that held a gun to his temple,
"Hello Mike, long times no see."
Mike gasped through the gag,
"Don't move and I won't fore this shot through your brains." Mike nodded slowly, terrified at the cold metal against his head,
"Now, back up against the wall, I'll deal with you later... "
Mike did as he was told, his eyes, for the first time, moved across the room when he heard a small whimper coming form the bed.
"Billie and I were having some fun, but I guess the party has got started now you are here." Mike forced himself to look at his best friend who was tied up on the bed and lying on blood stained sheets, his blood that was staining the sheets. Mike became furious, where the fuck was Tre? What was going on?
The gun holder walked back across the room to the bed,
"Now Mike is here I suppose I could offer you an explanation... "
"Mmmmike?" Billie whimpered, "Mike? Oh God. Please leave him alone! He's got nothing to... ARGH!"
Billie's scream tore Mike's heart, he needed to help his friend,
"Now, now Billie, I'm going to hurt Mike... anytime soon... he's just staying for the fun... TRE! TRE!"
"WHAT?" The drummers voice echoed form outside,
"Come in here and wash these pliers I can't use them when they are slippy."
Soon Tre sauntered into the room and collected the pliers, he glanced at Billie's foot as he left the room and shivered, deliberately ignoring the two men's gaze.
Ike caught on... this sick freak had done something to Billie's feet... but... oh shit... was that a toe on the floor under the bed? Mike's stomach swirled, he felt like he would throw up any minute, closing his eyes he prayed that this was all a dream, a sick dream that he had to wake up form. What the hell was going on and how could these two people that he knew and trusted do such vile and evil things?
