TW: Mentions of suicide. Violence. A bit of gore. :,(

-Chapter 4

  Alex woke up to a throbbing in his head. He groaned and tried to reach for his head, but his arms were tied back to a chair. 

 He squinted his eyes to try and see where he was. It was a black room, well except for a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. 

 Alex looked around, trying to soak up his surroundings. He was confused, and didn't really remember what had happened.

 His stomach growled ferociously, earning a wince from its owner.

 "Well, Welll, Weeelllll...." It was a french accent. That's when everything started coming back to Alex. His eyes widened. "W-Where am I!?" He asked.

"Nowhere Important, of course..." His accent seemed to spit at Alex, his heart racing. "Shoot." He mumbled.

"Very well, monsiour."

BANG!

Alex screamed in pain. His right leg had been shot, blood spewing from it (sorry squeamish peeps) "A-Are you serious!?" He struggled to get out. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. But ever since his adrenal fatigue, he had trouble with dealing with stress like this.

"Very, monsiour." He chuckled, evilly. Alex's breathing was uneven, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

"Why..." Alex chocked, not daring to look at his leg. "Because, you.. how you say.. deserved it." The frenchman's eyes seemed to sparkle in a fire inside his mind. "Now, shall we get started?" He asked, cunningly. "With what?!" Alex spat, pain surging through him. "Our.. Intere.. Intére... Interrogation!, yes. Our interrogation." Alex heard him slam in gun against a table.

"Now then." He began, sitting in front of Alex. His face was hidden with a hood, stereotypical. Alex gulped, his pupils tiny slits. "You have befriended John, yes?" He asked. "Y-Yes.." Alex mumbled. "I thought so."

"And you have a crush on him, non?"

"N- I-... No..." he lied. "Oh, really? Because I think YOU VERY WELL DO, MONSIOR!" He yelled, banging his fists on the table. Alex jumped, trying not to show his fear. But it was very clear that was much so afraid of whoever this person was.

"I can tell when a person lies... I can see it in their eyes." He said. "I-I'm not.. lying.." Alex argued. "Sure! Sure, you're not!" He leaned in to sniff Alex forehead. Alex's insides were being tossed out of his body at this point. (Disgusting, I know :P)

"I can tell.." Sniff. "When people lie.. they smell like rotting flesh..." Sniff. Alex felt like throwing up, mentally, and physically. His body shook. His heart beating out of his chest. "So why? Why are you crushing on my John?" He asked. Alex didn't answer, trying to think of a good excuse. He knew he couldn't lie very well, especially with this lunatic sniffing his pits. "WHY ARE YOU CRUSHING ON MY JOHN!?" He screamed in Alex's face.

"I-I'm... I'm sorry... I..." Alex stuttered. He was really at a loss of words now, which could be the death of him.

"You will be sorry. But for now..." he began, sitting back in his chair. He sighed and intertwined his hands on his stomach. "Alexander, if you dare hurt him. It will be the last time you hurt anything. Or see anything." He said coldly. "How.. How do you know my name..?" "Unimportant." He spat. "Bastards like you get around easily." Alex winced at the name Bastard.

Alex was brought out of his thoughts. "Alright. Well, I might let you go tomorrow. Maybe." Alex looked at the man with the hood, confusingly. "And if I do... you WILL promise not to hurt MY John."

"Why would I h-have a reason to hurt him anyways.." Alex mumbled. "and DONT have THAT tone with ME, you BASTARD." He spat, angrily. "Sorry.." Alex muttered.

"You will be, Alexander." He said, and with that he got out of his chair and walked off. "I'm sorry..." he said to himself. Only loud enough for himself to hear. "I promised I would protect him..." he sighed and walked into another room, leaving Alex.

Someone walked up to Alex and started to bandage his leg. Alex's leg was numb, he couldn't feel anything at all, which was better than before. The boy had poofy hair, and brown eyes. "Sorry, that was my brother... He's.. well I can't say.. but he didn't mean to hurt you... if that even makes sense.." he shook his head, pursing his lips. "Whatever.." Alex started. "I'm used to it.." he mumbled to the boy.

"I'm Thomas.. by the way.." he said, finishing up his bandaging. "Alex.." Alex responded. "I- I um.. I'll bring you food later.. or something.." he said, before walking out of the room. And suddenly, it was just Alexander in the room. But he was used to the loneliness. Except for that fact that John gave him company. 'John..' Alex thought. "He's probably worried.. Or maybe he's not.. maybe he doesn't care.." Alex muttered, sighing.

 Alex leaned his head on the back of the chair, closing his dry eyes. He tried really hard not to cry, even though the lump his his throat threatened for tears to spill at any moment. His leg tingled a bit, Alex wincing. "It just had to be my leg..." he mumbled. "Why couldn't he have shot my heart.." he began. "I'd be dead.. I wouldn't have to worry about this shit.. I wouldn't have to live this shitty life.." a single tear rolled down his cheek. "I just can't seem to die.. can I..?" He chocked out. 

 And with that he tried to sleep. But he couldn't. His mind was spinning. 

 "I could.. reach for the.. gun.." he said drowsily. "Maybe if I.." he tried getting out of the ropes, but damn! These french people can tie a fucking rope! Alex groaned silently and lay his head back. "Come on.. sleep.. die or something.. stupid brain.." he muttered. "Sleep... sleep.. sl- eep.." he kept repeating until his eyes became heavy. "Sleep, gosh damnit." 

 He closed his eyes, ready for what would come ahead of him in the morning. It was quiet. 

 Alex never liked the quiet before...