Tyler's cry of pain was muffled by the gag in his mouth as he jolted to the side and slammed against the floor.

The beam from Kobra Kid's gun pierced his calf, sending blood splattering across the stage. A pool of the dark blood soon formed underneath his body, and some of it ran down the side of the stage and onto the floor of the pit.

"See?! This is what happens when you fuckers step out of line!" Kobra Kid shouted, gesturing at Tyler with his gun. "Don't fucking start with me or the shot goes in his skull instead of his leg!"

Kobra Kid kneeled down next to Tyler's curled up, quivering body.

"Each time one of you act up, the shot goes higher-"

Kobra Kid shoved his gun in the bloody bullet hole in Tyler's calf and twisted. Tyler squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered as the barrel of Kobra Kid's gun dug out bits of skin and bone.

"-and higher-"

Kobra Kid took his gun away from Tyler's leg and drove it into his chest, the muzzle prodding hard into his sternum.

"-and higher."

Lastly, Kobra Kid pressed his gun against Tyler's temple. His trigger finger twitched as if he was just dying to pull the trigger.

Josh snapped.

He rushed forward, screaming Tyler's name and reaching for his gun underneath his shirt. Mr. Benzedrine and Youngblood reached out for him, but he shoved them off.

"Get the fuck away from him!" Josh screamed like a madman as he fought off all the Clique members trying to hold him back. "Don't you dare touch him!"

His shouts echoed in the hushed arena. Kobra Kid, Jet Star, and Fun Ghoul all immediately turned to look down at the front of the pit where Josh was causing the scene.

Josh had his gun in his hand now. He violently shoved off any Clique member that was attempting to stop him.

Mr. Benzedrine and Youngblood were trying to grab his gun and cover his mouth, while other members around him clutched his shirt and his arms in a vain attempt to pull him back into the crowd.

"Stop it!" Josh screamed at the top of his lungs. His gun was cocked and loaded, and he was waving it wildly in the direction of the Killjoys on stage. "Stop it! Don't fucking touch him! Fuck-!"

Another shot rang out in the auditorium.

The shot had went higher. Tyler was now bleeding out of both his calf, and his thigh.

He was crying, but he tilted his head down so no one could tell. His body was curled up in the fetal position, quivering and shuddering and twitching in pain.

Josh froze in his place, staring up at the stage with tears in his wide, sad eyes. He felt his body become limp, and he stumbled back, right into the arms of Youngblood and Mr. Benzedrine.

"You're going to get Mad Gear killed, you fucking idiot," Mr. Benzedrine hissed.

He and Youngblood held Josh back by his arms, with other Clique members near to back them up. Mr. Benzedrine managed to grab his gun and shove it in his own belt.

"You thought I was bluffing?!" Kobra Kid threw his head back and manically laughed. "You little fucks need to listen to your new leader!"

Kobra Kid then kneeled down and yanked Tyler over to him by his hair. His pathetic cries and whimpers were so quiet, Josh could barely hear them.

Kobra Kid roughly pulled Tyler up on his knees, so that he was again kneeling like he was before.

But he didn't stay kneeling for long. The blood running from his two wounds and the drugs in his system made him just fall right over again.

Kobra Kid growled in annoyance and yanked Tyler up again, this time holding him upright by his hair.

"This man-" Kobra Kid announced, holding Tyler up like a prize. "-killed my brother!"

The Clique broke out into a sea of murmurs and whispers.

"You remember that?" asked Kobra Kid with a wicked smile. "Huh? My brother Gerard ran this little shithole as his side hustle, remember? Of course, he had us Killjoys, but you didn't know that..."

With his free hand, he undid the gag in Tyler's mouth and threw it across the stage.

As soon as the gag was out of his mouth, Tyler took a desperate gasp for air. But his breaths soon turned into sobs, and those sobs turned chokes and coughs.

Kobra Kid scowled and kicked Tyler in his back, the tip of his boot hitting right on his spine.

Tyler groaned as he hit the floor yet again. But this time, he fell in the pool of his own blood. The dark red liquid drenched the entire right half of his face, and splattered all the way over to his left ear.

"No! Stop it! Stop, please!" Josh screamed. He was hysterical at this point, thrashing and kicking the Clique members that were holding him back.

Youngblood managed to reach up and cover Josh's mouth with his hand to muffle his screams and save Tyler from anymore shots.

"Alright, that's it," Kobra Kid groaned in annoyance and addressed his Killjoys behind him. "Fun Ghoul, Jet Star, get that one and bring him up on stage. The one with the green hair. I've had enough of him."

Before he knew it, Josh was being seized by the two Killjoys, each grabbing hold of one of his arms. His gun had long been confiscated.

Jet Star and Fun Ghoul dragged Josh on stage, with him kicking and screaming all the way. They threw him on the floor, right at the feet of Kobra Kid.

As soon as Josh hit the floor, he scrambled over to Tyler kneeling in the center of the stage. Kobra Kid, however, grabbed the back of Josh's shirt collar and yanked him backwards.

"Touch him," Kobra Kid began, shoving Josh back on the ground, "and he dies."

Josh gulped back his fear and looked back at Tyler sad, apologetic eyes.

"You seem to really like this psychopath over here," Kobra Kid snarled. "I don't know why. He's just about the most fucked up guy I've ever met."

"All the best people are crazy, Kobra Kid," the girl with the pink and black curls chimed in.

Josh said nothing. He focused on Tyler. Only Tyler.

"Crazy or not, since you're so in love with him," Kobra Kid continued, "I guess you'll want to join him in the little game we have planned. Melanie?"

The girl with the two toned hair and blood-stained pastel pink dress smiled mischievously and skipped right over to Kobra Kid's side.

"Mel, you can play now," said Kobra Kid simply.

Melanie's smile grew as she looked back and forth between Josh and Tyler.

"Oh, the game is so much more fun with two players!" She cheered, clapping her hands together.

"Finally we're getting somewhere!" Halsey exclaimed. She flipped back her bright blue hair and rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

"Hey Katie?" Melanie mused in a sing-song voice. "Could you get me my revolver? Pretty please?"

"I told you guys not to call me that!" Killer Kat rolled her eyes and groaned, but she pulled a small, six-chambered pistol out of her belt. "Why does nobody fucking listen to me? You better give me some extra turns."

"Oh, don't worry..." Melanie's insane smile grew as she took the gun from Killer Kat. She walked over to Tyler and kneeled down next to him. Gently placing her finger underneath Tyler's chin, she raised his head so he looked at her.

Josh drew in a sharp breath and tried going over to his Tyler, but Kobra Kid just stepped in between them.

"Everyone's going to get a turn!" Melanie laughed in Tyler's face, putting her hand on his chest and giving him a light push back. "Kat, Hal, can you explain the rules for me please?"

"Our pleasure," Halsey smirked. She took the gun from Melanie's hand and lazily draped her arm over Killer Kat's shoulder. The two walked in front of Melanie and Tyler and faced the pit of Clique members.

"I'm sure you've all heard of Russian roulette, right?" asked Halsey sarcastically.

"If not, then you're fucking stupid," Kat scoffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

Halsey took her arm off Kat's shoulder and nudged her in the ribs with her elbow.

"It's simple, really," she continued with a devilish grin. She showed Melanie's gun to the crowd. "Six chambers in the cylinder..." she opened the cylinder of the revolver and took out all but one of the six bullets. "...One bullet."

"Close the cylinder back up and give it a spin," Kat chimed in, taking the gun from Melanie's hand. She did exactly what she said, closing the cylinder and flicking her hand across it, causing it to spin wildly.

"Take turns pulling until someone-" Halsey closed one eye, made a finger gun, and clicked her tongue. "-gets the bullet."

"Alright, alright, they get it," Fun Ghoul groaned behind Kobra Kid. "Get to it already!"

"Don't have to tell me twice," Kat smirked, cocking the gun and aiming it directly at Tyler's forehead.

"Hey! That's not fair," Melanie pouted, snatching the gun out of Killer Kat's hands. "I think our guests should have the first turn."

She delicately kneeled down again, as careful as a child. Her bouncy black and pink curls matched her somehow bloody pink dress and childish stockings.

"Here you go, lover boy," she said, smiling sweetly at Josh. Her smile was wide and her teeth were sparkling, but her eyes were...well, completely mad.

She dropped the pistol in Josh's hands, and he stared at it in confusion for a moment before looking back at Melanie.

"Do you not know how to play this game?" Melanie cocked her head to side and pouted at Josh. "Here, I'll show you."

She pressed the gun in Josh's right hand, then wrapped his left around the handle. She forced him to lift his arm up so the gun was pointed directly in front of him.

"Shoot him," Melanie said, her sweet, innocent voice suddenly becoming raspy and almost demonic.

Josh's eyes widened in horror. The gun he was holding in his hand was aimed at Tyler's chest. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words could seem to come out. He shook his head rapidly back and forth.

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut for a split second before opening them and looking right at Josh.

"Do it, Josh," he managed to choke out. His voice sounded so hoarse, so deep and scratchy and raw, it was almost painful to listen to.

Josh still said nothing, only stared at Tyler with jaw dropped and gun in hand.

"Listen to him and just fucking do it!" Halsey shouted, and the rest of the Killjoys joined in.

The Clique, however, was too in shock to do or say anything. They simply watched their two leaders, kneeling on the stage, preparing to die.

Josh had no choice. There were hundreds of Killjoys around, watching him, guns at the ready.

If he tried anything, he would be shot. Tyler would be shot. His Clique would be shot.

He had no choice.

Josh looked at Tyler-his Tyler. He looked at his ripped and dirty clothes, the bruises and scratches covering almost every bit of exposed skin, his bloodshot, drugged eyes.

And the blood. God, the blood. Gallons of the stuff.

The thick red liquid completely drenched his clothing, as if he had just gone swimming in a pool of the stuff.

Nearly half of his tan face was covered by his own blood. It doused his hair, making a few pieces stick to his forehead, which was also red with blood.

It ran into his mouth.

It stained his teeth.

It dripped off of his eyelashes.

It pooled in the crevices of his ear.

It mixed with his tears as they ran down his cheeks.

It splattered over his cheeks, his lips.

It ran down his chin.

Josh bit his bottom lip as his thumb loaded the gun. He heard a click, but he prayed it was an empty slot, not the bullet.

"I..." Josh began, but his voice cracked and broke. Any words he tried to say turned into a sob as soon as they reached his lips. "I...I'm sorry."

Tyler closed his eyes.

The entire room held their breath as they watched Josh. The suspense hung over the room like a ominous cloud. If the cylinder happened to land on the slot with the bullet, it would all be over.

But what were the odds? There were six chambers, but only one bullet. Five were empty.

There was a one in six chance that Tyler was going to die. And at Josh's own hand, nonetheless.

Josh pulled the trigger.

✗✗✗✗✗

"You do realize that we're probably going to die, right?"

"That's a chance I'm more than willing to take."

Horseshoe Crab frowned.

Donnie the Catcher loaded his gun.

"Andy, listen-" Horseshoe began, taking a step towards his best friend and fellow Clique member.

"No, you listen Joe," Donnie interrupted him. He finished loading his rifle and slung it over his shoulder. "If you're not willing to die for your Clique, is it really yours?"

"It-It's not mine," Horseshoe stuttered, grabbing his own gun. "It's Mad Gear's."

"God, don't you ever listen to that guy?" Donnie scoffed and shook his head. "He always says that, he always says it's not just his. It's ours too, Horseshoe."

The corner of Horseshoe's lips tugged up into a small smirk.

"Yeah," he said with a curt nod. "Yeah, you're right."

"Plus..." Donnie started, drawing out the word. He took a breath and peeked around the corner.

The two were currently on the second floor, right next to the banister that overlooked the pit. They were on the side opposite of Missile Kid's and Mad Gear's room, so they had a completely different view than usual.

"...When you're the only two Clique members not held captive, we kinda have do this," Donnie half-laughed.

"Mad Gear better promote us for this," Horseshoe complained. He shouldered his gun and pulled his curly brown hair up into a small bun. "Big time."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Donnie shrugged as he raised his weapon.

He dared to take another minuscule step away from the wall. He was now able to see over the barrier and down into the pit below, where the Clique and Killjoys were gathered.

He took a quick breath and slowly raised his rifle up. Closing one eye, he looked through the scope and aimed directly at the bright red jacket on stage.

"Considering we're about to save his fucking life."

✗✗✗✗✗
✗✗✗✗✗

Honestly by now, I wouldn't be surprised if the FBI was monitoring my internet search history.

OK Google, how thick is blood?

Hey Siri, how close does a gun have to be to pierce bone?

Alexa, how long does it take someone to die from blood loss?

I'm not a serial killer, I swear. Just a writer. Please don't arrest me.

Also, Joe Trohman with a bun: a concept.

Also also, can we take a moment to appreciate the picture because dAMN Tyler is hot he needs to wear jean jackets more often.

Also also also, speaking of Tyler,

I'm sorry.

-Liz.