It was hot, damn hot. I was sweating in my netted sleeveless mesh top with long black jeans (you know, the kinds with the zippers on em) and heavy black boots adorned with spikes. I could feel the beads of perspiration slide down my forehead and my nose, but I didn't care. This was who I was: a goth and proud of it. I mean, can you imagine what someone of my stature would look like in shorts? I know, it disturbs me too.
Anyway, I was standing in a long line at the 24/7 check out to pay for my bottle of apple juice when this slender fella with matted black hair strolled in: he was very slender in his t-shirt that read "Don't touch my groin" which I couldn't help but smirk at. He also had pants that were similar to mine, but were obviously much smaller to fit his size, the same went for his boots. He then rolled his eyes at the large crowd and headed over to that Brainfreezy machine (never liked those things myself). His bony finger slightly trembled as he pressed the button for the flavor of his choice, but the machine malfunctioned and the red crap sprayed all over his shirt. I could hear him spew a string of colorful obscenities under his breath as he stamped his feet in anger.
Wanting to help this fellow, I went to the bathroom and got some paper towels. I then walked over to the machine, grabbed a cup, and filled it with success. I then held them out to him.
"What's that, then?" he asked quietly with skepticism as he took the paper towels.
"For you, you wanted one right?" I asked casually trying not to sound nervous.
"Yes, I did. Why did you do that?" he asked as he tried to soaked up the Brainfreezy stain.
"Because you looked pretty pissed off that that Brainfreezy stuff sprayed all over you, so I decided to help ya." I replied growing a little tired of holding the cup.
He paused at this as if this was the first time someone had performed a random act of kindness for him. His eyes then narrowed.
"I saw you smirking at me earlier. What did you find so funny?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You mean the way I dress?"
"No," I muttered, "I just thought the saying on your shirt was funny.
Don't touch my groin."
"Liar," he suddenly growled, "you laughed because of the way I dress! Admit it."
I began shaking my head rapidly. "No, I swear to god, I thought the saying was funny. I- gah!" he had gripped my shoulder suddenly as his brown eyes became flaring with paranoia and rage.
"Tell me the truth and I'll let you go." He hissed as his fingernails dug into my back. I then began to feel faint and now that I look back on it, I think he had somehow gassed me or something. The next thing I knew, I was in a ratty, dark car tied down to the back seat with thick hemp rope. As the hardened fibers rubbed against my sensitive wrists, I heard a familiar voice say: "since you won't talk, I guess I'll have to force it out of you."
Strangely, I forced out a hoarse question, "W-Who are you?"
"You can call me Nny." He replied sternly.
I awoke to find my arms and legs tied to a huge board. I lifted my head slightly to see Nny in the corner staring at me with a mocking sympathetic look.
"Whatever it was I did," I found myself muttering, "I'm sorry."
I could hear his giant boots clanking towards me. "Oh no, an apology simply won't do." he whispered which I'm sure was accompanied with a sadistic grin. Before I knew it, he was suddenly standing over me with a knife hovering above the area where the chest and neck met.
"You must fully understand the pain your insult has caused." he muttered as his tiny, beady pupils stared down at my shivering body.
"Look Nny, this is a big misunderstanding! I" he clamped his skinny hand over my mouth before I could finish.
"Shut up! Your life isn't worth a damn to me!" he screamed and then reached up to the wall on his right and yanked a lever down.
A whirring sound suddenly came from above; it was a huge buzz-saw that was heading for my mid section. I made a few last attempts to squirm free, but knew that it was no use. I clenched my eyes shut as the spikes touched down on my damp, netted mesh shirt.