Trashed and Scattered

After each blow that landed on the faces of the sick men who hurt Melissa, I wasn’t sure if it was their blood from the cuts in their flesh or my own from busted knuckles. Blow after blow, each one becoming harder and faster than the one before, I felt weaker. Yet angrier. More and more motivated to exact my own revenge, and the revenge Brian would have wanted me to lay on them. I didn’t care what would become of me at that point. For all I knew the cops, the fucking SWAT team could bust down Zack’s garage door and chain me up to toss me in with the dogs. No, I didn’t give a god damn anymore. I was just so torn up from the chain of events that hadn’t yet ceased to unfold.
So I carried on. Throwing all my strength into each and every swing of my arm. I fought trying to pick up a piece of pipe, regardless of how smooth it would have become, how easy it would have been to bring them within an inch of their lives…just as they’d done to her. The woman I’d begun to fall for. No, I couldn’t let those feelings sink in. Not now. I couldn’t do that to Brian. For now, I focused on letting all the emotions out, let them drip away in the blood that now covered the concrete floor. Pooling in the centre of the space. Surely my face was covered in splashes of red, blended loosely with sweat and tears. I couldn’t feel the pain in my hands and wrists anymore. It was all a blur of red.
Zack had left to see to his wife and kids. I didn’t blame him; this wasn’t something he ought to have been involved in. This was pure emotion. This was fighting for the memories I shouldn’t have made. And all the sadness that weighed me down from the beginning. Revenge for Bishop, my canine companion, who in the act of heroism, almost gave his life for the same cause. Fuck with my family, you’ve got a special seat in hell.
Before Zack left he helped me chain them up together, bound by their ankles and tethered to the work bench in the far corner. Their mouths were taped shut, hands tightly bound together. I had already taken the courtesy of breaking at least one finger on each hand. Incapacitation might not have been something I found aesthetically pleasing, but it allowed for creativity. Something I was good at. I wanted to fuck these misfits up bad enough that they begged for mercy, begged to die. If they were to die, they’d die slowly, painfully. In every way they’d have killed Melissa. Zack insisted on staying to share the fun, but Jamie needed him.
I propped down on one knee, so as to become eye level with the punks. They could barely keep their eyes open. So young, so fucked up already. They were whimpering, shaking in their skin. I actually felt embarrassed for them. “I want to know why.” I hissed. They cringed, sinking down to the floor. “Tell me why you did it!”
When they didn’t respond right away, I struck one in the mouth. Probably breaking his jaw. Should have spoken up. “Why did you assault that woman?” I yelled again, my voice hoarse and hitching with emotion. “Fucking tell me!”
“P—please stop!” the other one whimpered. “We didn’t mean for it to go that far!”
I grew angrier, standing up again at my full height, pressing my chest out. Accentuating my size, my power and control. “What reason or right did you have to beat and rape a woman?”
“We didn’t mean to!”
“I’m not asking for your apology! I’m telling you to answer me!” I cracked the talker in the nose. Blood gushed to the floor. He snorted and screamed in anguish. “You messed with the wrong crowd, you fucks. Bet your friends are glad they’re not in your position right now.” Little bastards were squirming along the floor as if they thought that some miracle would allow them to escape.
“Guess all it takes is a bunch of kids to get hopped up on adrenaline, break into someone’s house, and steal their shit. A couple nights later go to another house. Turns out this next house belongs to the guy whose best friend owns the house you broke into the first night. Beat his woman within an inch of her life, rape her, hospitalize her…then gather the balls to try and pull the same shit on our other friend’s place today. Shoddy choices. Really, really shoddy choices. Well now you’re paying for your deeds. Luckily it’s just me here.” I picked up a piece of pipe, weighed it in my hands. Wondering if maybe I ought to have brought it down on them.
The sirens were getting louder. I kept throwing all my weight into the punches. All two-hundred-ten pounds of muscle mass I acquired behind the force of my throw. Landing a clenched fist on the cheekbone of the fucker closest to me. Felt bones shatter, watched his face turn black with bruising. I wasn’t about to stop until they both looked like her, or worse. I was half tempted to shove those fucking pipes up their asses and share with them the same fate they bestowed upon Liss. Blood for blood.
At that moment I realized the cops had pulled up in the drive. In a few moments the garage door would slide up and I’d be facing dozens of armed cops in heavy gear. Something like in the movies, only a lot more fear-inducing. The sheer terror of the possibility that a bullet would be entering your body at any time was enough to stop me.
I completely stopped throwing punches when a cop came over a bullhorn. “This is the police! We have the residence surrounded. If there’s anyone in there, come out with your hands above your head!” my heart skipped several beats as I waited for them to infiltrate. Had I not been covered in blood, I’d have walked out just as they asked. If I’d gone out now, I’d likely be shot dead at the door. Either way, I’d be taken away in chains and shoved in a cell until they knew what to do with me. This had already spiralled way out of control. My fate was no longer in my hands.
My extremities shook as the garage door opened. I could see the shadows of at least ten cops lined up, guns out. Christ, this situation was sticky. All it would take was one neighbour to go off the fucking deep end and call in a possible break and enter. There were kids living here; of course someone would say something. As if the shit hadn’t already hit the fan, it was about to cover the fucking walls. “Hands over your head! On your knees!” the cop in front said. He was about as big as me, maybe a little bigger. Firearm ready to penetrate my skull with one shot. Real sticky, but at that point I didn’t give a fuck. I’d done what I needed to do. “Get on your knees now!” I complied, falling in a heap of adrenaline and rage.
Two cops rushed over to me, snapped my arms behind my back, cuffing me. They pulled me to my feet and dragged me out to an SUV, slamming me into the back seat. I heard another call for an ambulance for the ones who I’d beaten half to death.
None of us were in a good situation right now. Two wrongs didn’t make a right, but it sure felt nice to do what needed to be done. Like centuries ago. Trial by combat. May the bigger man win, and may the other die in silence. I was at peace and would openly accept what would become of me, if things were to turn over for worse than what they were. As I watched behind me, a crowd was starting to amass around the house as the area was taped off. Questions were going to be asked. Why had we been targeted?
When I got to the station Brian was being processed. Jimmy had already gone through. His lanky body barely caught my eye. I was brought to a tiny room where I was photographed for mug shots. Matt Sanders, covered in blood. Made for a beautiful portrait, some insane memorabilia to tell the grandchildren. After the blood had been swabbed, everything documented, and my clothes and accessories put in enclosed bags, I was moved back out to be cleaned off.
For the moment I’d be thrown into a temporary cell while the situation was assessed. The police would still be gathering information with the two punks I had tied up in Zack’s garage. Surely they were being transported to a hospital, if not already admitted. Cops would be waiting for them to come around, ambush them with questions, wait until they became stable enough to be thrown in a cell. Then a while from now I too would be brought to a room for questioning. I assumed Johnny and Zack would be brought in soon, if they hadn’t been already. Even though they didn’t have much to do with it all, as a band we would have been involved in this together somehow. I had to ask myself if Melissa was worth all this. Really, she was.
I passed Brian in the hall as I was being escorted to my cell. Brian and I said nothing to each other. We gave passive nods. I noticed he’d been crying recently. He cringed at the state of my hands, how much blood was still pouring from the splits in my knuckles. He was able to imagine what I’d done, and as much trouble as we were in because of it, surely he didn’t seem to mind. I’d have gone to prison a thousand times for them.
We were put in separate holding cells for the time being. My wounds were patched up by a medic on-site, while two cops supervised. When the medic was done I was left alone, the gate shut. Wondering where my brothers were located. From then on there was silence as I waited for eternity to pass by, as I didn’t have much faith that the ordeal would be dealt with in haste.

Notes

Matt's POV.