I'm so calm right now, it's odd. I should be panicking, but I suppose I did all the panicking I needed a day ago.
I found Anthony. I found Elijah and, as Tony called him, "Scarface", as well.
After I posted my previous entry Scarface came and picked me up. Which really just involved beating me over the head, knocking me out, and carrying me to this abandoned clinic. I remember waking up slowly, head aching and throbbing, and looking around as I realized I had been simply set in the corner of a room. There was nothing in it, just a single working light. That was when the panic and fear set in and I began to hyperventilate and pound on the only door in the room, screaming and hoping someone would hear me somehow.
As it turns out I had been in the janitor's closet. Scarface came, pulling me out by arm and more or less yanking me after him. At the time I was in a daze, unable to talk let alone fight back, and I let him pull me along. He led me to a room- some sort of place that minor medicinal acts could be held in, I suppose. There was a single chair in it, the kind dentist's would use.
Tony was strapped in it. They had bound his hands, ankles, and neck with thick restraining strips. He looked...horrible. The two of them had been torturing him for over a day and there was dried blood covering skin and clothes as well as fresh blood that made me gag from the smell. And then I realized Elijah was standing there. I hadn't seen him since the incident months ago when I had to...cut him open.
He had this friendliest smile on his face, like we were simply greeting each other at the grocery store, and even said hello and asked how I was doing. I couldn't speak at the time and probably looked rather traumatized, so he just gestured for Scarface to sit me down in the corner again. Tony was watching me with his
Elijah, he- it still makes me gag to think about it- he pulled his injured eye out. It was in a jar filled with some sort of liquid, floating in it. The socket was empty and red, scarred all around it and oh god it was horrible and
They had been pulling nails too, cutting him where it would hurt the most, carving their own sick versions of tattoos into his skin that will never go away. Scarface apparently gave him a cut running from his injured eye to his ear to "match his own" while Tony had still been screaming in pain from his eye being pulled out. They had punched him and kicked him but done everything they could to keep him in one piece, not broken, and still awake to be in agony for hours in end until that monster would come for him. The room stank of blood, urine and sweat and I began to cry in the corner, just sitting there and being useless.
Elijah, the master surgeon behind Tony still living, said he wanted me to watch as he broke every bone in Tony's body because this was my fault for not killing him when I had the chance. Scarface grabbed my head and forced me to look at my Anthony as Elijah began breaking a finger, and then another, and then another. And Tony was gritting his teeth, trying not to cry out and wheezing for air. He couldn't move or do anything and that was when something inside of me...snapped.
I just...I screamed as loud as I could, startling Scarface and loosening his grip. I twisted away and lunged towards Elijah, shoving him into a counter nearby and cracking his back against it. Then I grabbed one of the knives they had used to carve into my Anthony and I turned in time to stab outward and right into Scarface's throat. We both froze and he gurgled, chocking and trying to push my hands and the knife away. I just twisted it and pulled as hard as I could to the side and it ripped out of his throat and
I killed a man last night. I am a murderer.
Elijah ran while I stood there with the bloody knife, watching Scarface's body drop to the floor and blood pool around his head, eyes staring at the ceiling unblinkingly. After a few moments I snapped out of whatever stupor I fell into and numbly freed Tony. We didn't talk. He grabbed a few supplies that Elijah had brought along to patch himself up and we left. I helped him limp back to the car- we were lucky no one stopped us and asked why we were covered in blood. The car was still where we had left it, everything in it. We spent the night there, silent and wiping blood off of ourselves as best as we could, and trying to fix Tony's wounds.
I don't know how to feel at the moment. I don't really feel anything at all. Elijah and Scarface had come for Tony and I to torture us both until that monster arrived to break our minds. They did what Tony had done to so many other runners. I suppose they thought it would be a fitting end to he and I.