Horror Story (Section I)

                                                                     ii.
                                                 "Meet us after school today okay?"
Derek was strolling the halls of West Alexander High School when a tall boy with gauges in his ears had spoken these words to him. He smiled pleasantly and his eyes widened, for months at a time he had been watching and learning from this crowd. This crowd of kids with long stretched black hair, ripped jeans with holes in provocative areas, gauges in every available spot on their face and different contacts for each eye had been Derek's idols. To a concerned mother or to an elderly woman roaming the streets at night, these teenagers may have seemed like a nightmare but they were just rebellious youths looking for attention from their rejective peers.

All semester long, Derek had attempted to make his way into the crowd by mimicking their appearances and actions. He walked with a sag and only spoke in uttered phrases and after several long awaited months, he had finally been asked to join the misfits. Throughout the rest of that day, the only thing that ran on Derek's mind was what possibilities could be awaiting him with his new group, he would have done anything to get their attention and would do anything to seek their approval. It remained a mystery to Derek's parents why he would seek the approval of such an odd and outdated clan of kids. Perhaps it was due to their discontented personalities or dark styles with matching gray patterns or maybe it was only for the fact that Derek had felt like an outsider with every other group. He hadn't excelled at sports or wasn't creative enough for the visual, musical or any other form of art so he simply clung to the group where he thought he would fit, unfortunately, this group was possessed with trouble. Finally, after the lengthy and ostensibly drawn out day that felt as if Derek were moving with bricks at his ankles, the last bell rang diligently through the chaotic school halls. He left his English Language class posthaste, not caring even enough to grab the lonely number two pencil he dropped from his book bag. ]
His eyes could detect every turn he had to make and which stairs he needed to use to reach his end goal, his palms were sweaty from dreaded nerves rather than exasperation. With the strap of his backpack slung over one arm and his left hand in one pocket, Derek strutted through the school halls feeling more proud of this moment than anything he had achieved thus far in his life. After navigating two flights of backed up stairwells and parking lots of angry yet excited teenage drivers, Derek had left school property and was now prone to the dangers of the world, no longer protected by obligatory faculty. He marched to the beat of two songs before he stopped dead in his tracks in front of a small building in the middle of a narrow alley.

The building in front of him seemed more like a small home for runaways or drug dealers but in reality it was both. The exterior was no prize home for sure, its walls were painted with obscene graffiti and posters decades old. A broken window had been obtusely repaired with cardboard and duct tape. A flock of old crows stood gallantly on the gutters of the shed, crowing at the foreboding sky that rained down with sorrow. A small but chilling breeze struck Derek's paper thin body as he knocked once, twice and then three times on the creaking oak door.
"Derek!" Exclaimed an eerily coarse voice.
Approaching the young innocent was a tall and perhaps gangly boy of the drinking age, as his eyes widened and his yellow mouth agape. "I thought you'd get lost, you're like a little puppy." His narrow fingers brushed Derek's soft and well managed hair.
"I'm here now, Jonah. I have to say I'm really glad you guys--" Before Derek could commemorate his new found friend, he was promptly interrupted by him.
"There will be plenty of time to suck up later, puppy. Now come inside and follow me."
His instructions seemed harmless enough for the nae boy, but the inside of the structure was even more damaging, corrupted and explicit than the exterior. Derek stepped a few feet inside and a wave of rotten cologne and sweat invaded his clean nostrils, his ears were bombarded by loud and typical music of the metal genre. The first thing the boy noticed were the people inside who were just as grossly foul and awkwardly built as the tour guide. Sitting close to the doorway was a boy who was much too young to even be about at the hour without his parents knowing, and an older boy sitting next to him. The older and ghostly boy pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket with a crystal like substance inside and offered it to the boy. Derek watched as the smaller and fragile boy initially rejected the offering, but rejection was immoral.
Across the room a more shocking site caught Derek's eyes and he immediately shifted them to it. Another tall and meatier boy was standing against the oily wall. Below him was a provocatively dressed girl with long coarse hair kneeling and her face thrusting towards him. The heavy boy's face beamed with delectation and he let out a blaring and quite obnoxious moan of release.

"So...what happens here exactly?" Derek asked his guide as they detoured into a long and stretched hallway with only a blinking red light to journey them. The teenager smirked, "Anything. We don't let people tell us want to do here, puppy. We want something, we do it." His declaration shined with admiration from Derek.
The guide stopped at the end of a hall, in front of a doorway with a sign reading: DO NOT ENTER. The blinking red light picked up in frequency, it cast shadows of dark and obscure monsters patrolling the walls. Derek was overwhelmed with intensity, not quite sure what to expect next.
"Now, puppy, it's time for your test. You wanna join our little club? You need to pass the hazing."
The boy's hairy palms twisted the bent doorknob and the door creaked open. Derek stared at the disturbing scene before him, as if the events he had seen in the main room were only child's play. A Caucasian young man was lying in the center of the empty and rusted room, his clothes missing and his arms & legs bound together. He slowly opened his eyes which wept with mercy, he saw the young Derek and ignited with hope. Although he could not speak from the cloth gagging his throat, he prayed--hoped in his mind for Derek to set him free. The captured boy's arms and body were scarred viciously, each bruise and cut seemed worse than the last. He also was suffering from severely red rope burns that were too painful to stare at.

"This kid...has been giving us some trouble," Jonah explained, holding something sharp behind his crooked back, "You see he told the Principal of the school one of our guys was scoring some weed from in town."

Derek remained as clueless and simplistic as ever, although a mix of sympathy arose too. He had seen the boy before in his Algebra class, although they never talked much, he had been polite and friendly with him and he was sure the boy had a clean conscience. His hair, which had been clean and shined every day that Derek could remember, was now ripped and frizzy. The boy's eyes were exceptionally bloodshot, as if his eyes were ready to spew with blood fall.
"But I know this kid, he helped the school donate all that money to the animal shelters and hospitals." Derek tried to reason with the frustrated Jonah, who was not willing to bargain.
"No, he is a pest. A grueling, disgusting pest!" Jonah gave the sobbing child a swift kick to the chest, leaving a purple indentation--but not the first. "If you wanna be a part of our club, you have to follow us. Never question the seniors, remember?" Jonah revealed the baseball bat from behind his back, except it wasn't a typical bat. The end of the bat was sharpened like a steak knife, ready to beat and or stab any given victim mercilessly. The wrangled boy began crying excessively, his flow of tears pouring onto the dusty and filthy floor and down his beaten cheeks.
Derek's mind raced with questions but he wasn't sure how to ask them, or if he even wanted to. Jonah was holding the bat in his hands, eying for him to take it from him. The boy looked at Jonah and then to Derek and then back again, praying in his mind that he could see his family once more.
All of Derek's ideas of humanities, human kindness and sympathy were questioned in this moment and with a devious smile he responded:
"Never question the seniors."