Author's Note: This is my second story here on fictionpress, though I'm no stranger to writing--just been focusing on my fanfics for way too long, lol (check 'em out through the link on my profile page if you like!). Anyway, just wanted to let you know this is story is rated M for language, violence, blood, and sexual content. So yeah, there's my warning. ;-)

Hope you enjoy, and please review! Reviews are always very much appreciated and loved.

The dim light swung idly above the dank basement, but I didn’t really notice. I was too busy thinking about the situation at hand, and how I was going to get out of it. I tasted blood in my mouth, and my nose hurt a fucking lot. Still, I couldn’t give these guys what they wanted.

“I’m not gonna ask again, Reed,” a muscular man about a decade older than me slurred. His breath smelled heavily of hard liquor and cigarettes. “Where the fuck’s Philly?”

I smirked, which was really more painful than it sounded. “He doesn’t like to be called ‘Philly.’ Or Phil. His name’s Phillip.”

My head sank to my chest as my body recoiled. Getting punched in the stomach never got easier to handle; I grunted in pain and couldn’t breathe for a good minute or two.

“You some kind of pain addict, Reed?” A second man emerged from the shadows. He was a little younger than the other man, and had short blond hair. His boyish face hid his inner demon: behind his charm he had a secret love for inflicting pain on others.

I felt something hot and slippery roll down my cheek and drip off the edge of my chin; it seemed like I was always losing blood, one way or another. “Believe it or not,” I struggled to say after the latest blow, “I actually hate pain a great deal. Though I suppose you can’t tell after this showing, huh?”

Blondie didn’t respond. I looked up from my seat and stared into his green eyes as he approached without a word. I shut my eyes tight as soon as he grabbed my broken nose and I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming. When he snapped my nose back in place, I lost it. I let out an ear-splitting yelp of pain. Jesus, but getting your nose broken and then fixed hurt.

“I trust you’ll tell us now?” the blond man asked, wiping my blood on his pants.

“Fuck…you…” I said, breathing hard.

“But then the girlfriend would be so disappointed,” Blondie answered. “Now, I believe you were about to reveal something to us?”

I needed to stall these guys; the longer they paid attention to me, the more time Phillip had to escape. But I was about done getting beaten up, and if Phillip hadn’t left by now…I’d given him plenty of time. “Listen,” I said once I’d recovered. “Much as I enjoyed my stay, I really should be going now. Curfew and all, you know how it is.”

That’s when I swiped my combat knife from my back pocket, torn open the rope that held my hands together, and gutted Blondie. While he was busy keeping his guts in his abdomen, Mr. Steroid charged at me with a huge fist. I grabbed the chair I’d been strapped to and smashed the wooden seat over his head. He fell hard as blood began pouring from the huge gash in his head.

Blondie stared intently at the knife in his stomach, then looked back at me. “How the hell…?”

“Did I do it?” I finished. “Easy. Hid it in my back pocket. Should’ve checked, buddy. And now I’ll be needing that back.” I pulled the blade from his stomach and blood took its place. It rolled like red lava from the man’s midsection. He dropped to his knees in a classic post-stab manner, and flopped onto the concrete ground. I didn’t wait to see if he was dead, and I didn’t check on the steroid poster child either. I wiped my blade on Blondie’s jacket and ran the hell out of there.