The Innocents by Nathan Senthil (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

as if a shiv was jammed into his vertebrae, knees gnashed and throbbed at the slightest movements. The soreness on his ass had started burning, like the skin was abraded, making him scared of shifting even an inch. Being forced to sit for an extended period of time should be in the top ten torture methods, he’d guessed.

The snoring abruptly stopped, worrying him.

“P-petey?”

“Oh, we’re still stuck.” Peter cleared his throat. “Thought it was a dream.”

“Are you okay?”

Peter said, his voice grainy, “If having your head wrapped in a cloth and limbs tied to a chair, potentially to be gunned down is okay, then yeah, I’m A-Okay.”

Joshua said, “I’m really sorry, man. If it weren’t for—”

“Spare me the crap,” Peter said. “You didn’t drag me into this. I wanted to come.”

“But you have a remarkable service record. Good pension.”

“So what? You think I’d rather spend my days watching the news and sitcoms?”

Joshua nodded as if Peter could see. “Beats having a sack over your head.”

“Someone taught me it’s better to die in the field than sitting around, broadening your ass.”

While Joshua smiled, his eyes prickled. His best friend remembered something he had told him almost two decades ago. He felt blessed for having Peter by his side, at this moment of his life.

“Thank—”

Metallic grating paused Joshua. A key opening the door. That soundproof door. Alright. End of the road.

Joshua wanted to get something out of his system quickly. He said, “You’re a good friend.”

“I know,” Peter said. “Wish I could say the same, but honestly, you were a douchebag to me mostly.”

Just as the snide comment began to hurt, Peter said jovially, “I’m kidding. You’re a great friend. And the most tenacious guy ever.”

“You’re talking like it’s a good thing,” Joshua said. “Look where it’s got us.”

Both burst out laughing.

The door was opened, then shut. Two pairs of shoes approached them, and amidst strong footfalls, a less-than-capable leg was dragging a foot behind.

“This is not funny, knuckleheads!” Roman said.

“That’s because you haven’t heard the joke,” Peter said.

When Roman first talked to them hours ago, he was surprised that they knew about the location. But after Joshua said it was the cheese stench that gave it away, Roman had acted embarrassed, mincing words and sounding insecure. Must be self-conscious of his weight.

“Say, who’s the redhead?” Peter asked.

“A high-ticket hooker,” Roman said. “We didn’t pay her though.”

“You killed the girl?”

“We don’t leave witnesses,” Roman said. “Neat trick, uh? Hiding in the trunk to ambush? We learned it from Lolly, and thanks to that, we finally caught you slimy assholes.”

“Now that you did, what’s next?”

“What do you think?” Roman said. “We’re gonna shoot you and kill you dead.”

“Shoot you and kill you dead?” Peter mocked. “Get your bad-guy script right. It sucks balls. Not man balls. I mean huge swollen gonads of an elephant.”

“Levi,” Roman said in a stern voice and someone pulled the slide of a gun, chambering a round. “Give it here.”

Joshua heard Roman’s foot scuffing along the floor, moving closer, finally halting behind them. A few seconds later, he said, “Try being a clown now. I dare you.”

“Anything for you, pumpkin,” Peter said. “So a fat Italian with a tiny pecker walks into a bar—”

The explosion froze everything for a microsecond. The thunderous bang ruptured Joshua’s eardrums and vibrated through his sternum, stopping his heart momentarily. But he recovered from the shock and called Peter’s name out, his voice muffled, like he was underwater. No answer.

It just couldn’t…

His partner. His friend. Who followed him everywhere. Like a puppy. Warm tears cascaded down Joshua’s cheeks.

It just…

An eighteen-year bond was severed in half a second, by a piece of lead.

His mouth parted in a disbelieving shock, drool escaping from one corner, as he gasped and sucked in air.

It…

Somewhere deep within, an animal screamed, “No!”

As the world span out of control, gravity acted strangely. Joshua fell off a cliff, a precipitous drop, but he never hit anything. While he battled insufferable agony, his breathing became labored. He shook the chair, rattling it on the floor.

The bag was yanked off, and the light hurt his eyes. Joshua smeared his wet face across his shoulder.

To the right, he spotted Peter. His head slumped forward. It was covered with a burlap sack, just like Joshua’s.

Except it had two holes in it.

Blood dribbled from the front hole and poured between Peter’s thighs, making an eerie dripping sound as it hit the floor. And smoke coiled upwards from the one in the back.

As vertigo returned, and the animal inside him howled again, the bag was pulled over his head.

When wailing in agony, he realized something. Peter had remembered what Joshua had told him so many years ago and lived by it, hadn’t he? Then shouldn’t Joshua value what his late friend had advised him recently?

Never let your enemy wreck your mind.

Peter wouldn’t forgive Joshua if he cried before his enemies. They might take your body, but your mind always belongs to you, he’d said.

Trembling, Joshua sat straight and took a few deep breaths. He calmed himself and made peace with the inevitable.

He didn’t have a say in his birth, so why should he have one at his death?

As he relinquished the want of control, a smile appeared on his lips, which transformed into a laughter.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Roman asked in irritation. “You guys on drugs or something? Why aren’t you scared?”

“We all gotta go sometime. And I’m ready to meet the maker.” Joshua tilted his head, angling it towards where he supposed Roman stood. “The question is, are you?”

Roman didn’t speak for a few seconds. Then he said, “Nothing personal, man. Our boss is old and desperate. He’s willing to do