She nodded slowly. “That makes sense. How’d you figure that out?”
“Spider told me, Cathy,” he said again, the sweat still pouring down and mixing with the blood now. “Spider told me that, and she said: pain is my power.” He crumpled his brow. “What does that mean?”
Cathy shrugged solemnly, wishing she could help her friend more. “I don’t know.”
There was a knock at the door.
Then there was a knocking sound as the door was kicked in.
“Get in the tub,” he said quietly, staring at the bathroom door. It was hanging open and swaying still from the force Cathy had used to open it. There was no lock on it; his mother had been bugging his father to get it fixed for weeks. All that was left was a few scraps of twisted metal where the lock had been. He looked across the hall at his bedroom door, and all the locks on that door. But the stairs were between the two and he could already hear their heavy, drunken footsteps on them.
“What?” she whispered harshly, glancing over at the tub which simple age had stained a dark yellow. Her head seemed to be on a swivel. She wanted to look at the tub, but every time one of the criminal’s feet fell, her head snapped back in the direction of the door. Sweat was lining the edge of her hair now, making her bangs soak against her forehead. It did so in spirals, and if you looked at her the exact right way, she looked like an alien from Farscape or something like that. “No!” she blurted out, finally realizing his ‘master plan’. She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. “I won’t let you.”
He grabbed her by the wrist, giving her a little shove in the general direction he wanted her to go. She nearly toppled over the side of the tub and beat her head off of the faucet. “Go,” he mouthed slowly. By this time, Xander could see Al and Raine’s shadows on his bedroom wall. It was unmistakable now; there was no question. Cathy still hadn’t moved, so he reached over and gave her a little nudge into the tub, pulling the curtain shut and hiding her presence.
Xander crouched down, preparing himself. As soon as he saw their laughing, maniacal forms start to make their way up over the stairs, he bolted for his room. His feet flew along the floor he knew so well like wings, each impact sending a vibration through his body that irritated his bruises. That was alright, he knew there would be plenty more where they came from. As he passed by them he reached out and gave Raine a quick shove, nearly sending him toppling over the stairs. But the rapist steadied himself on the railing, and Al helped him regain balance from behind.
Xander cursed softly to himself. His cheeks red and puffy from the sudden effort as he made his way to his bedroom door and opened it. He slammed it shut behind him, hearing their screams and protests, then quickly reached up and started to fiddle with the lock.
Too late.
They slammed on the door, forcing it into the young man’s face. Xander tumbled back, landing the arch of his back against the corner of his computer desk, of all places. Damn, he cursed again as he tried desperately to catch his wind and regain his footing. Unable to move, he watched both men enter the room like locusts, taking their places on either side of him. It was abundantly clear that, unlike in the movies, these two would not be coming at him one at a time and waiting for him to assure himself a victory.
They lunged forward as one, each grabbing him by a shoulder just as they had done to Greer Donaldson, and probably Julie Peterson as well. Probably god only knew how many other people. They forced him down onto the floor and started slamming their fists and heels into his lower neck and jaw.
“I’ll teach you, you son of a bitch!” Al laughed, as he picked up Xander’s wooden chair and slammed it across the boy’s face. Blood flew from Xander’s mouth and splattered against the wall, making a long red streak there. They were coming at him from both sides, with nary a space between blows. His head was so rattled he thought he could actually hear his brain bouncing around inside it, barely protected by the fluid therein. “Bastard!” Al screamed again, planting the soul of his boot squarely into Xander’s face.
“Try to ruin our fun!” Raine chimed in, snatching up the knife that Xander had dropped and driving it deep into the child’s mid-section, puncturing a lung and coming a little too close to his heart for anybody’s comfort. “I know you did!”
They finally slacked off, but Xander did not fight back. He fell to the floor in a heap, looking as dead as one could, blood seeping out of a swollen face that was so puffy in wasn’t recognizable as his own.
Al laughed and cocked his head toward the hall. Raine got the idea and started to laugh as well. They both grabbed Xander by the shoulders again and carried him out of the room.
The two of them dragged him into the bathroom, where Cathy watched in horror through the slits in the shower curtain as they started to dunk his head in the toilet, over and over again. They were trying to drown him, and were obviously very disappointed when they held him under for a full minute to little effect. Raine scooped up a bottle of Mr. Clean and shoved the nozzle into Xander’s battered mouth, then put as much pressure on the bottle as he
