"…What are you staring at, huh? Did you piss yourself already? Looking for a way out?"
Jay's voice cut through the silence, sharp and mocking. The sound bounced off the storage room walls, dripping with venom, meant to break me down.
He was huffing, chest rising and falling like a wild animal. Honestly, it was a miracle he was even standing. His head had just been smashed with a TV, and yet here he was…still grinning, still taunting, still dangerous. He wasn't just testing me; he was waiting, watching, trying to read my next move.
My throat tightened. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. Still, I forced myself to speak.
"…W-what are you doing… J-Jay?" My voice cracked, trembling with fear.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
"You… you think your mother would be proud of this?" I added.
For the first time, his mask slipped.
"…The fuck?!" Jay barked, confusion flashing across his face.
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as sandpaper, and pushed on.
"…You think she'd be happy to see her son on the news…throwing his life away, becoming this…this while she's lying in her hospital bed?"
The moment the words left my mouth, I saw it: a twitch in his expression, a sudden shift in his body. Sadness. Regret.
Jay lowered his head.
I hadn't said it to calm him down or turn him into some good guy…I wasn't that smooth with words. When I'd scrolled through his phone earlier, I'd seen a photo. Him, smiling, arm around a frail woman in a hospital bed. Her head bald, her face wrinkled, but her eyes warm. The caption above the photo read: "Become well, Mom." Even a kid could tell she was his mother.
That's why I brought her up. Not to save him. Just to shake him. Make him lose his edge.
He raised his head again. His eyes carried something I couldn't read…fury, regret, maybe even desperation.
"…What do you know…" he whispered.
"…What do you know, huh?" he whispered again, louder.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW!?" he snapped, his voice exploding with fury.
I froze. A single tear glistened in his eye.
"You think I'm some kind of monster?! With no heart? A ruthless beast? A sick fucker who enjoys toying with his victims?!" His voice cracked, but it was still loud enough to make me shiver.
"…At first I tried," he whispered, dragging a hand across his face. His other hand tightened around the knife, knuckles white.
"…I really tried… tried to do the right thing, like any other human being." His voice was hoarse now, trembling.
"I worked part-time. Labor. Delivery. Handyman jobs. I remember doing those when I was around thirteen...just to help the hospital bills." He paused, lowering his hand from his face.
"…Every night I was exhausted. Every day, I was starving. I thought about dropping out, but my mother wouldn't let me. She wanted me to finish school. So my grades dropped instead."
He looked at me then, forcing a broken smile.
"…But you know the funniest part? None of that mattered. The money wasn't enough." His voice dropped low, bitter.
Suddenly, he screamed, voice cracking with rage.
"You hear me!? The fucking money wasn't enough!!"
His words echoed through the room. His face twisted with fury, veins bulging at his neck.
"Those old bastards never cared about us. So in the end, I turned to the other side. And now I fucking ask you again…what the fuck do you know?!" He shouted, knife trembling in his grip.
I gulped, frozen in place.
I don't even know what I'm feeling. Rage? Fear? Empathy? Maybe all of them tangled together. Rage, because the world failed him, or because he gave up. Fear, because he's more broken and dangerous than I imagined. Empathy…because, despite everything, I can feel the sacrifice he made for his mother.
But who am I to judge? It isn't my job to decide what's right or wrong, what's morality or cruelty.
What I know is that he's not thinking straight, and I have to subdue him somehow.
"ANSWER ME, YOU FUCKER!" he shouted again.
He stepped closer.
…And then…I lunged.
He had dropped his guard after his emotional outburst, and I knew I had only seconds. I could try to slip past him, maybe grab something to fight with, but I couldn't do any of that; I was weak. Desperate.
Time slowed as I charged. Jay's face twisted into shock…like he couldn't believe what kind of crazy idiot I was. But he was distracted and too slow to react.
I lowered myself, aiming to tackle him.
Thud!
Thud! Another sound followed as something like steel fell on the ground.
We both crashed to the floor.
"Aghh!" he groaned.
Pain shot through my shoulder like fire as I rolled. I'd slammed into him hard, and now it felt like my shoulder was broken.
"Damn, that really hurt," I muttered, clutching it while still lying down.
I shifted, glancing at Jay. He was down too, not far away, clutching his abdomen. The concrete floor had made the impact worse.
I tried to push myself up with my free hand.
That's when I felt it…a sudden cold ache in my left side.
"Aghh!" I groaned.
Confused, I touched the spot. Cold metal. Then warmth.
I pulled my hand back and saw it smeared with dark red blood.
The knife.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe my racing heart, but I barely felt the pain. Still, the sight of my own blood made me curse every word I knew.
I was losing blood.
But even then, I clung to one thought: I had called 911 before stepping in. The phone was on speaker. Help was coming.
At least, I prayed it was.
I knew if I moved too much, I'd bleed faster. I couldn't stand up, couldn't tie Jay down. What I'd done felt stupid…reckless.
I looked at the knife still lodged in my stomach. Pulling it out would only make things worse.
My eyes flicked to the girl. She was unconscious, now on the ground, her back against the large box, breathing calmly now…so different from before.
Then I looked at Jay again. He was struggling to push himself up, but I noticed something: when I slammed into him, a shelf had collapsed onto his feet. He was pinned.
'…At least the cops will get here before he escapes,' I thought.
I glanced at the knife in my side.
"Heh… and hopefully they bring an ambulance too." I forced a smile, my voice mocking, trying to erase the tension and boost my own morale.
With that, I closed my eyes, my back against the floor. Darkness swallowed everything.