Work Text:
The midnight club
" Where the weakest run for their lives"
Omniscient narrator:
David was escaping through the window of his house in the middle of the night. The wind was blowing hard and the tension of being found was running through the veins of our blond friend.
His parents were arguing again.
His only way out was a small town taken by his friends on the outskirts of that little town called Rotten Flower. A town not at all known in Texas, which was dominated by white racists, willing to do anything to torture black flesh.
Arriving at the small house full of holes, broken windows and full of graffiti made by his schoolmate Sheila.
He was greeted by Michael, his best friend and the only black-skinned teenager in town.
Although david loved michael like a brother. But the social pressure of being a soccer captain was too strong and being friends with the only black man excluded and disowned by society was not flattering.
Upon entering the place, he encountered the typical scene he saw every night.
The typical two old armchairs that he found on the street were situated in the small living room.
Where sheila and cherryl were smoking marijuana in the mustard chair.
Although many people assumed that the activities they did there were the stereotypical activities of teenagers pretending to be rebels. It transcended into something more serious... something more dangerous.
In the only room of the house, besides the bathroom, there was a bag with 4 masks made by cherryl and a disturbing and disgusting amount of bladed weapons.
Although the cold was insufferable and dangerous. The group of friends walked calmly watching for traces of any teenager, child, adult or old man on their radar.
Sheila was walking with little jumps with her sharp knife and porcelain doll mask.
She was walking along calmly until a boy crossed her radar and sheila's blood boiled.
That need, that hunger she hid in the mornings to pretend to be normal, to be like everyone else.
That lack of flesh that consumed her every day, sought her out and tormented her.
She could not leave him, she could not let it go.
Her intentions became stronger as she felt the fear of that innocent boy.
Fear, something that for sheila made the meat richer.
That fear she felt when the other girls harassed her in the bathrooms and made fun of her.
That fear that she never thought anyone would feel when they saw her.
David quickly attacked the boy who was weaker and smaller than him (estimated to be 13 years old).
Michael stabbed the boy hard and sheila desperate and hungry began to cut pieces of his weak body.
Cherryl watched with those big blue eyes to make sure no one was around.
She was a girl of few words. The stereotypical teenage cheerleader who hated to think and have her own judgment.
Perfect person to manipulate.
She didn't eat that meat. But she loved feeling superior to someone, and the fact that she was in a group that didn't make her feel like an idiot or weak.
Although the cuts were bad and messy.
The kids took certain parts of the child.
The others left him in a carefree manner in the middle of the street.
The scene was one of terror, a child lying there dismembered. It looked like it had been attacked by animals, wild and hungry animals.
They carried the pieces of meat in garbage bags and hurried to the small home that was not so far from where they were.
When Michael arrived, he sighed as soon as he closed the door.
He loved adrenaline, he loved to run.
Although at his school they didn't want him on any team because they thought he was weak.
Michael always loved running and sports.
But that excessive discrimination and hate he received for being who he was. It destroyed him all the time and the fact that at least at night he could be the one in charge, the one who was scary and the one who destroyed the weakest, excited him.
David laughed with excitement as soon as he dropped the bag on the floor without guilt.
David had no big problems. He was the envy of everyone, rich, handsome, athletic and adored by all.
But they always want more, and they don't hesitate to do anything to be exclusive and feel that adrenaline rush.
He adores meat, he tried it a couple of years ago once he saw a person who had been shot by his older brother.
Not knowing what to do with his body, his brother Nikolas cut him up and threw the meat in different places, but David kept a piece of it.
He cooked it and tasted it, never wanted to leave it again.
It was his dirty, hidden secret that he shared with his little group of rejects and ignoramuses.
Cherryl grabbed the bag without disgust and with her small white hands grabbed pieces of meat to cook.
With a knife she had stored in the dirty little kitchen, she cut off the pieces of skin that did not disgust or frighten her.
Sheila, exhausted, decided to put on a small CD and listen to the music that calmed her at all times, punk.
David took the beers out of the refrigerator and gave each of them a can of beer.
Michael sighed and plopped down on the old couch as he took a drink and relaxed.
That feeling of comfort and friendliness he never felt in his daily routine.
It was one of the few things he enjoyed about his harrowing and turbulent life.
The night is young and dangerous.
Full of mysteries of people that anyone could believe that they are normal, that they are kind.
But in the most unknown places we find destroyed lives and kids who just want to have a good time on a typical Friday night.