"Oh fuck, he's making a mess," said Mike, grinning at Carla. "Gonna ruin your nice carpet, babe"Carla giggled. "Don't worry, sweetie, he'll be cleaning the whole place up Monday morning. You wanna kick him around a bit, honey? ... now he's grovelling on the floor." Do I ever!" grinned Mike.He set about the task with relish, gave the cowering Simon a good kicking to his ribs, his stomach, his butt.Carla watched, clapping and laughing."Oh my god, baby, you can sure put the boot in, can't you? Listen to the poor thing yelp!"And Simon certainly was yelping."Yeah, he's a noisy little fucker, isn't he? Maybe we should gag him right now," said Mike, when he'd finally finished and Simon lay snivelling in agony."Should we do that, Carla baby, do you think?" Nah," said the grinning Carla. "I like the sound of him crying. Any case this is nothing is it, sweetie? Compared to what we've got planned for the poor thing. We'll gag him when you start to REALLY torture him."Simon was listening and he. Starting from the top left corner of the glass panels, I begin counting the blinking lights. I used the same trick when I was younger, if nothing I did could make me fall unconscious.One...Two...Three...Fou- something catches my eye.The silhouette of a bulbous head, with gleaming white eyes stares menacingly at me. A small, Rattata squeak escapes my lips as I tighten the grip on my sheets. Maintaining eye contact for a few brief seconds, the head ducks down, and the sound of something heavy thudding into a pile of leaves manages to squeeze through my window. I remain staring at the spot, as a million thoughts flood my mind. Was that a pokemon!? A stalker!? A... a murderer!? No... no, no human could land on the ground from two stories up without getting hurt, or letting out a little cry of pain. Right? Wait... is he dead? Is it even a he?Before thinking it through, I throw my sheets off of my ebony body, and get to my knees. I barely feel the cold air as I hold the bottom lip of the.
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