Michael's POV
A man walks out of the shadows. He's dirty and ugly with a gun in his pocket and a knife in his hand.
"What a surprise to see you all here." He gives us an evil grin, showing off his yellowing teeth.
I don't know what to do and I don't think anyone else does so for a solid 20 seconds only breathing is heard.
"Well better get this over with." The man says and walks over to Luke.
He grabs a fistful of Luke's hair and tilts his head up, placing the knife against his neck.
"You there, the pretty girl who isn't tied up." The man motions at Emma. "Come here."
Emma looks at me wide eyed but doesn't move.
"Goddammit did you hear me? I don't fucking care about the gash in your leg, get the hell over here." The man pulls on Luke's hair harder and I can see Luke begin to shake.
Emma's lip begins to tremble as she lets go of me and makes her way slowly to the man. Her eyes are glossed with tears and she's limping majorly. I can see the pain in her face and I can't imagine how she must be feeling. When she gets over to him, the man lets go of Luke and pulls out another chair.
The man looks up at me and points his knife towards Emma. "You with the weird hair, if you move or try anything I will not hesitate to plunge this knife into her skull."
I gulp and don't move a muscle as the man ties and gags Emma, like he did with Luke and Clara. It takes him a while and I think he purposely touches her wound every now and then, causing her to whimper in pain. My fists are clenched and I want to do nothing more than to kill him but I don't move. I can't risk anyone getting hurt.
"Okay you with the strange black and red hair." The man looks up at me when he finishes tying her. "What's your name?"
"Frederick." I blurt out and I can tell by the looks on my friends faces that they would face palm if they could.
"Frederick?" The man scoffs. "Alright. What are these guys' names?"
My mind searches for any names other than theirs and it goes to the most recent movie I watched. "Harry, Hermione and Ginny."
I look towards Luke who's face is full of pure disbelief and I have no doubt if he was standing next to me, he'd slap me.
"Hermione? Which one is that? That's such a weird name." The man makes weird face.
"Um, the one with the hurt leg is Hermione." I say quickly. When I get nervous, I tend to just talk. And right now I was beyond nervous and terrified, causing me to say these random things.
"So, Frederick, how many of you are there? You know, besides the one that's dead." The man asks me, taking a step closer.
Clara and Luke make a muffled screaming noise through their gags. Their eyes widen and they look at me with pained faces.
"Fletcher is dead." I mumble, looking at them. I hope they get my reference. Luke's shoulder slouch and Clara's eyes fill with tears. They look defeated.
"I didn't ask for the dead boy's name." The man snaps. "How many more of you are there?"
"I don't know who else is dead." I try to avoid the question.
"How many entered this house?" He grabs Clara's shoulder and she panics as he tilts her body back, placing his gun against her temple.
"Eight!" I yell. "Don't hurt her!"
