The Hostage

Marcus stood on shaky legs, as the three men around him were waiting for their leader to arrive. The three men were nicely dressed, each of them wearing the kind of fancy clothes that the rich liked to wear. They were all chatting amongst themselves, sharing a drink at the bar. One of them was standing behind the counter, serving the two men a drink. 

He was laughing, his black fedora hat obscuring his eyes. Marcus never liked to look into them, his eyes were a pure black, and it honestly scared the crap out of him. Marcus could tell the other soldiers standing inside the room were also uncomfortable with him, each of them were all looking down at the floor or in any other direction, not wanting to stare into those eyes. 

Sometimes Marcus wished he never agreed to take this job. 

At least he wouldn't end up like the poor lad that was currently tied up in a chair in the middle of the room. He had a bag over his head, and he kept on murmuring prayers. Marcus knew that no words would be able to save him from whatever was about to happen. 

Marcus flinched when the doors burst open. The three men stopped what they were doing, each of them turning to face the doorway. Their leader stepped inside, his girlfriend trailing behind him. She was a robot, her feet stomping across the floor, her body shaped liked a beautiful model. Her body was fully metal, and the only clothing she wore was a blue and white coat over her 'metal breasts,' and a blue skirt. 

She had no face, only a white metal plate. She had a rectangle-like mouth with a blue radio wave whenever she would speak. Even her hair was built onto her body, and Marcus would find himself admiring her figure from time to time. 

He hadn't been around a woman for a long time, but it shamed him that a robot was the only thing he could admire for now. She stood behind the leader, her arms crossed over her blue metal chest. The leader was conventionally attractive, the kind of man that women would swoon over. 

"What the fuck happened here?"

The man behind the counter giggled. His laugh sounded like a little boy, and it made Marcus extremely uncomfortable. 

"He wanted to leave us. To run away. Run. Run. Run. Run!"

The man hopped up and down, mimicking crying sounds mixed with laughter. It was an awful sight for Marcus, and those eyes didn't help. 

The leader sighed.

"Another one? When are you fucking idiots going to realize you can't escape from us?" He surveyed the room, and none of the soldiers would dare to look him in the eye. Marcus didn't either. 

"Should I finish him off for you, my love?," the robot asked.

The leader took hold of the robot's chin, and he touched his forehead with hers. 

"No, my dear. I'm going to kill him. I need to feed. I can feel my body craving it."

The robot touched his chest. "I wish you weren't so fragile."

He took hold of the metal hand, kissing it. He let go of the robot, and she went over to join the three men. The four of them watched as their leader took off the bag from the man's head. He had two black eyes, and a broken nose. Marcus didn't want to do that to him, but he had no choice. Once you're selected to do a task, you must do as you're told. 

Or you will end up like the man on the chair. 

The leader flicked the man's nose, and he let out a groan from the pain he was still feeling. 

"Why did you try to run from us? You know what happened to the other one. The poor thing was torn apart by my little friend over there."

The robot tilted her head, and the leader blew her a quick kiss. The man shut his eyes. 

"Please. Please…I'll do anything. I promise…to not…betray you…again."

The leader chuckled. "Too late for that, my friend."

The leader removed one of his black gloves. He placed his hand over the man's face. His screams lasted for a second and became muffled. His face was mixing with the leader's own skin, and a slurping like sound echoed from the man's body. His skin was becoming pale in seconds, and the man behind the counter was laughing with glee. 

The man's screams stopped after a full minute. The leader tried to pull his hand away, but it remained stuck to the man's face. 

"Sweetheart? Could you help me?"

The robot walked over to the leader's hand, and yanked off the man's face from the leader. It made a ripping sound, reminding Marcus of paper being torn in half. The body fell back against the chair, the mouth open in a silent scream. The leader put his glove back on. 

"God. I feel so much better. And I want something else now."

The leader faced the robot, a long green vine slithering out of his mouth like a snake. It flicked at the robot's face, but she placed both hands on his chest. 

"Not here."

The vine slipped back into his mouth. "You're right. I suppose we can have some privacy." The robot reached up to play with the coat's slipper, and the leader flicked out his green tongue suggestively over his lips. Marcus would rather witness the man die all over again than that disturbing spectacle. 

The leader waved a hand at the three men. "I'll see you assholes later. Marcus, could you clean up the mess?"

The leader threw his arm over the robot, and they left together. The three men at the bar continued their banter, like nothing happened. The soldiers in the room were all silent, pretending they did not see one of the most horrific deaths take place in front of them. 

Marcus was about to retrieve the body, but something clattered near him on the floor. 

"Use that. It will make it easier for you to clean up the body," the man behind the counter said with a giggle.

Marcus looked down to find a saw. He picked it up, put the body on the floor, and got to work. There was not a speck of blood in sight. 

The hostage had been completely drained of his blood. 

A fate that Marcus hopes to never meet. 

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Thank you for reading!

Emy Quinn