Chapter 3

When the three people woke up, they were bound in chairs in a shed.

"Now tell me your names," said Ryan. No answer. "TELL ME YOUR NAMES!!"

"Tommy!"

"Greg!"

"Clyde!"

"Alright, guys," said Ryan. "I don't know where you got that treasure map from, but we're going to play a game here. Here's how you play: I'll ask Tommy ten questions. And the amount of questions he answers wrong… will be the amount of fingers each of you will lose! Understood?"

Tommy, Greg and Clyde whimpered but slowly nodded their heads anyway, trying as hard as possible to stay calm.

"Okay, Tommy, here we go: what's my name?"

"Ryan."

"How old am I?"

"Sixteen, I think?"

"Where was I born?"

"How am I supposed to know that??"

"Where? Was? I? Born?"

"Uh… Los Angeles?"

"Do I have any siblings?"

"I think so."

"Are my siblings male or female?"

"Female."

"If you answered female, then what's her name?"

"Malty."

"How old is my father?"

"Fifty."

"How old is my mother?"

"Also fifty?"

"What's the name of my neighborhood?"

"Market Height, I think."

"And last but not least, what grade am I in?"

"Eleventh grade."

"Okay," said Ryan. "You got… eight questions wrong."

"No! Please! Mercy! MERCY!!" cried Tommy as Ryan sliced off eight of Tommy's fingers with a kitchen knife.

"Your turn!" Ryan said to Greg.

"HELP!! PLEASE!! I'LL DO ANYTHING!! PLEASE!!" Greg screamed as Ryan sliced off eight of Greg's fingers too.

"Righto righto! Now you! Say goodbye to eight of your fingers!" Ryan mockingly said to Clyde as he chopped off eight of Clyde's fingers.

"NO!! NO!!" screamed Clyde.

"Right!" Ryan said. "Anyways, what shall we do next? Oh, I know! Hey Tommy! How old are you?"

"You're not going to get away with this," Tommy growled.

"How? Old? Are? You?"

"You really think--"

Ryan pulled out a knife and held it in front of Tommy's face.

"How old? Are you?"

"Uh… fourteen."

"Okay!"

Ryan kicked Tommy in the stomach fourteen times. Tommy gagged and coughed out blood.

"As for you, Greg," Ryan said, "I'm going to ask: do you like scary movies?"

Greg, knowing that refusing to answer would just make things worse, nodded.

"That's too bad!" Ryan replied. "No more movies for you!"

He picked up a needle and used it to prick both of Greg's eyes. The screaming that came from Greg could be heard even from many miles away.

"And you, Clyde," said Ryan, "how much do you like talking?"

"I… don't really… talk that much," Clyde said nervously.

"Good! So that means you don't need your tongue!" said Ryan. "Aaron!"

Aaron stepped forward and used pliers to tear out Clyde's tongue. Clyde screamed louder than ever before.

"Now you learned the lesson of taking treasure like that," Ryan said to Tommy, Clyde and Greg. "The treasure's mine, you pathetic cunts. You really think you would have actually kept it? So foolish. So disappointing. I wonder what you see in each other. This will help you learn."

Ryan picked up a brick and shoved it down Tommy's throat, causing Tommy to choke to death. Next, he used a scissor to cut Greg's throat out. Finally, he put on gloves and covered Clyde's nose and mouth, causing Clyde to suffocate to death.

"Is it just me or did I find that super fun?" Ryan said gleefully.

"Are we gonna do this to the next person who finds a copy of the map?" asked Aaron.

"Duh," said Ryan. "Knock it off with your retarded questions."

The gang left the shed.

"Now where were we?" George wondered. "Oh yeah, we were looking for treasure."

"We were last in the seventh location, right?" asked Gavin.

"Right."

The gang made it back to the seventh location, and they used the place as a reference point to move on to the eighth location. They continued picking up treasure until it was ten in the evening. Looking at the map, they realized they were very far from the hay pile.

"Great, now where the fuck will I sleep?" Ryan complained.

"Is that a lodge over there?" Gavin said as he pointed at a maroon colored lodge.

"I think it is. Not sure how I didn't notice that."

The boys approached the lodge and went inside. It was very empty in there. No beds, no tables, no chairs, no food, nothing. The walls, the floor, and the ceiling were all made of wood.

"How did this end up here?" Aaron said. "Who built this even?"

"I don't know," said Ryan. "I'm not the fucking builder of this lodge, so…"

"Since the ground is all made of wood, and there's not a furniture in sight," said Gavin, "maybe we should try sleeping on the grass outside. It's not dirty or wet or anything."

The gang went outside and practically collapsed onto the grass out of exhaustion. After all, they spent nearly the entire day searching for treasure (and also tormenting the three other people who had the treasure map too), and so they had no energy left.

As early as five in the morning the next day, Ryan and his gang got up to find an easier route back to the area containing the hay pile and the shed. As they walked, they used a pencil that Ryan had in his pocket the whole time to draw the route. Once they made it to the shed, they contemplated the weapons along with what they were going to do that day. Ryan sauntered around and looked over all the weapons. He stopped at a group of torches. He felt like a lightbulb clicked in his head.

"Hey!" Ryan said to a kid who was approximately in middle school as the kid sat on a tree stump and fidgeted.

"Yeah? What's up?" replied the kid.

"What's your name? And what grade are you in?"

"Jason. And… I'm in sixth grade."

"Well, Jason, did you know the food supply is starting to run low?"

"What? Really?"

"Yeah."

"How are we going to eat, then? Do you know anywhere else where we can get food?"

"That's what I'm meeting with you for. Follow me. There's a place filled with a lifetime supply of food and drinks. Oh, and do you have any friends around?"

"Yeah, do you want me to get them?"

"Of course!"

Jason gathered his friends, and they followed Ryan to the lodge. Once they got there, George, Gavin and Aaron were already standing on the porch surrounded with younger kids.

"Okay, guys!" said Gavin. "The food is all in there! Eat whatever you want! Go on!"

The kids rushed into the lodge. Once all the kids were inside, George shut the front door and giggled.

"Aaron, the torches!" called Ryan.

"On it!" said Aaron as he picked up three torches that were hidden behind the lodge and handed two of them to George and Gavin.

"Don't forget me!" Ryan reminded.

"Yeah, I know," said Aaron. He walked up to Ryan and handed him the torch.

"On your marks! Get set! Go!" said Ryan. He, George and Gavin started setting the lodge on fire with the torches as Aaron stood in front of the front door with a broomstick in his hands, ready to shove anyone who tried to escape back into the lodge.

"Come on, you fuckers!" Ryan yelled at George and Gavin. "Torch every single parts of the lodge you can see!"

Gavin cackled as he picked up a stick, set the stick on fire, and threw the stick onto the roof, while George burned the front door with his torch.

"Oh man, this is beautiful!" Ryan cried in joy as he briefly stepped back to observe the burning lodge. Meanwhile, every single kids inside the lodge could be heard screaming in horror as they were burned alive.

"Should we continue?" asked George.

"That's a hell of a stupid question!" Ryan yelled. "Of course! Burn it all to the ground! Burn it until all the kids in there are charred beyond recognition!"

"Okay, got it!" George replied.

Five minutes later, the entire lodge collapsed. Ryan chortled and threw the torches away. Once they were far away from the burnt lodge, they sat down on the hay pile to take a break.

"I've been thinking about it," said George.

"Thinking about what?" asked Ryan.

"We really need to find a way out of this place soon," said George. "We can't last forever. My parents must be worried sick."

"George," Ryan said in a threatening tone, "what did I tell you about bringing up parents?"

"I'm sorry, I just--"

"Shouldn't you be enjoying it like I am, George?" Ryan said in a hostile tone. "No parents? No stupid cockless grown-ups to monitor us 24-7? We're free, George. We can do anything we want. We want to stab a kid? We stab them. We want to burn someone? We burn them. Imagine if the teachers were never separated from us. As usual, we would be forcefully obligated to act like nice, civilized people. How boring is that? The only time we can take out whoever we dislike will be when no one is watching. And those times are rare, George. Those times are rare. You say another word about anything even distantly - even slightly - related to grown-ups, and you'll severely wish you haven't. I'll end you. Don't think I can't."

George opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of what to say. Gavin and Aaron were too scared to interject. The gang didn't interact with each other for the rest of the day.