I had my head inside Carl’s boxers, and the smell was tremendous. Why did I have to be put inside the suitcase? Crystal could have carried me, I would have been good. Maybe Carl was punishing me for the crap I pulled on the way to rescue Crystal. After all, me being here was his idea.
All I had to do was find a way to get him back.
Foraging through his things I came across a bag of pens, a knife, some zip-lock bags, a lighter, and some heavy duty rubber bands. Looking at the pens, I smiled at the words, "Permanent Ink."
Now I had an idea. I grabbed the knife the best I could and slowly cut the pens, emptying the ink into the zip-lock bags.
So he thinks since I’m small and fuzzy that I can't do anything? I can't wait to see his face after this. I took the lighter and sealed the bags shut. I had three bags in all, each filled to the brim with permanent ink. I grabbed the rubber bands and tied each end to the locking mechanisms on either side of the suitcase, making a make-shift slingshot. I tied the third rubber band to the middle of the first and pulled it back, wedging it between the lips of the suitcase in such a way that when its opened, it would release what ever the slingshot was holding at Carl. I put one ink packet in the slingshot and the other two I stuffed in his shoes.
I sat down in a corner and leaned back. I was thinking of trying to sleep, but lately the dreams kept getting worse. I was always tied and Andrew always had the machete. If there was a God, he had a sick sense of humor by bringing me back.
This Door of Death had me spooked. Something about it stirred a memory, and not a good one. Something I couldn't quite place but it made the dreams so much worse. Now I was seeing Crystal having her head smashed in.
What was it that I remembered?
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