"W-why?" Rocks muttered under his breath.
Sam made eye contact with him, closed the lid of the timer and said, "I guess not. I will not push you, for now. Take your time and when you are ready to hear me out, meet me at that hut." He pointed towards the hut, the only hut visible from that place. Sam loosened his grip, Rocks fell on the sand. His eyes closed. Sam walked away, towards the hut.
A few hours later...
Rocks opened his eyes and turned his face away from the dazzling sunlight. He saw the rusted shovel, half-dug grave and most importantly, the timer, which was now ticking the days he had left to live.
"Tch!" He slowly stood up and pressed his head, trying to recall what had happened.
"Oh, I saw the timer." He said to himself with his lowest voice. The second thing he did was glare at the hut and then carry the shovel.
"Motherfucker" He yelled as he ran towards the hut. He jumped towards the door. But just when the shovel touched the door, the door opened. He was pushed aside along the door.
"Whatsup Rocks! So you decided to hear me out, huh?" Sam said, looking at the grumpy face of Rocks.
"I'LL KILL YOU!" Rocks roared in one breath.
Sam laughed for a while. Then, he grabbed Rocks and pulled him inside the hut. Rocks struggled but Sam was able to tie him up and pin him down to the circular table at the centre of the room. The room was almost empty. Except for the table, there was a single bed and closed boxes in the corners of the room.
Sam let out a slow breath. His expression changed completely. That change was enough to make the struggling Rocks completely still.
Sam began, sitting on the bed, "You will join Interpol and work under Charles. It was a request, but now it's an order. If you do not comply, you will be cut and disposed of in a volcano."
Sam made a fake laugh and continued, "Sounds absurd, right?"
His expression neutralised, "Well, it isn't. And the good news for you is that you will not die for 100 years. Mind you, the pain is too horrible to even imagine."
Shrills ran down Rocks's skin as he heard those words. The fear on his face was too much; it overloaded in the form of tears. If he weren't in such a situation, he would probably have laughed it out and teased Sam. But, no matter what funny threats Sam made; the way he put it wasn't funny at all.
He stood up, a slight grin showing up on his face. With the clenched fist, a swing of a punch landed on Rocks's face, knocking him out.
The Next Day...
Rocks opened his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the pain he felt from that punch. He touched his face with his hands. The nose was twice the normal size, covered with bandages. Almost all of his face was. He didn't have the energy to yell and go wild like he did yesterday.
He was in a medium-sized room with empty space, just enough not to feel compact. There were 4 small beds, 2 ceiling fans, 2 big drawers and 3 tables in the room, not to mention a couch and a TV as big as the wall.
A man with long, blue, straight hair was sitting on the couch, chatting with someone on the phone. He turned towards Rocks and said, "You are finally awake, huh?"
Rocks was looking at the ceiling, lost in thoughts. He didn't hear that man's words. The man banged hard on the bed, making it lose balance and almost fall upside down.
Rocks gasped hard and fell from the bed. "Ouch!" His face had crashed on the floor. Blood leaked from the bandages. He pushed himself up and glared at the man.
The man said slowly, "Don't get spaced out yet. As you are now, you're not privileged to shoot that glare at anyone here. I don't mind but-"
Knock! Knock! The man stopped talking and walked to the door. Rocks was not feeling any calmer but he didn't have any energy to go wild. He had lost too much blood. His vision got blurry, and his head began spinning.
The next thing he knew, he was down again. The man, however, didn't notice that and was looking through the keyhole. No one was out.
The man said, "Sam, I'm here. Think you can tease this brat any-" He looked behind and saw Rocks lying on the floor.
The man changed what he was about to say to, "Woah, Sam. I think you overdid it."
Sam replied, "You're not the one to talk here. Anyways, come with him to Mike's cabin. We've got some talking to do. You know, formalities." His body was still not visible. Only his voice was heard.
The voice said, "You see, I had had a few mugs of beer. You can't blame me for that. Life for a few days there is too boring. Anyways, let's go."
The man picked Rocks with a hand and walked outside.
A few minutes later...
They were in an office along with Sam, facing an old man with a seasoned face. The man sat on the bossy chair and Rocks, spaced out, was lying on the table.
Sam coughed once and said, "Sir, what to do with this kid?"
The old man was reading a document, which was the only piece of paper in the office. He stopped reading, closed the file and put it in an empty drawer.
"I assume he still hasn't agreed to join. So, as he wishes, we will not enrol him 'officially'. You know what I mean." He stopped talking for a second, then, called out, "Stan, call Charles here."
Stan was looking out of the window. About 10 birds were circling around a yellow-haired man wearing a woollen dark blue night dress. He was walking towards their building. Birds had covered him completely. The birds were small but had unique blends of colour on their feather.
"Stan!" The old man shouted. Stan quickly turned his face towards him and said, "Y-yes, sir?"
"Did you hear what I just said?"
"Of course, sir. In fact, I was about to call him but he's coming."
Knock! Knock! The door was knocked. "Come in.", said the old man.
The door swung open. Birds flew inside and one of them pecked Rocks and returned outside along the flock. A man stepped in and said, "Mike-," He saw the old man's glare and flinched with an annoyed face for a moment.
Them, he continued, "Sir, did you have something to talk about?"