Honest, we didn't do anything. I swear. It was only supposed to be a Halloween prank. Lure the fake Fed guy down to the Tombs and lock him in overnight. That's all we did. Me and Brad. We figured in the morning we'd let the guy out and he'd be pissed but that would be it. He was pretending to be a narc or whatever anyway, him and that friend of his, so we figured it wasn't like he could turn us in or anything. Brad said it would be funny. He said we were safe.

Then next thing I know, fourteen feet of tall and seven feet of wide and two hundred pounds of pissed barged into our dorm room and pinned me against the wall with his wrist pushing my trachea into my spine.

"WHERE IS HE?"

If words could be knives, I would've been filet right then.

"Who?" I asked. Squeaked. Gasped. Like he'd be talking about anybody but his friend. The only answer I got was more pressure and less oxygen. It occurred to me I hadn't seen Brad since we locked that guy away a couple of hours before. "Oh, right. Him. He's – uh – he's -."

"WHERE. IS. HE?"

You know, I came face to face with a fast-moving semi once, and it wasn't as scary as this guy in my face was right now.

"Tombs – he's – he's – in the Tombs." I was so short of air, I thought I was going to pass out. I wasn't sure my feet were even still touching the ground.

"WHAT ARE THE TOMBS?"

Geesh, did this guy talk in anything less than a bellow?

I pulled on his hand, wanting him to ease up on the choking, hoping not to die before I passed my Survey of Literature class.

"Can't. Breathe. Man. Can't. Breathe."

He let up just enough for me to suck in some air and then he clamped down again.

"WHERE?"

"Q-q-quad. North side of the quad." I managed to get past my traumatized throat. I was going to be whispering for days, I could feel it. "L-l-locked him in there…"

"LOCKED?"

"J-j-just – it's just an old cellar." I twisted my head and tried to not pass out, because even though I might find unconsciousness a relief, I had the feeling this guy would take it personally. "Honest. J-j-just a prank. Didn't – didn't mean anything."

He let me go. OK, he didn't let me go so much as he pulled me bodily out of the dent he'd put into the wall with my back.

"SHOW ME."

"Yeah. Right. Sure." I rubbed my neck and stepped around him. He was probably fast but I was fast too, and I could hide. Guess he figured out what I was thinking because he got my shoulder in a grip so hard I started to buckle and he leaned down to whisper to me.

"You run, I catch you. I catch you, you die."

Didn't think I'd actually miss the bellowing, but Gargantua whispering was a chilling thing.

"Okay. Yeah. Right. Okay. Um - yeah. It's - um - here - this way…"

I thought he'd let go to let me walk - no, with him at my back, I'd run - to the Tombs, but he kept that death grip on my shoulder and frog marched me out of the dorm and across the quad. It was Halloween, Saturday, late in the day and the campus was mostly empty.

Nobody to see us.

Nobody to save me.

The closer we got to the Tombs – which are actually just the un-destroyed foundation of a very-destroyed ancient university building - the tighter his grip got and the looser my lips got.

"C'mon man really we didn't mean anything it was just supposed to be a prank 'cause Brad's sister works for the Feds and we found out that you don't and really nothing bad could happen to him down there it's just an old cellar really that's all covered over and it's just really more like a maze and when we found out he wasn't really a Fed we thought it'd just be funny if we -."

The grip on my shoulder tightened until I thought the joint was going to pop. No, God, please don't whisper at me again.

But he did.

"Funny? Do I LOOK like I'm laughing?"

Yeah, he was actually less scary when he was shouting.

"No." I gulped at the barely controlled fury I saw in those eyes so threateningly close to my own. Where was a speeding semi when you wanted one?

The answer didn't seem to satisfy him, but he didn't ask for more. Other than,

"Move. NOW."

Although, technically, that wasn't a request.

We hustled those last hundred yards off the quad and into the semi-sort-of-wild-aren't-we-so-eco-friendly part of the campus where the old foundation lived under a mountain of soil dug up from where they dug the new foundation of the new campus sports arena a few years ago.

On the far side of that was an old door that led into the window-less, otherwise-exit-less, cramped, damp, musty, buggy…

Crap, I really did not want to be here when this guy opened the door and found his friend. Even if the guy probably was still in good condition.

Speaking of which…a large, old, rusty, cranky, uncooperative, was-there-ever-a-key? padlock secured the door to the door frame.

"I'll just go look for the key." I offered. I planned to look for it in Uzbekistan, I thought it would be safer than staying here. With him. Instead of agreeing, instead of asking where the key was, instead of driving me headlong into the wooden door to open it, Gargantua didn't even break stride, he only marched to the door - me in tow of course - and kicked it open.

Actually, I'm not even sure it was a kick. I think the door just sensed him coming and splintered itself to save him some time.

I still wasn't in the clear. The Grip of Death didn't let up and I was forced into the cramped, damp, musty, buggy -

"DEAN!"

Ow - buddy - my ears. His voice was like a cannon shot in that space. Even if I had gone to Uzbekistan, I still would've heard him.

"DEAN! WHERE ARE YOU?"

I flinched - well, I tried to - to keep my ears safe. But not only did he keep his fingers drilled into my shoulder, he shoved me forward into the darkness and dampness and bugness.

"FIND HIM."

I've been in the Tombs, but never all the way. It's supposed to be a maze. It's supposed to be crawling with bugs and rats and all kinds of rusty things you can get tetanus on. And I'm allergic to dust. Did I mention that?

"FIND. HIM."

Bugs? Possibly millions. Dust particles? Possibly billions. Pissed off Gargantua? One. My options? None.

Fate, luck, karma, whatever was with me though because no sooner did I take two steps forward than the other guy - Dean - appeared in front of me. Covered in cobwebs, spattered with mud, and no less pissed than his friend.

"You touch my car?" He demanded. He was huge too. Brad was so going to die for making us mess with guys seven inches or more taller than us.

"YOU TOUCHED THE CAR?"Gargantua demanded too.

"No. No." I tried to shrink back against a dirty dusty buggy ratty old foundation wall to get away from them. "No we didn't touch your car we wouldn't touch your car we only wanted to play a joke on your and lock you in here and we were gonna let you out tomorrow morning honest and we just thought it would be funny -."

I really had to learn to stop using that word.

"Funny?" Dean said. His voice sounded scratchy. Guess maybe we shoulda locked him in with some water. He leaned real close to me and did a real good imitation of his friend. "Do I LOOK like I'm laughing?"

I pressed so hard against the old stone wall, I could feel the original builders' fingerprints. Forget surviving my Survey of Lit class – I wondered if I was going to survive to my nineteenth birthday next month.

"Uh – no. Sir. No laughing. Definitely no. Not. No. No laughing. Not. Ever. Sir."

"Give me back my damn phone."

I pulled it out of my jacket pocket and held it out to him. I wondered if he'd take my hand with it he grabbed it so hard.

"Do you know what you're going to do now?" He asked. He sounded calm. I couldn't decide right then who was scarier – Gargantuan pissed, or this guy calm.

If I survived this, Brad was so getting paybacks.

"Um – die? Sir?"

"You are going to run. And you are going to hide. And you are going to tell your little friend Brad that if we ever see either of you two again – I don't care if it's on this campus or an old-age home fifty years from now - ."

I really didn't want to wait to hear what I had to look forward to, and I thought Dean would be too tired and Gargantua too concerned about Dean to give me much of a chase, so I made a break for it.

I got about two feet.

"STOP."

Another round of cannon fire skidded me to a halt only about a yard from the door and relative safety.

"Sam?" Dean asked. Right, Gargantua's name was Sam. I'd want to remember that. In case I needed to put it on my headstone. Dean didn't seem to know what Sam wanted any more than I did. Only Dean didn't seem as terrified of finding out as I was. Especially when I got the whispered voice again.

"You haven't apologized."

Apologize? I was supposed to apologize when these two yahoos went two days making me and Brad think we were going to Sing Sing because we faked up a couple of ghost sightings that had actually scored us dates with the Twigg Twins and all we did was make this guy sit in the dark for a couple of hours and all he needed to do was take a bath and meanwhile the Twins might never talk to us again?

I was going to apologize for that?

One more look at them, Calm and Pissed, and yeah, I was gonna apologize.

"I'msorryit'llneverhappenagaincanIgonowIhavetostudyformySurveyofLitmidterm."

They didn't say anything but I sensed it was now or never and I ran out of there like I was on fire. I saw Brad on the Quad and almost punched him a good one just because, but then I thought of a worse fate for him.

A really worst fate.

"Brad! The Twins are waiting for you at the other end of the Quad! They can't wait to see you there!"

Later on, I might even tell him I thought it would be funny.

The End