His body shuddered involuntarily as if his nose touched a familiar scent of dread. Why this place? Why here? The monotony of my torture is cruelest in my lack of mind. Just... end it. The mans foot breached the entrance of the room allowing a small glint of light to enter in from the outside. Was this a metaphor? He thought to himself. There were the strange 'pigeon-like' calls echoing the back of the room that became commonplace.       "LUH! LUH! LUH!" The noises echoed the area with no confirmed source. Although, he noticed a Hispanic, a dirtball, and a boy with a strange mustache. Dime could still not remember why he returned. He hated this place so. It was almost as if there was an invisible force dragging him toward this hell. There was a small Asian girl approaching out of his peripherals- Dime pretended not to notice. His interactions with her in the past have always lead down a road with no end. He vowed not to allow it to happen today. 
      "You still owe me $100 for your portrait" Her words stung him. He had not asked her to draw a portrait of him. She took it among herself to invest her time- not him!       "I owe you nothing, Shy. I don't wish for any trouble today. The soles of my feet ache. They worked me like a slave today. I seek only a moments rest." Dime did not bother to lift his head to acknowledge hey as they exchanged words.        "You will pay for this. I will inform the keepers of your insubordinate words." Shy turned away and moved with purpose. His eyes now focused on her when she turned her back. Dime traced the girls movements toward a small gathering of men toward the back of the room. He knew them well. The inhabitants of these gatherings only ever referred to them as, 'the mods'. The meaning behind this term, Dime could not be sure, but he knew the consequences of crossing them from spectating their actions upon others. He was in trouble and he knew it.       As vile of a place this may be, he had friends. Others, who like him, dreaded their time spent and the redundancy of their stay. To them, this place was a drug they were addicted to.        However, today there was a stroke of luck. He saw a man known as Ballstank approaching him. Not the kindest of fellows, but Dime could label this man an ally. Perhaps he knew the whereabouts of the others. The people of this place referred to them with angst as, 'The Nerd Herd'. The label was made popular by a drunkard named Puddle.         "My mom said you can't come over anymore because you say too many cuss words around my little sister." Ballstank said this with a slight grin on his face.       Dime tried to reply, but found himself struggling. Startled he looked over to the Mods. Shy had an ever growing smile on her face as she saw him crumble with anxiety.          "Have they silenced you? What did you do?"          Dime could only look up at Ballstank with fear in his eyes. He had never been muted before. How long would this last?           "He said they worked him like a slave today. The mods removed his voice for racism." The voice came from a rather plump man exiting the bathroom. As soon as he showed himself, there was a flock of people harassing him with insults about his appearance. He barely seemed to notice.           Ballstank seemed outraged. He begun to pace, contemplating his next move.           "Nerd herd! Assemble!"         There was shuffling within the crowd in the back. Out stepped a man with his pants around his feet and the backside of his underwear stained with blood. He limped over to Ballstank.           "Whats wrong?"            "I don't know Chad, but the tyranny of this place is starting to deteriorate me. I remember a time...." He was cut off by the snickers of a lone man in the corner.            "Puddle, you bastard!"            "I'd say not to get your panties in a bunch, but it seems like Chads already accomplished that"             "Take it back, you son of a bitch." Chad lunges toward Puddle. His arm cranks back to deliver a blow to the side of his face. With a swift duck Puddle crouches beneath the swing and uses Chads momentum to throw him into the wall. Chad laid motionless. The rustling of thrown bodies and shuffling feet attracted the attention of two others. They came from a table in a corner that could barely be seen. The one was a very handsome man, his eyes could melt rock. His hair had a little bounce when he walked. The man with him was equally as attractive, but his presence did not care to pulsate. They moved forward with fire in their eyes.            "I would of never pinned you as one who would pray on the meek" His words addressed Puddle, but his eyes were fixed on Chads motionless body.            "Ahh, Matthew and Captaindumbass, I was thinking to myself this party was short two jerkoffs."     Matthew simply grinned and flipped open a notepad he had concealed. No one could understand anything he was saying, but the words were aimed at Puddle. Each phrase, each sentence, seemed to act as bullets as Puddle was twitching and falling backwards against the wall. He landed where Chad had fallen. It seemed as if the impact had snapped Chad back from unconsciousness. He wrapped his leg around Puddle and pulled him close as if to embrace him like a child would a favorite stuffed animal.             "Chad seems to be coming back. I was worried. That bastard really gave it to him." Ballstank said.     Captain seemed to embrace Ballstank with a handshake that almost stood as a means of identification.              "Lets go to The Big Casino, this place smells like cock."             "What about Chad?"             "He stinks of piss and cum."             "Leave him."     They all left. Dime quickly followed them out, looking back at the Mods. They were laughing at him, one even waved at him sarcastically as he stumbled out. He was so startled that he tripped over his feet as he was leaving. The man looked like a complete idiot. The others did not wait for him, but his pace quickened in pursuit as he left the room.