text: "Where the fuck am I?" The thought ran through his mind over and over. He couldn't see anything. He felt something over his face, a blindfold. His wrists hurt, he tried moving but the restraints were solid. Fear washed over him as he slowly realized his situation, he knew why he was here. He needed to get out of there if he wanted to live. The man tried to keep a level head but panic was setting in fast. The chair seemed light, as though he could walk while strapped to it. He leaned forward and screamed in agony as his feet buckled beneath him, crashing onto his side. The rush of adrenaline disguised the pain of his severed Achilles tendons. "Jesus Christ, you fucker!" Glancing at the clock he patiently sat and sipped his coffee. "Should be any time now," he thought, shifting in his seat. Getting up to go pour himself another cup he heard it. The sound almost startled him, but it was music to his ears. He half-smirked as sound of the chair smashing into the concrete echoed through the house. Driven by sorrow and hatred, his rage was near-impossible to contain. An incoherent, painful scream graced his ears. Another smirk; that’s what he wanted to hear. A door creaked open, the bound man jolted. Anxiety and pain clouded his mind but he needed to confirm his fears, he knew there was no getting out now. He scraped the blindfold against the grimy concrete to get a glimpse of what he knew to be the inevitable truth. The light from the stairwell stung his eyes, and he made out the shadow of a tall, slender man sipping on a mug of coffee. "What're you doing on the floor, David?" "Let me go, you sick bastard!" The captor chuckled, "Doesn't seem to me that you’re in much of a position to make any demands. Need a hand up? That looks uncomfortable." He grasped his captives hair and jerked, putting the chair back on its feet. David held his scream to a mild grunt while grinding his teeth. "What the hell do you want?! I'll give you anything, just let me go!" "I just told you, you don't get to make any demands!" The mug broke against David's head, blood and hot coffee running down his face. "She didn't get any demands, so why should you?" "God dammi..." "Shut up! You don't get to complain, it's your fault you're here! You think I wanna be here? I'd rather be at home with my wife!" He choked back the tears, "I want to be at home with her... but I guess I can't, now can I?" David's breathing grew faster, the pain was too much. "So what? You're just gonna kill me here? You'll never get away with it, no fuckin' way man." He hoped to scare the man, maybe to snap him back to a sense of reality. This guy wasn't a killer, just some normal Joe. Not the kind to spend time in prison or get in trouble with the law. David thought he just might convince him. "You really don't get it, do you? Think about it for a second David. The woman you've spent over a decade with suddenly dies, and not by accident, but at the hand some bottom-feeding scum of the earth like you. She was my love, the one good thing in my life and you took her away from me. But you probably don't know what that's like, do you? And since she was that one good thing in my life, you honestly think there’s anything left for me?" He paused for a second, collecting himself and catching his breath. "There’s only two more things left for me to do." He picked up a small hatchet resting on a dusty table, "I'm leaving this world tonight. But you’re going first.