Mafia (DNF)

Twenty-eight

My hands were still tied as he led me to the other room. As we stepped in, I noticed a camera pointing to a seat in the middle, and felt a little nauseous.

Was he going to film himself torturing me?

He shoved me over, and I sat down reluctantly. I got tied back again, this time with stronger leather straps. My heart was beating out of my chest, and a worker adjusted the camera at me.

One of the men grabbed a piece of fabric and tied it around my mouth. It was rough and uncomfortable.

Pink-haired man (I still didn't know his name) nodded at the worker, and he took the cover off the camera lens. He turned a light on as well, and I squinted at the brightness.

"Hey, Dream. Look who I've got," he teased. My eyes widened, and I looked at the lens. Was he watching?

"Now, I've had an email sent to you... you can read the terms and conditions if you'd like, but to summarize, I want your entire weapons network, including the factories and shipments. Now, it's a little complicated, but all I need is a "yes" and we can get started."

Dream's voice must have been transmitting into an earpiece or something, because I couldn't hear anything, but they were talking.

"Sorry, you don't have any time to think. Every minute you stall, I'll have to mark up your little PA here a bit..."

My stomach dropped. There was a stopwatch, counting down from a minute, and we were already down to 20 seconds. Apparently, Dream didn't give an answer, because the pink-haired man grabbed a knife from his pocket.

"First minute is up." He walked over, and held it to my cheek. In one swift motion, he sliced a line down the side of my face, and I squeezed my eyes shut at the pain. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a groan, but he didn't seem to care. Blood dripped onto my arm.

I could hear a little bit of Dream shouting, but not enough to make out any words. I didn't look at the camera, but I knew the lens was pointed straight at my face, straight at the bloody cut.

I really hoped Dream had a plan, because I knew this was just the beginning. I watched the clock tick down, dread pooling in my stomach. Again, it went down to zero, and I heard shouting on Dream's end.

He didn't seem to care much, and picked up the knife again. This time, he used it to cut my shirt, revealing my shoulders and collarbone. I looked away as he cut down my shoulder to my arm, and I hissed a little at the stinging.

"I need an answer, Dream," he sighed. "Otherwise we'll be here forever. Or, at least until he bleeds out and goes unconscious." 

No one bothered to wipe away the blood from my arm, and I felt sick at the warm feeling on my skin.

He looked annoyed, and called someone on his earpiece. Immediately, the door opened, and I recognized the "technician" that kidnapped me.

He had the nerve to stare me down as he handed a glowing red knife to the pink hair guy. I couldn't take my eyes off the red knife, wishing for it to cool down before the minute ended.

"Now, Dream, I'm getting a little impatient here. This knife is very hot, and it would be a shame if your precious assistant got burnt."

The clock hit zero again. I sucked in a breath as he walked towards me with the glowing knife.

Please, Dream, figure something out. Please.