Blood is Only Sweet When Dead

Uprising

When I woke up, I noticed myself strapped to a chair with duct tape over my mouth. I looked around and saw grey walls and a large grey metal door. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a cart with bloody tools. I felt the cold sweat run down my face to my chest. The hairs on my neck stood on ends. All of a sudden, I heard the door shut. A tall man wearing a black leather jumpsuit and a white mask stood in front of the cart and began to pick up a knife. As he stands before me, he squats down to look me dead in the eye. My eyes watering with the fear of dying. I try to struggle to break free, but the straps were weighing me down. He pulls my neck down and slits the back of my neck. I scream in pain, but the tape makes it difficult. I felt the blood oozing out of my body. I clench my fist wanting to scream more. He takes the pliers and takes my hand and pulls up my nail. The pain was unbearable. Tears stream down my face. My hands shake as the nail hangs. He pulls up my ring finger nail. I just want to break down and scream bloody hell to the world. What did I do to deserve this? My body trembling with despair. The large steps out of the room . I just sat there, not even trying to escape. I noticed something that started to move under the table in the corner of the room. I saw a man covered in his own blood. He stood up and walked towards me. He was an average man. He had long black hair, green eyes, a slightly large nose. He was wearing a white tee shirt. You couldn't tell that he was wearing one, because of the blood that surrounded it. As he rips off the tape from my mouth, I let out a low scream, so the masked murderer couldn't hear hear me. "What is your name?", I asked in a mellow tone voice. "Trent Williams", he replies.