Malice Writing Workshop

Prompt One

The last thing I remember was staring down a barrel of a gun and now I find myself in a cold damp room of which the surrounding surfaces are hard, slightly curved held together by rough mortice. The mattress is squeaky, at least there is one although the springs are digging into my back. I raise my torso and brush a hand along the skin to feel dried blood. How long have I been down here? More importantly how am I going to get out, think, you've been in worst places before. Sad but very true, my life has been one filled with more colours than the rainbow, and I don't mean in a cute, laughable kind of way. More twisted, throw you down a rabbit hole, shut the door and throw away the key kind of way.

Which explains why I was none too surprised to meet the end of a barrel, of his gun, not my first time and surely it won't be my last. Although usually my silver tongue works its' magic and I find my way out of these less than pleasant scenarios, apparently not this time.

So I've made a few wrong calls in my time, but who can blame a girl for trying, the world dealt me a shit storm for a life and I've done my best to hold up my end of the bargain by throwing in a little lightning. Cause who doesn't love lightning, dark night sky lit up by purple sharp flashes.

So here I am trying to figure out a way through my current predicament. Should I move, look around and find out more about my surroundings? Nope too late, footsteps, their footsteps, two of them. They're discussing what to do with me, surely they should have figured that out by now, does that mean it hasn't been that long after all. I lay still, close my eyes, slow my breathing and wait while their steps becoming booming thuds. The door screeches open, I want to open my eyes, see who it is, but I mustn't, I need to find out more details before making my next move.

They're close now, I can barely contain myself. I feel them watching me closely, analysing every inch of me, why? Contemplating my use, for what? I couldn't do it, not anymore, they were to close for comfort, the rage inside built up enough that I could no longer contain myself. I lashed out, launched forward; fists, legs, head, everything moving, fast and hard, I was out for blood.

They weren't expecting me to react, they must have genuinely thought I was still out cold. They stepped back but I was too quick and latched on, they began flailing under my grasp. It was as though they had never been in a fight before. I used this to my advantage, pounded their ribs, winded them, they were now unstable and so I knocked a knee from beneath them. They fell hard towards the solid ground, I dropped, straddled them and began pounding their face.

Rope wrapped around my neck, the other one, how could I be so foolish, there were two of them. The rope pulled tight and I was forced to dig my nails into my own skin while trying to wiggle my fingers beneath the rope. I needed to breath and soon, I could already feel the fatigue from the first fight settling in, my limbs were going limp. Think, God dam-it, think, you've weaselled your way out of worse situations.

I let my body go limp, the rope was still tight, they leaned in close and I tried to use my weight to lean forwards and flip them over. It didn't work, they were too close to head-butt and so I went mental, super-insane. I kicked the air, tried grabbing them from behind while still trying to hold the rope off my neck. They weren't going to be as easy to beat as the first guy. O right the first guy, I glanced over and he was still lying on the floor, good, at least that was one thing going for me.

I've always been a fighter, too stubborn to give up, but this time I really thought it was going to be my last. I held out for as long as I could but it all started to slip away. My vision greyed over and there was no more fight left in me, something I thought I'd never loose. The tingles spread rapidly along my limbs, the grey blur turned into a blaring white light, this was really it, good bye pathetic life.

"Enough." A voice boomed from above, what? I tried to look, see who they were, see what was going on, but I couldn't because I was blinded by a florescent light, an actual light. Which meant I was still alive, but for how much longer? The ropes' pressure finally released, my lungs rapidly expanded and I began to cough uncontrollably. I brought a hand to my throat in an attempt to sooth my airways.

"Now that you've met the competition, let me elaborate on a few details. You've all been brought here for your individual talents of which I'm undecided will help me more. This brings me to my dilemma and also you, to your current circumstance. Find your way out of this mousetrap and I'll let you live, even walk free. I may even be so generous enough to through in a little bonus, one that none of you will be able to refuse. It's not the same for everyone but still it's one thing you all desire more that life its self. So are you going to fight? Sacrifice everything for this one little prize and of course your life. How much do you want to live? Not all of you are going to make it out alive.

Prove yourself and as I previously mentioned I'll let you live, walk free once you've done one small thing for me. You're all here to prove you have what it takes to pass my test, to show me you are capable of obtaining what I want. Prove your use to me.

For the moment you have been placed into groups of three. You have twenty-four hours before things get... lets just say a little more interesting. Now lets see which one of you is smarter than the average mouse. Let the traps unfold." The voice ceased and the room became dark once again.

It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust. The whole time my mind ran wild, I could hear the cogs in my own mind trying to catch up, place all the puzzle pieces together, and actually register their words. Register what was actually happening. Without really giving myself a chance to decide whether or not it was a good thing to ask the words were already slipping from my lips, "Do you know who that was?"

I was kneeling now and my eyes had adjusted, I could tell they were just as stunned as I was. What kind of sick game had we found ourselves in. "I don't know" Their voice was soft, not what I expected from a man who only mere moments ago was trying to strangle me. Now that I could see them, they didn't look the type to be found in a place like this. They were well-dressed, smart casual, they could be mistaken for any normal stranger you'd pass on the street. But then again what was normal, not me that was for sure. What was so special about them?

What was their special talent?