Hostage

A classic heist

Hi guys, so this story is done. But I am just editing, adding more descriptions and maybe adding scenes. So if you see an update, it's because of that. Thanks!

Bank robberies are so cliche. Is it like, a right of passage for criminals or something?
The funny thing is, is that I hardly ever go into banks, but this morning I had to since my card wasn't working in Gotham. All I wanted to do was visit my cousin Jim. It was supposed to be exciting, my first trip alone since I was eighteen now. And it was, in fact, now it's a bit too exciting since there's a robbery taking place. Great.

Predictably, we're all made to sit on the floor and have our hands bound. A man with greasy hair hanging over his face binds mine while leering at me. The rope is coarse and tied so tightly that it's biting into my skin. If I want to have any skin left on my wrists I won't be able to move them at all while they're tied. The man is still leering. He looks like the type that's doing this to feel important and powerful, when in reality he doesn't really have anything going for him. I suppress a shudder and offer him a look that would have frosted glass. A flash of orange catches my eye. A young man around my age begins to address the crowd.

"Now ladies and gentlemen today is quite exciting since you get to be a part of a real classic. Usually The Maniax prefer to do original pieces but this is a tradition if you will," he announces while gesturing grandly. A woman begins to sob  and is promptly shot by the ginger man. Another screams and is similarly cut off. A red pool slowly leaks outwards a few people away from me. A man in glasses flinches away from the liquid. The women don't move again. "I really do hate being interrupted," the man chides as if he's a teacher talking to his class. He's got a manic smile; the kind where the eyes are too intense, too wild, and the mouth stretches just a bit too wide. There's too much teeth, no warmth in the eyes. Even if he hadn't done a thing wrong, one look would tell you there was something not quite right. He's definitely disturbed.

I take a deep breath through my nose and clench my eyes shut briefly to compose myself, before I panic. Stay calm, don't do anything to draw attention to yourself or annoy them. I talk myself through it. I must have looked very calm since the man fixed his gaze on me. I'd drawn attention to myself, exactly what I didn't want. This day just keeps getting better.

"Well hey there gorgeous. You look awfully relaxed for someone in this situation. Aren't you scared?" He asks grinning.
"Yes, a bit," I admit in a deadpan voice," but I know showing my fear won't do anything beneficial." I shrug towards the dead women for added effect. Correct decision.
"Ahh, I like this one," he walks closer and sinks to his haunches in front of me, "she's different. It's fun to see something different. The others all get a bit-" he circles his hand in the air searching for words "- boring after a while, really."
I make a split decision. I could keep acting unaffected or try something really different. I just hope I can keep the novelty going...
I grin up at him.
His eyes widen in surprise and his smile brightens , "and the ropes...they're not bothering you?"
"Oh I don't really mind being tied up that much," I say in the most seductive way I can manage so only he can hear me. Now I'm really gambling. I've never been tied up in my life. I'm not into BDSM. I'm still a virgin. This is such a massive lie I'm surprised  I'm not currently aflame. But it's the right decision again.
The man bursts out laughing, "oh you really are too much fun. We can't leave you here, so I think I'll just take you with me. Bag her," he instructs someone over his shoulder.
As everything goes dark the panic beings to set in. Somebody picks me up and tosses me over their shoulder. It's not the slight ginger man or the greasy one who leered. This person is tall, that's all I know. My head bobs with every step as I am carried away. I only wanted to stay alive, not be whisked off with a band of murderers. But I'm thankful when the gunshots and screams begin to ring out behind me, even as I feel guilt and sadness for all the people left behind. "I'm sorry," I mouth, a silent apology that I escaped when they didn't. They go on and on until I'm buckled into the seat of a car. Safety first, I think drily.
The worry about my survival takes up most of my thoughts, but I still have time to question what the hell went on back there. I was just acting right? Survival instincts made me act attracted to him, right? He wanted different so I gave him different. Is it even normal to act that way?  I've heard of acts of bravery when in a hostage situation, but nothing like this.