Game of Death

19

They led me out of the cell and through the police station. I had, of course, been handcuffed again. Everyone had stopped working and was now staring up from their desks at me. I gave everyone I could a death glare and they quickly hurried back to working. Right now, I'm pretty sure I'm one of the most feared people in the country. I looked around and realised they were taking me outside, probably to a car. I'm assuming that the court house must be far enough away that I need to be driven there. Maybe I can hijack the car. I glance down at my handcuffs and move my wrists around. Looks like that is definitely not going to be happening, I mean, I know I'm amazing and so much better than everyone at most things, but I'm not fucking superman. 

 The air outside was cold and there was a slight breeze which caused goose-bumps to run up my arm. The sun was barely up and there weren't too many people about. If I had to guess, I'd say it was not later than 6:30. The two police officers, who I had found out were named Dan and Peter, shoved me into the back of the van and headed around to the front. They were arguing about something, which one of them should drive, I think, but I really didn't care. The car jolted forward and I tumbled down onto the floor of the van. The back of the van was cramped and due to still being handcuffed, I was unable to get myself back up onto the small seat along the side of the van. The fact that the officers were driving at around 20 kilometres over the speed limit didn't help either. 

Somehow, I managed to move around into a sitting position. I'm not sure how long it had been, but eventually, the car came to a stop. The door at the back of the van swung open and the officers pulled me out. We had arrived at the back of the court house. They had probably hoped that by taking me in through the back we would avoid the media but five or six journalists had still managed to get around the back. They all shouted their questions at me. I didn't answer anything but gave them a smirk which would hopefully make the cover of a few newspapers. If I'm going down, it might as well be in style.

 We were about halfway through the court case and I hadn't even said a word. There were two lawyers spinning their case to the jury about why I was a danger to society and how, and I quote, "The world would be in grave danger if I was allowed to walk free". There was some more talk about how psychotic I was before I was finally called up for questioning. A police officer, one I hadn't seen before, picked me up by arm and dragged me to the podium out the front. I swear they asked me thousands of questions and to each, I replied with a sarcastic response, I even received a few chuckles from members of the public who had stopped to watch. Looks like I might have a chance at getting off after all. Everything was fine until I saw one of the lawyers pick up a small journal. 

"Would you like to explain what this is?" My ever present smirk faltered, turning into a small frown. Oh shit. How did they find that? "Where..." I run my hand through my hair. "Where did you find that?" "Oh, your 'friend' found it for us." He gestured behind him. "I believe you know Maggie." He stood to the side and I got a perfect view of a very smug Maggie looking at me. I should have known.