Post by Nadir on Sept 21, 2020 22:44:23 GMT -5
“It’d be polite,”
That voice. This is the first time you’ve heard it and you already hate it.
“If you’d not anger my cohort.”
Who the hell uses the term “cohort”? This isn’t the Roman Empire. It’s not like his voice wasn’t irritating enough.
You feel your mouth try to constrict as you attempt to clench your jaw, but all you feel is a sharp pain as the gag forces it to stay where it is.
And that’s before the brute in the mask tightens his grip on your head.
“That angered him.” He intones snidely, clearly pleased by the actions of his partner. “I did ask you politely not to do that.”
Like hell.
“You do realize that you are not in a position to be recalcitrant.”
That damned voice. Or more specifically the tone. It’s the tone that your parents took with you when you misbehaved, or the tone that someone took with you when they were trying to convince you of how worthless you are.
You jerk forward angrily but are quickly brought up short when you suddenly feel a painful pressure on the top of your head.
“I told you to behave.”
He leans forward slightly, not enough to step into the light and reveal himself, but enough so that you can clearly see the seriousness in his eyes.
“I’d like to be more charitable with you.”
A chair pun? Really?
“But you’re quickly leaving me without a leg to stand on”.
Damn it. You’re strapped to a chair in a dark...somewhere with a masked lunatic holding you down by your hair and this idiot is trying out his comedic chops?! What the hell did you do to deserve this?
“I bet you’re asking what you did to deserve this.” He says, almost as if he read your mind. “I’ll get to that.”
He lays in two quick slaps on the shoulder of the masked man, who he releases you so abruptly that his foot stomping down on the bar between the chair legs is the only thing that keeps you from falling over. The man in the suit smiles.
“You really should thank him for not letting you fall over.”
Thank him? How the hell can you thank a man when you can’t talk?
“No?” He responds somewhat thoughtfully. “That’s typical of people like you.”
What?
“Let me assure you that you are nothing special here.”
He slips his arms behind his back and stands staring down at you like a medieval lord. You hear another growl from under the mask of the man in front of you. His hands continually ball into fists and relax.
“You see,” He continues at a patronizingly slow speed. “In your world, you’re something special. You’re powerful, or at least seen as powerful. You parade around telling everyone how perfect you are while you do nothing to earn your position. You exist to hold down others, because making them feel weak makes you feel strong. When you can’t simply push them aside and treat them with the contempt that you think they deserve after you’ve taken everything from them...”
“When you can’t use them until there’s nothing left...”
He says “use” with a snarl. It makes your blood run cold.
What does he know?
“You toss them aside like trash.”
He clearly detests you and you don’t know why.
It terrifies you.
“Guess what?”
The distorted hiss from the mask catches you completely off guard.
“It’s time.”
The young man in the suit reaches down and pulls his sunglasses up from his shirt. He breathes on them, cleans them and slips them over his eyes with a smile.
“Indeed it is, my friend.”
He taps his apparent partner on the shoulder again as he looks at you once again.
“Night, night.”
His tone is eerily cheerful.
Night night?
At which point the world momentarily explodes in bright lights.
Night, night.
That voice. This is the first time you’ve heard it and you already hate it.
“If you’d not anger my cohort.”
Who the hell uses the term “cohort”? This isn’t the Roman Empire. It’s not like his voice wasn’t irritating enough.
You feel your mouth try to constrict as you attempt to clench your jaw, but all you feel is a sharp pain as the gag forces it to stay where it is.
And that’s before the brute in the mask tightens his grip on your head.
“That angered him.” He intones snidely, clearly pleased by the actions of his partner. “I did ask you politely not to do that.”
Like hell.
“You do realize that you are not in a position to be recalcitrant.”
That damned voice. Or more specifically the tone. It’s the tone that your parents took with you when you misbehaved, or the tone that someone took with you when they were trying to convince you of how worthless you are.
You jerk forward angrily but are quickly brought up short when you suddenly feel a painful pressure on the top of your head.
“I told you to behave.”
He leans forward slightly, not enough to step into the light and reveal himself, but enough so that you can clearly see the seriousness in his eyes.
“I’d like to be more charitable with you.”
A chair pun? Really?
“But you’re quickly leaving me without a leg to stand on”.
Damn it. You’re strapped to a chair in a dark...somewhere with a masked lunatic holding you down by your hair and this idiot is trying out his comedic chops?! What the hell did you do to deserve this?
“I bet you’re asking what you did to deserve this.” He says, almost as if he read your mind. “I’ll get to that.”
He lays in two quick slaps on the shoulder of the masked man, who he releases you so abruptly that his foot stomping down on the bar between the chair legs is the only thing that keeps you from falling over. The man in the suit smiles.
“You really should thank him for not letting you fall over.”
Thank him? How the hell can you thank a man when you can’t talk?
“No?” He responds somewhat thoughtfully. “That’s typical of people like you.”
What?
“Let me assure you that you are nothing special here.”
He slips his arms behind his back and stands staring down at you like a medieval lord. You hear another growl from under the mask of the man in front of you. His hands continually ball into fists and relax.
“You see,” He continues at a patronizingly slow speed. “In your world, you’re something special. You’re powerful, or at least seen as powerful. You parade around telling everyone how perfect you are while you do nothing to earn your position. You exist to hold down others, because making them feel weak makes you feel strong. When you can’t simply push them aside and treat them with the contempt that you think they deserve after you’ve taken everything from them...”
“When you can’t use them until there’s nothing left...”
He says “use” with a snarl. It makes your blood run cold.
What does he know?
“You toss them aside like trash.”
He clearly detests you and you don’t know why.
It terrifies you.
“Guess what?”
The distorted hiss from the mask catches you completely off guard.
“It’s time.”
The young man in the suit reaches down and pulls his sunglasses up from his shirt. He breathes on them, cleans them and slips them over his eyes with a smile.
“Indeed it is, my friend.”
He taps his apparent partner on the shoulder again as he looks at you once again.
“Night, night.”
His tone is eerily cheerful.
Night night?
At which point the world momentarily explodes in bright lights.
Night, night.