Raymond's POV
The ropes are tight on my wrists, squeezing the veins and stopping the blood flow. My sense of sight is blocked by a rough piece of cloth and I can barely breathe due to the sock in my mouth. Drool drips down my chin every time I try to swallow. How did I get here? Why am I here? I feel the wooden chair beneath me and the chipped arm rests in which my hands are tied too. Strong footsteps are heard coming down a stair case. They seem to be coming from my left side so I cautiously turn my head towards the sound. While they make their way down the stairs I hear a screeching sound scratching the railing. The person is probably holding something sharp and they are dragging it down the stairs. My beating heart and the clanking metal from the railings are the only sound in the room. What is going to happen? Dear God in Heaven if you hear me. The footsteps reach the landing and then stop. Please God, Please God.
I hear the feet slowly walk towards my chair until they stop right in front of me. Please God let me live through this. Please God. I feel hands behind my head untying the labyrinth of knots. The fabric falls in my lap and my eyes squint in the bright florescent light. My pupils slowly grow accustomed to the new scenery. I am sitting in an unfinished basement with furniture that is covered with white table cloths. Someone wearing a black ski mask stands in front of me, their height looming over me like a building. "Raymond" the person barks as spit splashes on my face. "It is time to pay the price". What are they saying? Pay what price? "You will be the first one first kill". The moment those words are out of their mouth my heart speeds up abnormally. The person lifts up a kitchen knife, "This is going to hurt", and then slices the blade into my wrist. Kneading through the bone and yanking off the flesh. My screams cannot be heard because of the sock but tears start to stream down my face. The pain is unbearable. Please God , Please God. My tied arms struggle against the chair rest and my head moves from side to side. Liquid crimson sprawls along the floor beside my limp fallen hand.
The knife is once again raised and cuts through my other hand. My sobbing screams only makes the sock go deeper into my mouth. The pain, oh the pain. I now sit immobilized, unmoving, with no hands. Blood surrounds every part of my vision, staining my shirt and shoes. The masked man/woman starts to wipe the access blood off their knife and onto their fingertips. Please God if you hear me, please God. "Blood used to symbolize life, purity, strength, but in our strange society today it only represents weakness, mutilation and death. Your death" the person lifts up their mask and I gasp. It can't be. How? The sock is pulled out of my mouth and I gasp for fresh air. "You" I scream out. "You, How? Why?". "Oh Raymond, next time, keep your hands to yourself" I look down at my fallen hands, in a pool of my own blood. My captor then plunges the knife into my stomach, sliding it up to my rib cage and shattering the breast bone. I choke out a few more screams but I am so lost in the pain. This is death. This is the end. Please God, Please God.