Chapter two.
Death or Mercy?
The knife slides in and he screams, veins protrude from his temple and he breaths in and out heavily, trying not to lose conciousness. All of his blood rushes to his head. The bright red filling his entire face and pumping his veins to the point of explosion. This is the third time the knife has entered his body, the blade is so sharp that it slips into him with no resistance. As it slides out again, little droplets of blood fall to the floor. His breathing becomes heavier and it fills to room as his pulse vibrates and thumps in his head. He catches his breath before straining to lift his head. Through blurred eyes, filled with pain, he can see the figure before him now. Dressed head to toe in black and with a baseball cap and scarf covering the face. He can not make out any features. The voice torturing him is nothing more than a whisper, it betrays nothing of the person who hates him with so much venom.
The figure moves closer, the footsteps are light and slow but to him they are deafening. He feels the warm breath on his face as the whispers continue, the voice low and short of empathy,
"Breath through the pain Mikey. Remember pain is only temporary. Soon it will all be pleasure. I promise you it won't hurt at all. I'm gentle and you will enjoy it soon enough." The words hit home and he realises why he is there. His eyes widen and he tries to speak but suddenly he is falling. He has been untied and he crashes to the floor where everything goes dark.
The sound of something being dragged across the damp, concrete floor wakes him briefly. He opens his eyes and blood fills his socket, he closes it tight again and tries against all odds to stop the pounding in his head, he knows that he needs to concentrate in order to gain an advantage over his capturer. However he can not move. His hands are tied behind him and his legs are bound together tightly around his ankles. His is helpless in his tormentors grasp, he hears the dragging noise again and shuffles onto his back, moving slightly to his left he manages to shift the blood pool from his eyes and open them a slit. The figure is just visible through his blinks and the darkness of the room, which is only lit by a tiny lamp in one corner. It does not cast much of a shadow. The figure is moving a small table into the centre of the room, right in front of where he is laying. On the table he can just make out a small laptop, the screen comes on and sheds a tiny bit more light on his surroundings. He can see that he is in a sort of cellar, it is small and there are leaks everywhere, he can hear the rhythmic sound of the drips seeping through the cracks, the rain outside smashes against the tiny, dirty window. It is dark outside but he has no idea of the time.
Finally the noise stops as the table is in place. The figure walks with speed towards him and grabs him heavy by his bound ankles. Dragging him across the cold, rough floor, Mikey screams in pain as the wet floor rips into his bare back. The dragging stops and the figure throws his feet back against the ground and moves towards the laptop. Mikey shuffles around so that he can see what is happening. The laptop boots into action and a red light on the screen tells him that he is being recorded. Then the voice, a slow and distorted tone fills the room. Not coming from the figure but from a phone placed by the laptop,
"Mikey, you are before us now to answer for your crimes, In a few moments your sentence will be decided by the people of the world. They have had access to your profile and have decided your fate. You will not have the chance to give a defence as we have all the information we require. We already know of your guilt, therefore all that is left to do, is decide your punishment. I will now open the vote to the public. Let us see how you shall pay."
The laptop screen changes and he can see himself in a small screen in the corner. He moves a little closer and his eyes widen as he sees the voting columns. One reads "Death" while the other reads "Mercy."
It takes a moment to sink in before he begins to plead. Begging the people voting to forgive him, begging them for mercy.
His pleads come to nothing as the clock ticks down, within five minutes the people have voted, the website shuts down and disappears. All that is left on the screen is his sentence, flashing before him.
DEATH.
