A Prelude to this Playable: http://rdi.dragonsmark.com/forums/viewtopic.php"t=30689
The world inside a burlap sack is rather bland" especially when it is tied around your head, negating one of your most important of senses.
He watched in the darkness of the abandoned, boarded up shop as his captive trembled in the chair he was strapped naked to; gripping the arms of the wooden furniture as he rocked violently from side to side in a vain attempt to free himself of his bonds.
Crouched at the other side of the room with his elbows resting upon his knees, Cube chuckled to himself as the man continued to shout obscenities and pleas of desperation for someone to save him.
His voice however, would never be heard. Not with the audio-dampeners he had set up specifically to neutralize all soundwaves that so much as even touched the walls of the derelict room.
His captive had been shouting for a straight hour since the sedatives wore off.
"Oh, do shut up, will you? You're giving me a headache." Cube's modulated voice groaned.
"When I get out of this I am going to shove your balls so far down your throat—-what in the hell is that ticking sound"!"
"How very descriptive" are you a writer, per chance" I think you should start a career in the field" well" if, you manage to get out of this room alive, that is." Cube stood up, groaning as he stretched his arms above his masked head. "Well, I kind of hope you do. It'd ruin the plan if you didn't."
"What do you want' Money" I don't have much, but—"
Tutting, Cube approached the forcibly seated man, ticking an index finger side to side as if his blindfolded victim could actually see the motion. "Ah-ah-ah, now-now" money isn't really my thing. Do you know why we're here" Any clue" An inkling?"
"Because you're some sick, sadistic shithead" And where the fuck are my clothes, huh"! I bet you get a real kick out of this, don't you? And turn off that damn clock!"
"I'm more of a masochist than a sadist, to be honest with you," Cube retorted as he paced idly around the chair, his black gloved hands moving up to adjust his tinted biker goggles, "I don't find any kind of thrill bringing pain or humiliation unto others" but then again, I can't say I hate it, because you wouldn't be here now would you?"
"What the hell do you want, then" I haven't done anything to nobody."
"Not true. I heard you're seeing that pretty little elven girl that works at one of the stalls over in the marketplace, late at night' a private rendezvous, with such a pretty thing" all without the wife knowing."
The man in the chair became suddenly very quiet, his body tensing up.
"Ah?" Cube inclined his head towards the burlap sack. "You thought you were doing your dirty deeds without a single soul noticing, didn't you? Well you're wrong and, unfortunately for you? Your wife has some real nice Polaroid photos of you steam-boating your pointy-eared mistress against a wall not too far away from where you live."
"You" son of a bitch' you didn't!" The man's thrashing continued, with a rejuvenated vigour. "Who the hell are you, huh"! Some kind of private investigator or" or a..."
The words hitman did not leave his lips, but Cube surmised that was his next suggestion.
Standing behind him, Cube removed the hood from the balding man, his very evident gasp and scream of terror bringing an amused chuckle to spill through his mask. "Not quite."
The man yelled frantically. "What' w-what have you done to me"!"
"Just a minor surgical procedure. I apologize for the stitches—-I ain't too good at sewing people back up—-" Cube winced at the incessant screaming, his voice rising in volume to combat it, "but I thought you should know I put a good amount of TNT in there. That ticking sound is probably the clock attached to the triggering mechanism."
Tilting back his head to catch a glimpse of his masked kidnapper, the man shook his head frantically as tears streamed down his cheeks and piss formed upon the chair, screaming all the louder to be rescued by someone—-anyone"
Annoyed, Cube clamped a gloved palm across his mouth, muffling his screams. "You better listen to my instructions if you wish to live." He drew his face closer to his. "You do want to live, don't you?"
The man nodded, his screams suddenly ceasing.
"The timer started the moment you woke up. I have armed it remotely. You have exactly two hours to run over to the Governmental building where the current head of so-called state resides" well" I don't expect him to be there, but that isn't the point of the matter. It's just an office." Unclasping his hand from around the man's face, he wandered into his view from the front, hands grasped firmly behind his back. "Once there, the GPS tracker I have attached to the bomb will ping me of your arrival and, just like that, I will disarm the bomb remotely."
"Th-that's" it' Just' that?" The victim whimpered.
"Not quite," Cube shrugged, "you see, I kind of want to make a statement; not that I want to be found, because, well, that'd be very problematic, wouldn't it' I've made one minor entrance already but that didn't exactly go according to plan. I mean, it wasn't exactly' grandiose" it needed panache—some zing, you could say' blowing some up some poor drug addict's head off isn't what makes headlines these days. Such a shame, that."
"You" you're insane" completely?"
Cube straightened his posture, as if proud of the accusation. "We're all a little insane, my good man. It's just some of us are a little bit more" off the rocker, you might say' a little bat-shit crazy. But that's the beauty of this city' it makes monsters out of us all..." Clapping his hands, he turned to direct his featureless gaze upon him. "Part two of the game is a little bit more complex but let me boil it down for you so that your tiny brain can understand it. Ready' Ready—right' the bomb will be disarmed as promised, but only for a short time. You have five minutes, to get rid of it and to run like hell. Preferably throwing it in the direction of the office, mind you."
"G-get' rid of it?" He looked down at the x-like incision on the lower part of his abdomen. "H-how" how do I?"
"Ever played that game as a child, when you plunge your hands into a bucket full of polystyrene—or whatever the hell that white packaging stuff is, digging around in search for a prize?"
The man's mouth dropped.
"Same principal.?
The world inside a burlap sack is rather bland" especially when it is tied around your head, negating one of your most important of senses.
He watched in the darkness of the abandoned, boarded up shop as his captive trembled in the chair he was strapped naked to; gripping the arms of the wooden furniture as he rocked violently from side to side in a vain attempt to free himself of his bonds.
Crouched at the other side of the room with his elbows resting upon his knees, Cube chuckled to himself as the man continued to shout obscenities and pleas of desperation for someone to save him.
His voice however, would never be heard. Not with the audio-dampeners he had set up specifically to neutralize all soundwaves that so much as even touched the walls of the derelict room.
His captive had been shouting for a straight hour since the sedatives wore off.
"Oh, do shut up, will you? You're giving me a headache." Cube's modulated voice groaned.
"When I get out of this I am going to shove your balls so far down your throat—-what in the hell is that ticking sound"!"
"How very descriptive" are you a writer, per chance" I think you should start a career in the field" well" if, you manage to get out of this room alive, that is." Cube stood up, groaning as he stretched his arms above his masked head. "Well, I kind of hope you do. It'd ruin the plan if you didn't."
"What do you want' Money" I don't have much, but—"
Tutting, Cube approached the forcibly seated man, ticking an index finger side to side as if his blindfolded victim could actually see the motion. "Ah-ah-ah, now-now" money isn't really my thing. Do you know why we're here" Any clue" An inkling?"
"Because you're some sick, sadistic shithead" And where the fuck are my clothes, huh"! I bet you get a real kick out of this, don't you? And turn off that damn clock!"
"I'm more of a masochist than a sadist, to be honest with you," Cube retorted as he paced idly around the chair, his black gloved hands moving up to adjust his tinted biker goggles, "I don't find any kind of thrill bringing pain or humiliation unto others" but then again, I can't say I hate it, because you wouldn't be here now would you?"
"What the hell do you want, then" I haven't done anything to nobody."
"Not true. I heard you're seeing that pretty little elven girl that works at one of the stalls over in the marketplace, late at night' a private rendezvous, with such a pretty thing" all without the wife knowing."
The man in the chair became suddenly very quiet, his body tensing up.
"Ah?" Cube inclined his head towards the burlap sack. "You thought you were doing your dirty deeds without a single soul noticing, didn't you? Well you're wrong and, unfortunately for you? Your wife has some real nice Polaroid photos of you steam-boating your pointy-eared mistress against a wall not too far away from where you live."
"You" son of a bitch' you didn't!" The man's thrashing continued, with a rejuvenated vigour. "Who the hell are you, huh"! Some kind of private investigator or" or a..."
The words hitman did not leave his lips, but Cube surmised that was his next suggestion.
Standing behind him, Cube removed the hood from the balding man, his very evident gasp and scream of terror bringing an amused chuckle to spill through his mask. "Not quite."
The man yelled frantically. "What' w-what have you done to me"!"
"Just a minor surgical procedure. I apologize for the stitches—-I ain't too good at sewing people back up—-" Cube winced at the incessant screaming, his voice rising in volume to combat it, "but I thought you should know I put a good amount of TNT in there. That ticking sound is probably the clock attached to the triggering mechanism."
Tilting back his head to catch a glimpse of his masked kidnapper, the man shook his head frantically as tears streamed down his cheeks and piss formed upon the chair, screaming all the louder to be rescued by someone—-anyone"
Annoyed, Cube clamped a gloved palm across his mouth, muffling his screams. "You better listen to my instructions if you wish to live." He drew his face closer to his. "You do want to live, don't you?"
The man nodded, his screams suddenly ceasing.
"The timer started the moment you woke up. I have armed it remotely. You have exactly two hours to run over to the Governmental building where the current head of so-called state resides" well" I don't expect him to be there, but that isn't the point of the matter. It's just an office." Unclasping his hand from around the man's face, he wandered into his view from the front, hands grasped firmly behind his back. "Once there, the GPS tracker I have attached to the bomb will ping me of your arrival and, just like that, I will disarm the bomb remotely."
"Th-that's" it' Just' that?" The victim whimpered.
"Not quite," Cube shrugged, "you see, I kind of want to make a statement; not that I want to be found, because, well, that'd be very problematic, wouldn't it' I've made one minor entrance already but that didn't exactly go according to plan. I mean, it wasn't exactly' grandiose" it needed panache—some zing, you could say' blowing some up some poor drug addict's head off isn't what makes headlines these days. Such a shame, that."
"You" you're insane" completely?"
Cube straightened his posture, as if proud of the accusation. "We're all a little insane, my good man. It's just some of us are a little bit more" off the rocker, you might say' a little bat-shit crazy. But that's the beauty of this city' it makes monsters out of us all..." Clapping his hands, he turned to direct his featureless gaze upon him. "Part two of the game is a little bit more complex but let me boil it down for you so that your tiny brain can understand it. Ready' Ready—right' the bomb will be disarmed as promised, but only for a short time. You have five minutes, to get rid of it and to run like hell. Preferably throwing it in the direction of the office, mind you."
"G-get' rid of it?" He looked down at the x-like incision on the lower part of his abdomen. "H-how" how do I?"
"Ever played that game as a child, when you plunge your hands into a bucket full of polystyrene—or whatever the hell that white packaging stuff is, digging around in search for a prize?"
The man's mouth dropped.
"Same principal.?