It was dark, and my head was pounding. I tried to remember something-anything- but nothing came in the mist. I started to remember something-A name, date, or something important- but it was whisked away when I felt a cold blade pressed to my neck, ready to draw blood. “Give me every reason why I shouldn’t do to you what you did to them, and you may live.”
A smile pulled itself across my face, but I did not dare to move. I began to take inventory. The room itself was not dark, but there is something covering my eyes. A blindfold. My hands were bound, but I wasn't worried about that. The voice was clearly masculine, with a soft English accent, like mine. But, what did I do to deserve a blade roosting under my chin? This wouldn't be the first time I did something that bad.
"Who are 'they'?"
"You mean who were they. Don't act like you don't know, Bartholomew Windlass." The man said the name as if it were curse.
"So, that's my name."
"Dont play dumb, you murderous-"
"Ooh, murder! This just keeps getting better and better!" I said in a fake cheery voice.
He pressed his blade harder, barely breaking the skin. I winced.
"What do you want anyway?" I asked, attempting to work at the knots that bound my hands behind me.
"Justice. For my friends who's lives were cut short by your horrific actions."
"So it's just you left? How come I didn't get to you?" I undid the first knot. If you can't already tell, this isn't my first rodeo.
"I hid. When the gunshots stopped, and my friends lined the hallway, I came out and hit you from behind. Dragged you in here, tied you up." The second knot slipped out nicely.
"Did it not occur to you, that you should call authoritys?" I undid the last knot, and waited.
"Athorities wouldn't let me do this," he took the blade away from my neck, and I suspected he swung it back, similar to a baseball bat. That's when I ripped off the cloth blindfold, and grabbed his arm. Taking the knife with my other hand, I held tight, as he tried to wrestle free from my grip.
With his free hand, he grabbed the back of the collar of my plum purple button-up shirt. The man attempted to pull me back from his arm, but to no avail.
Still holding his arm and his knife to his throat, I grunted, and struggled to stay on him. He was heavier than I was, and a bit taller.
Suddenly, my hand slipped, and I let go of his arm. He knocked my in the jaw, and again on the side of the head. I felt my nose drip blood. He was about to strike again, but I grabbed his fist with both of my hands, dropping the knife. He let go of my shirt, and I shot around to his back, pulling his arm with me. I kicked his back, sending him to the concrete floor with a loud thud. He didn't get back up.
I simpily rubbed my eyes, and walked over to the other side of the room, next to the door, to retrieve my things. I put both pistols back in their hip holsters, adjusted my back suspenders and bow tie, put my grey beanie hat on, and picked my my black framed glasses. I looked at them for a moment seeing the large red specks on the lenses. I tried to clean them, but it was already dry. I put them on, and without a word made my way out of the building. I opened the emergency exit door, to a rush of fresh midnight air. I was going to find out why I was there, and nothing could stop me.
these are great prompts! Here's a rough draft, using prompt #4. Thus has not been edited, or revised. I literally just puked this out as I went. Enjoy!