Bind - March 06, 2012

[note: this was written during a writing exercise: we had 20 minutes to write something inspired by the word "bind". This is the result, unedited, exactly as it appeared when time ran out. You can read all of them in the waves category]

Bind- Squiddy Geiger - March 06, 2012

Stewart sighed, having given up the struggle as futile. The ropes were tight, and it seems they'd been tied in such a way as to become tighter if he struggled. The pain was still tolerable, but he knew if they got any tighter, he'd be in serious trouble. He sat quietly, waiting for the next phase to begin. Whatever it was, he hoped it would bring relief to his aching wrists and ankles, but he doubted it.

He couldn't see his watch, behind his back, so his estimate of five or six hours here would have to do. The room had no windows, just the bare light in the middle of the ceiling, no shade or cover to diffuse the harsh glare. The rough cement walls, cold in the stark illumination, offered no clue to where he was or if anyone else was around; there was no sound beyond his breathing and the steady drip from the ceiling in the corner behind him, the black plastic bucket nearly full.

After another half hour or so, he started to laugh bitterly. It was his own fault he was here. If he'd just done as Wallace had instructed, if he had not crossed him, he would not be in this bind now. It would have been easy, just take the package from A to B, and get paid. But no, he couldn't do that. He had to be snoopy, see what was in it. When he'd delivered the package, the recipient had seen that it was not properly sealed, and had pulled a gun. Stewart had no choice, he defended himself. His bad luck that Wallace's wife was in the next room, right where that second bullet ripped through the wall.

He sighed again. He had run, but somehow they'd tracked him down. Wallace's wife had survived, he was told, but Wallace might kill him for it. The man he'd killed, Wallace would probably understand that - it was self defence, but put his wife in hospital? He heard a noise, someone was coming. Whatever was in store for him, he was about to find out. Life, as he'd long known, was a bitch. The door would open, and fate would come find him.

Posted by Squiddy at March 6, 2012 08:45 PM | TrackBack