A Captive Audience, Case 001. - Ryan Harris

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  1. The lights swing overhead slowly, fizzling a few times here and there in the dark, dank, underground. The room's tiled, the grout in between the tiles appearing old, worn, brown, a few specks of red here and there. There's a drain right underneath the chair, and rails next to that, the two back legs of the chair sitting between them with some wheels. The whole room looks like it could have been some sort of prison or asylum shower at once point or another. Ryan's sitting in the chair on rails, a pipe above him dripping a steady stream of ice cold water onto his head, but he's not alone.

    There's a table on one side of the room, opposite of a door, Ryan's belongings spread out across it, his briefcase sitting wide open, papers disheveled and unorganized now. A man's hunched over them, going through the various things as he mutters about something or another. He appears to be dressed in a suit jacket, with a white undershirt and a tie, slacks and business shoes, with a revolver on the table next to one of his hands. Near the table is a TV stand, the one that would give grade schoolers joy to see in their classroom in the morning, with a wireless keyboard underneath it on the middle rack, a little green light happily declaring that it's powered and connected.

    Ryan's bound to his chair, a pair of handcuffs intertwined with the chair's backing poles keeping his arms back, with para-cord tying his feet to the chair as well, he's dressed as he was last night, the water being the only thing making him worse for wear at the moment, however, his day was about to get much, much worse. The man straightens up from the table, grabbing the revolver and walking over to Ryan. He smiles wickedly, much larger than a human should or maybe could, before the butt of the revolver comes swinging across Ryan's right temple.

    "Wake up Ryan! We may have forever, but I'm a impatient man."
  2. A sudden crack followed by a stab of pain brought Ryan from his dark, dreamless slumber. His eyes flickered, the light in the room feeling too bright, like the morning sun that interrupted a restful sleep. The man screaming at him was an alarm clock, without a snooze button. Neither of these really helped with the splitting headache and the turned stomach feeling he now had. His memories were fuzzy, the previous night's events a mystery. Where was he?

    Eyes now open, he could see the room and man that had screamed at him. The room was old and dirty, having few pieces of furniture, the chair he sat on and a table to be exact. A table with his possessions on. In front of him a man with a gun in hand stood, looking at him with a sickening grin, clothed in much the same attire as himself. A suit, as was the accepted wardrobe of a lawyer.

    Ryan could feel wetness against his temple, the origin of his headache, but as he reached up to check what it was, he was met by restraints. The cold steel of cuffs, and against his legs some kind of heavy rope.

    "Who are you? What do you want?" He barked, throat dry, feeling as if it was grated.
  3. "What do I want? Well that's a interesting question for sure, do you know I actually want anything? All I've done is rant and smack you, for all you know I'm just a random madman, which I am." He'd grin, giving Ryan a congratulatory type smack on the shoulder as he moves off, towards the table as he says "Ryan Charles Harris, divorced, previously married to a Miranda Harris. Though that's not her name anymore, did you know that? She ran off and got married again, had kids this time." He grabs hold of the TV tray, sliding it quickly across the floor to Ryan, no way to stop it as it goes crashing into his legs, the keyboard and TV not falling off of it as the tray drifts away afterwards. "That's not what this is about though, that's not why we're here, we're here, because you want to be here."

    He'd take a moment, walking over to the TV set up, and starting to slide it in a much more controlled manner to Ryan. He'd start checking over the basics of it, following the extension chord back to the wall for a moment, smiling as he sees it remained plugged in, before coming back to the front of it as he says "Ryan, have you ever wondered what it's like to be God? To look down on all the ants scurrying about, able to do whatever you damned well please? Of course you have. How about this then," He'd flick on the TV, two screens vertically aligned taking up the screen space with a gentle static buzz to the soundtrack right now. The scenes on the TV is more interesting though.

    On one side of the TV, dangles a man right above what appears to be some rebar, the tip filed down into a point. The red running down his arms starting at the cuffs would be more than enough evidence he's been there for quite some time, his head hanging, with his eyes open, searching about occasionally, weak, pitiful worms and struggles against the cuffs the only movements he can actually manage. At the top of the chord that's holding his cuffs up is a green light, some sort of pulley system rigged up to it. In the other screen, is a room that looks almost exactly alike to the one their in right now, five people in it, of various genders, ages, and even races, it would seem he prides himself on having a mixed sample pool. There appears to be one addition to this room however, a few of those emergency water spraying heads that they use in so many places these days to give a sense of security in case of fire. There's a red light in this room, as two people of the group continue to try and be searching for some sort of way out or clue.

    "You have a dilemma here Ryan. If you kill one of these groups, the other lives, but neither die in a pretty fashion. That rebar won't stab right through anything vital, it'll run through him, and then he'll bleed to death in distinct agony for a long time. On the other hand, those little sprayers are set up to spray hydrochloric acid into the room, and that stuff doesn't burn as fast as in the movies. They'll all burn alive for a time as their skin melts, so you have a choice. Red or Green Ryan. You have two minutes."
  4. The dull ache made it difficult to think. This man. Was he even a man? He listened as part of his life was recited to him. Listened with a bitter twang at the news about his ex-wife. He had known about the new husband. News around certain circles traveled at the speed of light. He hadn’t known about the children though. That was something he was never able to give her. He was always too busy. Always had another case to work on. He supposed that was one of the reasons she had left.

    He was thrown back to reality by the sudden pain that shot through his legs. "Who'd want to be here?!" he raged through clenched teeth at the madman. The man continued to talk on though. Asking rhetorical questions about being God. God was a concept Ryan had abandoned. Working with murderers and criminals of all kind, even seeing corrupt criminals had made him skeptical. The current situation wasn't making it much easier to believe. He watched as the television that had smashed into his legs, now standing in front of him, flickered to life. It showed two rooms. One with many people and the other with only one. Static echoed through the room.

    He looked towards the man, who explained the situation. The smile never once fading from his lips whilst Ryan's own face changed from pain to disbelief to disgust. "You can't be serious!" he said incredulously, looking back at the screen. At the man hanging hopelessly and the people who were searching for a way out. Something in the man's voice and the way he had behaved told Ryan it wasn't a joke though. This man was a few stories short of a skyscraper. A minute had passed by now.

    Ryan did the only logical thing he could. "Save the Red," he shouted at his captor.
  5. "The red? Are you sure? You've kept the poor man hanging for at least three hours by now with your little nap, he must be in excruciating amounts of pain already. He's hanging there, without a clue what's going on, having already given up on-" He presses G on the keyboard, dropping the man hanging above the rebar right onto it. "-Whoopsies!" The man slides down quite far, arms kept above him. He'd slide all the way down to the point where the camera was almost not capturing him, as he gives a warbled scream of pain. He twitches and bucks, arms flailing usefully as blood slowly bubbles out both sides. "I did say it would be slow, that bar's keepin him from bleeding too much. The man in the suit takes a moment to inspect his handiwork, smiling as he says "Looks like it stabbed right through his balls, off to one side, and out a lung, impressive that he didn't pass out from the pain- oh, wait, that's my fault, I gave him enough stimulus in those drugs to keep a elephant up for a week straight."

    He'd move to behind Ryan, grasping his head in both hands and forcing him to look at the screen as the people in the red room see the door swing open, pushing out in droves, one poor fellow getting trampled, picking themselves up afterwards and limping out as he says "Watch, watch closely, you just killed a man, you're not going to just forget this moment on me, you have to watch this, this is your moment, this is what will define you for the rest of your life. This is the choice you made..." He grins widely, fingers gently stroking the sides of Ryan's face as he says "Story time Ryan. That man you just killed was a doctor that performed life saving operations. Those people you saved, three of them were convicted murderers, another a rapist, and another was your wife's new husband. I'm not going to tell you if he was among the one's who committed terrible crimes however, I'll leave that for you to imagine."

    The man would continue screaming in agony the whole while, screams starting to die down to a whimper as the two minute mark approaches from the moment the button was pressed. "Feels good, doesn't it? You just saved five people's lives, you're a hero! You played God and made the right decision, didn't you?" He smiles, giggling like a schoolgirl as the man finally stops making any noise, just occasionally twitching now as he says "I hope you're still feeling up to it, you've got more lives to save after all, mister hero."

    He'd wait until the man stopped twitching, before getting up and shoving the tray away, moving to grab the back of Ryan's chair, and start sliding it along the rails it's attached to towards the door.
  6. "You sick bastard!" Ryan shouted as the fellow slid down the metal spike, bringing forth a gut-wrenching scream. Ryan was sure he'd remember the sound the rest of his life, looking away to avoid being sick. His eyes might have found momentary reprieve, but thanks to the madman his ears did not. Apart from the scream he had to endure a commentary of the scene as well. When the scream started faltering to a gargle, most likely from the pierced lung, Ryan felt his head twisted to the screen.

    The man he had sentenced to death was almost off the screen, having slid so far down, whilst the people in the other room were escaping. They were stampeding out of the recently opened door, not caring for each others well being. Ryan listen in horror as the man told what these men were, what they've done. His face contorted in agony. He wouldn't make the same mistake and if he got loose...

    The man continued talking, as if nothing had happened, even having the gall to say Ryan was a hero. "I swear... I swear you're going to pay," he said through clenched teeth. Suddenly he felt himself being tilted back in his seat and being dragged. Ryan struggled against his restraints, felt the steel cut into his wrists. There was no more scream, only breathing and the squeak of the wheels on his chair.

    He looked over his shoulder at his captor. 'What awaits me...?'
  7. The transition from room to room wasn't painless, or pretty, as he was pushed through some doors that swung open relatively easily when well maintained, but seeing this place was already a dirty hellhole, why not let the doors be that way too. They groan in protest as the chair slides between them, before he's finally allowed a stop in the center of the next room. "What awaits you? Well that's a good question. You just killed a man, probably hell."

    He suddenly changes his face to a frown as he stands there, a curtain blocking whatever view awaits them behind it, before he suddenly gets a very angry look to his eyes and face. "I'm going to pay Ryan? I'm going to pay?" He jabs the barrel of the gun at Ryan's groin, roughly, tucking it between his legs as she says "Come on then! You first!" He'd angle the barrel down, sliding it back just enough that he wouldn't hit Ryan before firing through the chair, the muzzle flash likely singing his pants, the kick being just enough to slide it back into him for another groin shot.

    He smiles, spinning the gun on a finger afterwards as if he was some sharp shooting cowboy. He'd walk over to the curtain, before saying "Alright mister bachelor, are you ready to see what lies behind curtain number one?" He's assumed the de facto gameshow host voice, almost comically mimicking it, right down to the wacky smile.
  8. He hardly felt the rough treatment as he was transported to another room. A numb feeling had begun to surface, the fact that he was a murderer sinking in. He had made the choice anyone would have, he told himself over and over. Suddenly he was stopped. He was facing a curtain that might've been red once in its life, but now a filthy maroon. The man started at him. Shouting at him and then pointed his gun right at Ryan's crotch. It took a moment before he realized what was happening.

    Bang! The shot echoed through the building. Ryan's eyes screwed shut, expecting a pain that never came, feeling only the heat of the gunshot. Opening his eyes he saw the man twirling the firearm, his almost ever present smile mocking the lawyer. Ryan blew out his breath, he hadn't realized he was holding it in, and gulped fresh air. He knew he was shaking slightly as the man walked to the curtain and did his imitation of low budget game show and asking Ryan if he'd like to see what was behind the curtain.

    Ryan didn't answer though, choosing to keep silent and glare at the trigger happy maniac.
  9. "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, it appears we're having some technical difficulties speaking to our contestant, one moment please." He'd walk right back over to the laywer, head tilting off to the side slightly, before saying "Why'd you have to go and do that? Hm? Do you honestly think at this point you being quiet will stop me? Do you think that having me making these decisions is a better idea? I would have pushed both buttons back there to be perfectly honest."

    He'd spin the gun for a moment, before sighing, saying "I guess it can't be helped though, I guess I'll have to find a new contestant. What, one down, seven billion to go?" He spins open the cylinder of the revolver, looking at it, Ryan quite clearly able to see five other silver heads in the chambers before he spins it, snapping it shut and pulling back the hammer as he says "Let's see, you have a one in six chance of not getting shot, not great odds Ryan, not great odds, you're bad at gambling, aren't you?" He takes some time to reach out to Ryan's right ear, placing the barrel right next to it, and folding Ryan's ear right over it, the barrel poised to sling lead through his ear and into the wall behind him.

    "Still not playing?"
  10. Ryan could see the man's face fall slightly as the silence grew longer, before he continued his host impersonation. The gun was twirled and the bullet cylinder snapped open, revealing five separate glints instead of the optimum six. Ryan glanced quickly between his own legs at the round hole in the seat. He heard the mechanical spin of the cylinder and the two clicks as it was shut and the gun was cocked. Next came the cold press off the barrel against his ear.

    'One in six,' he thought to himself, 'One in six was less than twenty percent. Then again these days I won't take the chance even if it was in my favor.' He swallowed the lump in his throat before saying, barely audible, "What's behind the curtain?"
  11. The man smiles, pulling the trigger anyway, giving a click as he says "Poor poor Ryan, you must be loved by the Casino's." He laughs a little bit as he walks back to the curtian, pulling it away, to reveal a similar situation to the one Ryan just saw, except this time only seperated by a plate of glass, a button in the center embedded into the walls between the two. He motions to the first chamber, which has one person in it with what would be a bed of nails, if it wasn't hanging above them attached to a piston. They're strapped to a table, staring right up with a IV in one arm.

    The second chamber has a few people sitting in it, about three, with a glass window mechanism separating them from some food. Meatloaf, potatoes, a salad, and even a cake sit behind the glass, the three occupants looking a little bit gaunt in there, one of them pitifully pawing at the glass window as he continues in the game host voice. "If you condemn this man to death, these three will have access to the food, they've been starved for around four days now, with plenty of water though. Easy choice, right? You have three minutes."

    ((OOC: Sorry, my alerts on this were bugged.))
  12. Ryan flinched at the click of the gun's hammer, but no bang followed. His heart and breath raced equally. Luck wasn't a Lady to him. Ever. The current situation being testament to that. He looked blankly in front of him as his tormentor pulled the heavy, stained fabric aside to reveal the people separated by a glass wall. The one pinned to a table with spikes hanging menacingly above him and the other side had three starving people in. 'So close yet so far,' he thought seeing the food that was being held feet away from them. Ryan steeled himself as he listened to the choice given to him this time.

    "What is their story? Are they criminals as well?" He asked, meeting the man's eyes. "Any life-saving people or life-takers?"
  13. The man frowns before saying "That'd be cheating Ryan, make your decision... You have... Two minutes." He taps on the glass of the singular one, saying "Better think quick, one minute and thirty seconds." The man on the table looks over, eyes widening in horror and looking to the two people, the glass obviously not just one way or something. He bucks and squirms at the restraints, leather clasps straining as he bucks on the bed. The man in the suit smiles, waving to him as he says "Come on, you don't get to know who's who in there."

    "Choose, Ryan."
  14. "You said I was to play God!" Ryan spat. "I'm sure God knows who's in there, so I'm allowed as well!"

    Little less then a minute, he counted. His eyes trying to avoid the struggling man laying beneath the spiked death trap. He hadn't expected the man to deny him the request. What point was there in this whole game anyway? Was he just going to be a victim like all these others in the end? These and many more thoughts crossed his mind. Sweat had started to bead on his forehead and upper lip. One such bead had made its way into his eye with a salty sting.
  15. "I didn't say you were god, I said you were playing God. I didn't say you were God."

    He makes a dramatic gesture of pulling back his sleeve, staring at his watch as he says "Thirty seconds." He taps out the time on the watch screen, before saying "Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Better hurry it up Ryan, Five..." He continues counting down, waiting for a response. The man on the table thrashes at his restraints, trying to free himself now, the leather chafing and tearing at his arms.
  16. "Give them their food!" Ryan shouted, his own voice ringing in his ears. The spikes would at least be a fast death he thought, since the multiple points of stabbing would pierce vital organs. The countdown had made things worse. He knew this mad man would likely continue making him kill innocents. He knew that this mad man would continue tearing at his soul until he was finally dead. He knew this and with scorn in his eyes looked at the Captor and then at the victim on the table. His last attempt was to mouth a sorry while looking at the man's frightened eyes.
  17. He wouldn't have the time to start mouthing the 'sorry', the man swinging his fist into the button, dropping the nails immediately. At least Ryan was right about it being quick, that or he wasn't able to twitch with all the nails holding him down. He gives a blank stare towards the room with the two in it as the glass door slides open. The three in the room struggle to their feet, setting into the food.

    "Good job Ryan, you fed the poor starving people." They'd be eating for quite a time, before starting to slow down, their movements starting to become sluggish as the man continues, saying "However, you still chose wrong..."
  18. "However, you still chose wrong..."

    Ryan watched the people scarf down the food, barely waiting for their mouths to be empty before shoveling the next handful in. The movements started to slow gradually, the food not nearly finished. He gave a hard tug with his bound hands, feeling the flesh bulge round the edges of the cuffs as they sank into his wrists.

    "You poisoned them," he gasped, eyes flitting from each prisoner and back to the Man for confirmation. "I chose for him to die! They should live!"
  19. The man smiles, before saying "You chose to let them eat, you didn't choose to let them live. You chose to feed them, nothing more, nothing less." He gives a wide sweeping motion as he says "This is what you have done, four more deaths on your head." He smiles, tapping on the glass as one of them starts to cough up blood, the others slowing down at watching him, movements sluggish, slowing down as the other one continues to cough.

    The one next to the coughing one drops to the floor, not moving afterwards, the other one sluggishly shaking at the other. He continues to push against him, before slumping over himself, the coughing one giving a pathetic gurgle before slumping over himself. The man claps slowly, saying "Bravo, bravo Ryan, you didn't really ask any questions, just putting it out there, only who they were. Not even I knew that, I just abducted these ones."
  20. Ryan clenched his teeth, not knowing what to say, but feeling the bitter in his heart growing towards the evil that stood in front of him. Even the few men that he had prosecuted over the years, those that he had convicted, weren't as cruel, as totally devoid of morals or sympathy. Finally something had snapped inside of Ryan. He swore to himself that he would kill this man, upon all the others that have died, he would drive this man's face into a wall.

    Ryan started to heavily tug and kick, rattling the chair he sat upon. He shouted and screamed incoherently at his tormentor, not caring that his wrist and ankles were being gnawed raw by their restraints. Suddenly with a loud metal clang the chair dislodged from its rail, causing him to keel over and fall with a dull thud onto the cold floor.
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