“The chains seem a little much,” I observed pulling at them. They weren’t the standard issue, stainless steel shackles one might expect: Medieval iron chains wrapped my arms, legs, and torso to the chair, pressing me down with their weight. “But you use the lighting well. I can’t see you. Very ominous,” I approved.
“Who are you?” the man from the shadows asked.
“I’m Joe,” I said. “And you are?”
“My name is Octavius.”
“Large family?” I asked. He growled and was silent. I sat there, not much choice, tapping my fingers on the armrest. “So . . ?” I inquired. “Is there any reason for this?”
“Who are you?”
“I told you, I’m J—”
“Who are you?” he shouted.
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Now, now, now, if we can’t be polite with each other we’re never going to get anywhere. My name is Joe, Joseph Calumny, Joseph Edward Calumny, and I would like to know who you are, Mr. Octavius, who you are and why you’ve tied me up in this chair.”
“You’re here,” he spat, “because we know who you are.”
“Then why keep asking me?” I said, smiling.
“An abomination,” he continued.
“That bad?”
“A blight upon the world.”
“You’re gonna hurt my feelings, mister.”
“We’ll do more than that if you don’t confess.”
Sighing, I flexed, snapping the iron bands from my arms. Tearing the chains from my chest, I laughed, “I doubt it.” I could just make out Octavius’s form in the shadows. Jumping towards him, I grabbed him by the neck.
“Tell me,” I said, “Who am I?” He let out an unintelligible guttural noise as I lifted him from the ground. “Wrong answer.” Throwing him over my shoulder, I ran toward the nearest wall. Guns fired as I broke through the concrete into the light.
Tale Told 