Wednesday, April 15, 2015

WP 001 - Braineater

Every day, I go to "new" page of (I apologize in advance if you were previously unaware of Reddit) where I select the latest prompt - whatever it is - and write it out.  I've decided to post those here.  Hope you enjoy it.  Today's Story is:

The room is small. I hate being in here. I'm not claustrophobic or anything. I just hate the smell of the place. One large two-way mirror in the wall by the door. The room on the other side is empty. No one really likes what I do. Even Detective Benson despises me.

A single light hangs down from the ceiling, over the desk. The man on the other side of the desk looks clean-cut, all-american if he wasn't in the orange jumpsuit. He's smirking. I almost feel sorry for him; but my stomach gurgles. I'm really hungry.

We step into the room and I stand by the door. Detective Benson just stares at the man. Then she walks over the to camera and unplugs it.

"What's this going to be," the man says, "good cop - bad cop?"

"No," she sits down across the table from the man. "My name is Detective Benson." She motions to me. "His name is D. Jason Wright. Have you heard of him?"


She sighs, "that's too bad. This usually goes better for you assholes if you know what you're facing. Well, let me tell you what's going on."

He smiles. She ignores him. "You have kidnapped a man named Abby Lee - sometimes goes by "Ratso." We know this because you've told us you have him. You came here with some kind of twisted agenda and a deadline, because you think this is some kind of fucking movie, and you're some kind of super villain. You are not."

He snorts in derision.

"He is a super villain." She motions to me again. "You probably didn't recognize the name because it's not often published. The newspapers call him Braineater."

He swallows hard and stares at me, his eyes are wide. I can smell the fear in him almost immediately. Dammit!

"You've heard of him," she says, "good. I think that means you're going to cooperate with us. You see, me? I'm morally opposed to what he does. It disgusts me on a physical, a spiritual, an emotional level; but with the Henderson act he got a pardon, and the State decided to put him to work.

"Thankfully, I figured out how to convince you assholes we're serious, so I don't have to sit here and watch him open your head and get the-"

"It's a barn on County Road 319. There's a key under a white rock behind the rose-bush just left of the door. He's tied to a wooden post in the back of the barn. The bomb is on a simple timer. My cellphone has a countdown timer app running on it. Plenty of time to save him. If you don't know how to disable the bomb, cut the white wire. I'm willing to confess to everything, please - call the D.A. in here and I'll sign anything you want."

"Damnit." I mutter under my breath. Benson smirks and gives me a nod letting me know I can leave. She's too good. I should never have agreed to this.

I'm so hungry.

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