Nov 19, 2013
Hostage - John and Xara
Thick plastic zip ties bound John’s hands behind his back. He kept shifting to adjust the pressure on his wrists. He’d already lost a leg. Last thing he wanted to do was lose his hands. Not that anyone would want that. It was cold in the warehouse or wherever the hell he was. He could see his breath, and his teeth rattled every now and then when a good chill hit. And to add insult to injury—he needed to pee.
“Hey!” He shouted, hoping to get the guard’s attention. “I need to go to the bathroom! Any chance of one of you assholes taking me for walkies?”