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Fear and Panic

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“What the heck is going on?” The words swirled in my head. All I could smell was the distinct odor of gasoline. Where was it coming from? Why can’t I see? I finally realized where the smell was coming from, it was me. Beside me came a deep raspy voice.

“I think he woke up.” There was a second voice, very serious yet young sounding

“Yea, he is, take it off.” In an instant there was a burst of light, blinding at that. My eyes squinted as everything came into focus. There was a young man with a scar running down from the top of his left eye to the bottom of his chin. His eyes seemed to be on fire. I glanced down and discovered I was strapped to a small wooden chair. It reminded me of an electric chair. The smell of gas became even more intense as more was poured on my head, my eyes watered from the stench.

“Where am I?!”I yelled. Suddenly the guy stopped pouring and came into view. He appeared to be older. He was wearing baggy jeans and a leather biker’s jacket

“Where am I? What’s going on?” I yelled again. The younger man spoke first


“Where is it?” He said calmly

“Where is what?” He slapped me across the face so hard I saw double vision for a second
“Don’t play stupid! Where is the tape! He was starting to get mad.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I cried

“Fine than have it your way.” He said as he pulled something out of his pocket. All I saw was a quick flash of silver than I heard it. The sound that made my heart sink. The smooth clink and the swift sound of striking flint. He pulled out a lighter, a Zippo to be correct.
“You got five seconds to tell me where it is before you burn. One”

“I, I don’t know!” I yelled

“Two.” All my training in the NYPD never prepared me for this.

“Three, you better start remembering.” He said surprisingly calm. My face was still red and burning from the slap.
“Four!” he yelled. His face had become red with rage. I was sweating from every pour in my body. Amnesia from a drug started to wear off, I began to remember vague flashes of an interrogation I gave to a scruffy looking guy. I kept the tape of the interrogation but I remember putting it in the evidence vault before I left to go home, from there its blank.
“Wait! The tape of the interrogation?”
“Ah. You’re starting to come around. Anyway yes, where is it?” A slight smile started to crack on his face.
“Well last I knew it was at the station.” I said with a bit of relief
“What room in the station?” Now he was completely serious again
“The evidence vault” I said. The last thing I saw, was him smile a very evil smile and say ‘thanks’. He then dropped the lighter at my feet and simply walked away.





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