“Tell us where the laptop is!”

Derek glowered at the man. “I don’t know!”

“Oh, oh, okay. So he doesn’t know.” Quinn shrugged. “Still want me to hurt him?” The gears switched. Tyrone appeared. “Yeah, you idiot! Do what I told you. Kill him if you have to!”

“I don’t know any bloody laptop!” Derek yelled.

Quinn reappeared. He approached Derek, who still sat tied in the chair. He leaned on the chair back and got into Derek’s face. “This laptop. It’s important. Where is it?”

“For the hundredth time, I don’t know.” Derek said. He was bloody, sweaty, and extremely tired and hurting.

“Can I play a game with him, Boss?” Quinn asked Tyrone. He chuckled. “Yessssss….” Quinn wound up and hit Derek. “Okay, okay, don’t worry Boss, I got this.” He threw his shoulders back and shook his hands out. “Listen, Derek. Buddy. Pal.”

Derek narrowed his eyes at his kidnapper.

“We’re going to play a little game. Either you’re going to tell us where the laptop is, or you’re going to be in a lot of hurt.”

“I’m already in a lot of hurt.” Derek muttered.
Another punch. Derek spit out blood. “Can I speak to your Boss?” He’d spent enough time in this dirty basement that he knew that his captor had multiple personalities.
Quinn gave a funny grin. Then he stood back, paced a moment, and then Tyrone appeared. “What?” he growled.
“I don’t know what laptop you’re talking about.” Derek explained calmly.
Tyrone scowled. He cracked his knuckles. “Idiot.” He snorted. He paced some more, and then Quinn returned.
“Gonna tell me?” Quinn asked.
“I can’t.” Derek said, tiredly. “Because I don’t know anything about this laptop!” His voice reached a crescendo.
“Right. And I don’t have Beth.” Quinn said sarcastically, gazing at Derek. A Mona Lisa played on his lips.
“What?”
“Your girlfriend. Beth.”
“If you hurt her, I swear I’m going to kick your sorry –” Derek squirmed angrily.
“Cut it out, Derek. I told you that I don’t have her.” Quinn rolled his eyes.
Derek gritted his teeth. “I don’t believe you.”
Quinn leaned into Derek’s face. “Just like I don’t believe that you don’t know about the laptop.” Derek lowered his eyes to the blood-stained concrete floor. Silence. “You ready to play my game? Because I’m excited to play.”
“If I don’t play?”
“If you don’t play,” Quinn leaned close to Derek’s ear. “Your girlfriend doesn’t stand a chance.”
Derek closed his eyes. Then, defeated, he nodded subtly.
“Great!” Quinn clapped his hands together. “Rules: you have three minutes. One wrong guess means the noose gets knotted and closed tighter.”
Derek looked up, alarmed. “Noose? What noose?”
“If you can’t guess correctly within three minutes, you lose.” Quinn stepped back and paced, muttering incoherently to Tyrone.
Derek tried interjecting, to ask a question. But Quinn or Tyrone weren’t paying attention. Finally, Derek yelled, “What are we playing?!”
Quinn stopped in his tracks. He took a few steps forward. He smiled. Laughed. “My favorite game, Derek.”
Derek stared.
“We’re playing Hangman.”
“Hangman?” Derek asked incredulously.
“Yeah.”
Derek took a moment to think. “And if I play this, Beth will be unharmed?”
Quinn laughed. “Dear, dear Derek.” He leaned close. “You have to play to find out.”
He walked over to a canvas that covered something. He flipped it back. There was a small flat screen TV sitting there. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t even know –”

Quinn moved to Derek. Took out a knife, and sliced the duct tape loose from Derek. “Gotta keep those. Sorry.” He motioned with his head the cuffs that were on Derek’s wrists.

Derek slowly stood, pulling off the tape. He looked weak and unsure.

“But uh…” Quinn moved toward the TV. “Don’t try anything, okay?” He turned the TV on. He pointed to a microphone set up by the TV.

On the screen was Beth. She stood, her arms bound to her side by tape, her ankles severely wrapped in tape, on a raised platform. Tape was on her mouth. Beside her stood a hooded man, holding rope that was attached to an overhead beam.

“Beth!” Derek screamed. He ran to the TV.

Someone behind the live-feed camera said, “We’re live.” The executor ripped the duct tape off of Beth’s mouth.
As soon as it was off, she yelled, “Derek!” Then she began to cry.
Quinn set a countdown clock beside the TV. It read three minutes. “When I start this, you have three minutes.”
Derek spun to Quinn. “What am I supposed to do?” He yelled. His eyes darted quickly back to Beth. She was sobbing. “Beth, hold on!” He yelled at the TV.
“She can’t hear you.” Quinn said indifferently.
“What am I supposed to do?!” Derek asked again.
“It’s Hangman, Derek.” Quinn had an ugly smile on his face. “We’re going to figure out whether or not you really know about this laptop. Enter the password –” he pointed to the TV. “or your girlfriend will die!”
Derek looked back to the TV. In a corner, another live feed was happening. It was of chalk lines, drawn like a typical Hangman game is. The word had ten spaces. “But…I don’t know what laptop you’re talking about…”
Now he knew the catch. Enter the password before time runs out, or watch Beth die.
“Three minutes.” Quinn pressed a button on the digital clock, and it began to count backwards from three minutes.
Derek let out a frustrated yell.
“Derek! Derek!” Beth sobbed.
“I don’t…I don’t…um…S!” He yelled. He watched the letter-feed. Nothing happened. His eyes darted around, and finally landed on the microphone Quinn had pointed at. He ran and grabbed it. “S!” He spoke into it.
Someone behind the camera relayed it. In chalk, beside the missing letters, someone wrote the “S” onto an area labeled “TRASH.” The executor by Beth tied a knot in the rope, making a huge noose. Beth saw, and yelled more.
“Um…um…E!” Another letter into the Trash pile. Another knot in the rope. “Ughhhhhh!” Derek yelled, away from the mike. He looked over at Quinn. Then he dropped the mike and rushed him. He grabbed him at the throat and backed him up against the wall, his hands still in handcuffs. “I don’t know!” Derek yelled. “Let her go! Let her go!”
“I can’t.” Quinn muttered through a strained windpipe. “They’ll only stop if…you guess…correctly…”
Derek, disgusted, let Quinn go. He looked at the clock, which still counted down. 2 minutes, 30 seconds.
He picked up the microphone. “D.” A space was filled in with the letter “D.”
It now read, “__ __ D __ __ __ __ __ __ __”
“Yes! Yes! Um…T?”
The first space was filled in with the letter “T.” Derek laughed. “…I?”
“TID__ __ __ __ __ __ __”
“O!”
The “O” went to the trash. The noose was now place over Beth’s head. She became near hysterical. “Derekkkkkk!”
Derek’s “E” went to the trash. The noose was slid tighter on Beth’s neck. She closed her eyes. Her crying slowed so that it was almost inaudible.
1 minute, 50 seconds.
“R” was correct, and was added. The letter “B” was correct, as well.
“TID__ __ B__R__ __” remained.
“That’s not even a word!” Derek glared at Quinn.
“It’s a password.” Quinn glowered back.
Derek glanced at the countdown and made a sound of anger. Beth still sobbed quietly.
“G?” Incorrect. The noose was slid tighter. “F?” The noose was slid tighter.

1 minute, 27 seconds.

“H?” Correct. “Um…Um…”

“N?” Correct. “U.” Incorrect. The noose was slid even tighter.

1 minute.

“Derek save me!” Beth yelled.

“Y!” Derek said into the mike. Correct.

Two more spots remained.

“TIDH_B_RNY.”

“A” was incorrect. The noose was now as tight as it would go. Beth screamed-cried.

“I” was incorrect. The hooded executor roughly put a dark hood over Beth’s head. She whimpered underneath. Then the executor walked over to a lever.

The lever that dropped the floor.

To irritate, Quinn muttered, “You can’t afford another wrong one…”

“What else is there?!” Derek yelled at Quinn. Without waiting for an answer, “J!”

Correct.

40 seconds.

“Derek!” Beth yelled.

“Thirty seconds, Derek.” Quinn said coolly.

Derek turned. “Shut up!” He crawled up to the TV, mike still in hand. He watched Beth. Watched her body shake as she cried.

“Twenty seconds, Derek. GUESS ANOTHER LETTER!”

Derek looked at the chalk letters he had correctly guessed.

“TIDHJB_RNY”

“One more letter, Derek.” Quinn prodded.

Derek stared at the screen. Seconds passed.

Someone in the same room as Beth shouted, “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

“Five seconds!” Quinn yelled.

Derek screwed his face up in agony.

One more wrong, and Beth dies.

“Four, three, two, –” The executor gripped the lever.

Derek raised the microphone to his mouth, and said calmly, “Three. The number three.”

The counting stopped. Someone wrote in chalk the number 3.

It was correct.

Derek watched as the executor moved to Beth, and pulled the hood off. She sobbed in relief.

Quinn moved over to Derek, who sat on his knees in front of the TV, staring at Beth, and took the mike from his hands. He set it next to the TV, and then turned the TV off.

Derek stared quietly and motionless at the TV.

Quinn disappeared behind Derek, and then came around to the side again, holding Derek’s chair. He flipped it backwards, and then sat on it, leaning on the backrest. “Alright. You know the password. Now tell us. Where is it?”