Roleplayers

Chapter #1.2 The Escape

"He's awake." a faint, indistinct voice murmured.

As my eyes were adjusting, I saw a bright light masked by brown crosshatches and a grey table in front of me. I struggled to see as I had this brown sack on my head. Breathing became difficult as It smelled like a week old, unwashed sock. I tried to move only to find my hands and feet, bound to a steel chair.

Not long after, I heard a loud clanking sound twice. It seems I'm confined in some sort of interrogation room judging from the opening and closing of a metal door because of the small echo that resonated throughout the room. Am I busted by the police? If that's the case, why would they cover my face with a sack?

"Ah, you're finally awake." gloated a man with a British accent as he removed the sack.

"Would it kill you to wash the sack, Jamal?" I queried, rolling my eyes and inhaling a huge air of disappointment.

I observed around. The glass windows showed a bunch of huge metal freight containers. I must be in an office in a warehouse. There were two guards armed with rifles just standing outside the window.

He placed his hands on table and looked me straight in the eyes. "It's not Jamal, it's just Amal." he answered with a tone of disdain, mincing the words.

Amal Al-Assad, a rich Lebanese business man and Wendy's fiancé. As a member of one of the oldest trade companies tracing his lineage from East India Company itself, he had presence. Aside from his Arabic facial features and skin tone, his haircut was clean and short, and he had bushy beard and mustache. He wore a suit and tie.

"Whatever. What do you want?" I complained, groaning with distaste.

"You see, I'm about to get married in a few weeks. I know women tend to have second thoughts, or what do you call it? Marriage jitters?  I'm not about to let that happen. This has been set in motion for years in advanced. In fact, our families have decided this before she was even conceived. And so my assigned my security personnel to guard Wednesday. She did not come home today."

He paced back and forth as he continued to explain. "My guards tell me she has vanished right in front of them. I find that quite preposterous. It's either my security is incompetent, or you employed some sort of trickery or deceit." he concluded.

"I'm not a magician. And even if I knew, I would never tell you."

"That may be true, but you have motive to do so. I know you still have feelings for her despite both her and my family going against you. Like Romeo and Juliet, you both met secretly and conspired to elope. A reason more likely than anything you have to say."

"Listen Jamal-"

He slammed the table with his fist, making a loud bang. "It's bloody fucking Amal! How hard is that to remember?" he shouted.

"I have a hard time remembering the things I don't care about." I snickered.

He sighed and face-palmed. "Ugh, you are loathsome to deal with." he complained, pulling his hair in annoyance. 

"Oh, sick burn."

'Will you shut up!? You juvenile twit.'

"No, you shut up! I don't give a f*ck about you and you'll never get anything from me."

He pulled out a Beretta 9mm pistol, and placed it on the table with the barrel pointed towards me.

"Seriously? You're going to shoot me? You think I'm scared of dying? Go ahead. Do it motherf*cker! Do it! Pull the f*cking trigger!" I roared.