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Description
Your prize has begun to stir.

A young man sits in a chair before you, his wrists and ankles taped securely to the arms and legs. His hair is brown and boring, his attire casual, almost slovenly. According to his driver's license, his name is Kota.

You watch intently as his eyelids flutter open. He looks down at himself, taking his sweet time registering what has happened to him. It takes him a good fifteen seconds to start struggling.

"It's about time you woke up," You say, making him jump. "Sitting here watching you sleep is boring as hell."

The boy swallows hard before he responds. "Who... who are you?"

You frown. "What a dull question. That's really all you've got to say?"

You can tell by his blank expression that he's not really sure how to respond to that.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. You don't need to know who I am." You examine your nails. "But if you must, you can call me Manticore."

To your surprise, Kota's eyes widen upon hearing your name. You hear the tape around his wrists creak as he instinctively pulls back against it.

"Y-you..." He gasps, his breath suddenly catching. "You're the one...!"

"Hmm?" You level a disinterested gaze at him. "You've heard of me?"

His sharp intake of breath and sudden silence tip you off that he's hiding something from you. Slowly, deliberately, you stand and walk over to him, your boots clicking noisily on the linoleum floor. You loom over the boy, casting a shadow over his face as your tall figure comes between him and the single flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"How do you know my name, Kota?"

Despite being clearly afraid, Kota does a good job of keeping his lips firmly shut. You're willing to bet a little persuasion will get him to talk.

Normally you would be thrilled at the prospect of beating this mystery out of him, but for some reason, all you feel is disappointment. In fact, for the last few weeks, all of your jobs have felt tasteless and boring. Something's missing, and you're not sure what.

"Do you know why you're here, Kota?" You ask, in your most sinister interrogation voice. "It's not a good reason."

"Why... am I here?"

"You're here because you're an easy target, and I need an outlet."

"An... outlet?"

"Oh, for god's sake," You scowl. "Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

You slide your switchblade from your belt and flick it open, holding it up to Kota's face. He leans backward as the tip grazes his cheek.

"I'm going to hurt you. Not for information, not for revenge, not for money. Just because I want to. Because I need to."

The boy's eyes start welling up, and he slowly shakes his head. "No... no, please... Please, I'll tell you anything you--"

You twirl the switchblade around your fingers and bring it down, blade first, into the space between Kota's legs. The knife buries a few inches into the wood of the chair.

"However," You continue where you left off. "I might be convinced to change my mind."

Kota's lip trembles. He looks at you, then down at the knife, then back up at you.

You place a hand over one of his bound wrists and lean close, almost touching him.

"How do you know my name?"

You can see the hesitation in Kota's eyes, but eventually he says, "A... a friend of mine... h-he told me... you hurt him..."

"Who?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, turning his head sharply away from you. "Please don't make me rat out my friend! Please!"

"You don't need to tell me where he is. I just need a name."

The boy trembles in the chair, his head bowed. After a few moments of deliberation, he says one word.

"Dex."

Your breath catches in your throat.

"You're friends with Dex?"

"Please..." Kota moans, tears spilling down his face. "Please, leave him out of this..."

You lean back, away from Kota. A smile begins to split your face, a smile you'd forgotten existed.

Dex.

Could it be? The missing piece?

You yank the switchblade out of the chair and return it to your belt. You then kneel beside the chair and pick up the discarded roll of duct tape that you used to restrain Kota.

"What are you doing?" Kota whimpers as you approach him with the tape. He finally begins to yank against his bonds. "I did what you asked! Let me go, you psychopath!"

"Oh, not just yet." You peel the end of the tape from the roll. "There's one last thing I need from you."

You plaster the tape over Kota's lips and wind the whole roll around his head, wrapping his face with several layers of tape. When you finish, Kota shakes his head vigorously to try and work the gag loose, but that stuff ain't coming off anytime soon.

"Now, I know I promised to let you go..." You grin, dropping the tape to the ground and pulling out your phone. "But Dex is a very different story."

Kota bucks angrily against the chair, all traces of fear gone from his face.

"MMMM!! MMMPH!"

"Yes, yes, you're very threatening," You murmur as you snap a few pictures with your phone. "I also never mentioned when I'd let you go, so..."

You press your foot against Kota's chest and shove. His chair tips backwards, and he falls heavily to the floor.

"...Get comfortable."

Your mirthful laughter echoes around you as you climb up the staircase out of the basement. Kota's furious, gagged screams follow you until you close the door and shut him into darkness.

Description
Your prize has begun to stir.

A young man sits in a chair before you, his wrists and ankles taped securely to the arms and legs. His hair is brown and boring, his attire casual, almost slovenly. According to his driver's license, his name is Kota.

You watch intently as his eyelids flutter open. He looks down at himself, taking his sweet time registering what has happened to him. It takes him a good fifteen seconds to start struggling.

"It's about time you woke up," You say, making him jump. "Sitting here watching you sleep is boring as hell."

The boy swallows hard before he responds. "Who... who are you?"

You frown. "What a dull question. That's really all you've got to say?"

You can tell by his blank expression that he's not really sure how to respond to that.

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. You don't need to know who I am." You examine your nails. "But if you must, you can call me Manticore."

To your surprise, Kota's eyes widen upon hearing your name. You hear the tape around his wrists creak as he instinctively pulls back against it.

"Y-you..." He gasps, his breath suddenly catching. "You're the one...!"

"Hmm?" You level a disinterested gaze at him. "You've heard of me?"

His sharp intake of breath and sudden silence tip you off that he's hiding something from you. Slowly, deliberately, you stand and walk over to him, your boots clicking noisily on the linoleum floor. You loom over the boy, casting a shadow over his face as your tall figure comes between him and the single flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"How do you know my name, Kota?"

Despite being clearly afraid, Kota does a good job of keeping his lips firmly shut. You're willing to bet a little persuasion will get him to talk.

Normally you would be thrilled at the prospect of beating this mystery out of him, but for some reason, all you feel is disappointment. In fact, for the last few weeks, all of your jobs have felt tasteless and boring. Something's missing, and you're not sure what.

"Do you know why you're here, Kota?" You ask, in your most sinister interrogation voice. "It's not a good reason."

"Why... am I here?"

"You're here because you're an easy target, and I need an outlet."

"An... outlet?"

"Oh, for god's sake," You scowl. "Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

You slide your switchblade from your belt and flick it open, holding it up to Kota's face. He leans backward as the tip grazes his cheek.

"I'm going to hurt you. Not for information, not for revenge, not for money. Just because I want to. Because I need to."

The boy's eyes start welling up, and he slowly shakes his head. "No... no, please... Please, I'll tell you anything you--"

You twirl the switchblade around your fingers and bring it down, blade first, into the space between Kota's legs. The knife buries a few inches into the wood of the chair.

"However," You continue where you left off. "I might be convinced to change my mind."

Kota's lip trembles. He looks at you, then down at the knife, then back up at you.

You place a hand over one of his bound wrists and lean close, almost touching him.

"How do you know my name?"

You can see the hesitation in Kota's eyes, but eventually he says, "A... a friend of mine... h-he told me... you hurt him..."

"Who?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, turning his head sharply away from you. "Please don't make me rat out my friend! Please!"

"You don't need to tell me where he is. I just need a name."

The boy trembles in the chair, his head bowed. After a few moments of deliberation, he says one word.

"Dex."

Your breath catches in your throat.

"You're friends with Dex?"

"Please..." Kota moans, tears spilling down his face. "Please, leave him out of this..."

You lean back, away from Kota. A smile begins to split your face, a smile you'd forgotten existed.

Dex.

Could it be? The missing piece?

You yank the switchblade out of the chair and return it to your belt. You then kneel beside the chair and pick up the discarded roll of duct tape that you used to restrain Kota.

"What are you doing?" Kota whimpers as you approach him with the tape. He finally begins to yank against his bonds. "I did what you asked! Let me go, you psychopath!"

"Oh, not just yet." You peel the end of the tape from the roll. "There's one last thing I need from you."

You plaster the tape over Kota's lips and wind the whole roll around his head, wrapping his face with several layers of tape. When you finish, Kota shakes his head vigorously to try and work the gag loose, but that stuff ain't coming off anytime soon.

"Now, I know I promised to let you go..." You grin, dropping the tape to the ground and pulling out your phone. "But Dex is a very different story."

Kota bucks angrily against the chair, all traces of fear gone from his face.

"MMMM!! MMMPH!"

"Yes, yes, you're very threatening," You murmur as you snap a few pictures with your phone. "I also never mentioned when I'd let you go, so..."

You press your foot against Kota's chest and shove. His chair tips backwards, and he falls heavily to the floor.

"...Get comfortable."

Your mirthful laughter echoes around you as you climb up the staircase out of the basement. Kota's furious, gagged screams follow you until you close the door and shut him into darkness.