Prologue
“So, now do you understand? All of the pain you caused me,” says the maniac wielding baseball bat over his shoulder, with a sharp-toothed grin and cold piercing eyes at the poor soul tied in a little chair. Blood pouring down from his face, couple teeth have broken in, certain to lose an eye, as it looks at him, and utters;
“You’re not rejected by your appearance. Women have a sixth sense, they could tell you were a psychopath from the minute you entered the door.”
The maniac, enraged by thought, slams the baseball bat into his skull. The man spit up blood is his head shakes to the side, he’s unfazed by the action, he knew the maniac wouldn’t be able to handle truth anyway.
“I’m not a psychopath!” he roars as he watches the man spit the blood out. “I’ll set you straight.” He says as he walks away, looking for something else to torture and bash his head in with.
The man, having already untied himself, races towards the window, hoping that he can get it open just enough to escape. He pushes the rashes against the window, multiple times just for it to budge a little on the 10th try. It’s enough time to squeeze his head out, he takes it. He pushes through, thrashing in the window to be able to get his the rest of his body out until it opens completely and his feet are out.
He makes a run for. Having already seen a reason the way from when his blindfold came off for a second, he passes through all the foliage and sees the lights coming from down the road. He rushes in front of the two lights, waving his hands to stop it from continuing, only to be face-to-face with the maniac from before, only this time his smiles even more terrifying as he says, “Well, what do we have here? Did you really think I was just going to let you go?”
