A cold ticking hand on the clock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Each second a nail dragging on a chalk board, it's tremendous creak and scratch. His skin crawls as if a spider is walking across it, he begins to squirm in his seat, his back no longer feeling well. A trickle of sweats drains down his slanted forehead, a bright blindingly bright light swings over head, his hair clings to his head in matted clumps.
His wrists are tied tight by a rough sand paper like rope, dried crusted blood it matted up and down his arms. His mouth is dry like dust is in it, his tongue swollen and sticking to the roof of his mouth.
A thin man entered the room. A pitch black suit with a white tie around his neck, his face was hidden in shadow. This man's voice seemed far off, way to far off.
"Why did you do it?'
Tears fall down the tied up man's face.
"Do what?"
"Killing them. Killing her" A picture of a beautiful women with blond hair in held in front of his face. "Him." A child of no more than twelve years of age.
"I didn't.." Suit and tie smacked him across the face.
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