Joel sat strapped onto a wooden chair.
The device strapped under his chin and against the notch at the of
the breastbone was sharp, locked in tight, and limited head movement.
“Never was good at chess,”he said
to no one.
The voice came from behind, “Doesn't
matter”
“Any chance I get out alive?”
Placing his hand on the back of Joel's
head, the stranger said, “For me, living without murder is like you
living without food.” He then violently pushed Joel's head forward
forcing the hardened metal fork into the wind pipe causing a slow
painful, gagging death.
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