'What do you even do when you're not here?'
'Nothing really, mainly travelling and painting. Not a lot else to do.'

"Please, just let me go. What the hell is wrong with you?!" His words ring out across the vastness of the abandoned boxing ring, the cracked walls peeling silently as a masked figure walks past, his gloved hands gently brushing the flakes of paint to the floor as he passes. His mask is black, with two eye holes exposing beautiful blues and a stitched mouth piece that moves slightly as he begins to speak. "I'm not going to kill you William, settle down." The mask moves, probably a smile but nothing is concrete. The masked man steps up into the ring, using the ropes to hoist himself onto the dirtied mat. In one corner of the ring is a large blank easel, the crisp white of the canvas offering obvious contrast to the dank browns and rusted oranges of the facility. In the other is a large empty sports bag.
William, a short stocky man with thick ginger sideburns leans forwards invoulantarily, his wrists and ankles bound to the elastic ropes, his chest sticking out to somehow support himself, his eyes darting between the masked man and the childs paddling pool situated directly below him. "What the **** is this?! Drown me? You gonna drown me in this piece of ****?!" The masked man approaches, his dignified posture obvious in his strides before he comes to a halt, towering over William. He peers down at him then looks to the pool. "I'm not going to kill you William. I'm not a murderer. You on the other hand, well, i know i don't have to bore you with the details of your crimes so i'll just slap your chubby little face and insist you shut your mouth." The masked man raises his hand, watching William whince prematurely, his body shifting to the right to avoid the hit. The man's stiched mouth creases into a smile, his hand lowering to ruffle Williams curly amber lockes. He gently taps his head and waggles his finger as he steps backwards, kneeling down to inspect one of his long black sports bags. "Now i'm going to show you something William and you're going to cooperate with me because i think, the last thing you want right now is a flask of boiling sugar water trickling down your back." William struggles, the cable ties that restrain his wrists and such tightening with every pull. The masked man tuts, removing a small leatherbound journal from his bag and walks calmly back to William, holding the cover infront of him. "Read it."
William grunts, his rage building up into vocal grunts before he screams with rage. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT WAS YOU! YOU TWISTED LITTLE PUNK! WHAT THE **** IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" The masked man shakes his head, his large gloved hand cupping William's face, his fingers gently stroking his skin. "William. Read me, the title of this book." William shakes his head violently, the redness on his skin now evident as his struggling allows the ties to cut deeper into his skin. The masked man sighs, watching the cuts develop. He kneels down, adjusting the paddling pool beneath William and looks up to him, his eyes following the drops of blood falling freely into it. "This is not how this works William, you know that. Regardless of who you think i am, there is an important request being posed to you as you hang so helplessly, consequences outlined to you should you not be willing to cooperate and still you deny me the simple act of reading the title of this journal. Your stupidity does not impress me William, now read!" The masked man raises his voice, slowly losing patience. William stops struggling, his dulling green eyes focusing on the journal before him. His top lip curls in disgust before he speaks, lowering his head as his energy is quickly drained. "Magical Door Theory: A brief outline of History by William Lenhurst, Michael Lenigas, Miranda Salle and Samuel Fallow." He coughs, spluttering into the pool, sticky mucas filling his lungs after years of smoking. He looks up to the masked man, his eyes watering, his body stressed after prolonged strain from the way he is tied. He speaks quietly once more.
"I know it's you Lenigas, Samuel's dead and only you and Miranda maintain contact. You're after my piece of the journal aren't you! Well you're not getting it! You made your choice when you declared we hide our secrets from eachother. I begged you to reconsider but you wouldn't listen, you were convinced none of us could be trusted. The day Samuel declared only one person would travel to the beyond, he declared war on us all, hunting us for our secrets. He didn't deserve the chance to pass through, that's why he's dead and we're alive! **** Miranda, me and you could work together, i'd let you do it. I'd stand back! I swear!"
The masked man, having removed a beautifull decorated brush from his pocket, places the book to one side, his knees bending as he meets William on eye level. "I've come to collect your secrets William. I have your journal already so i know you've guessed what comes next." William trembles, his body becoming more and more motionless, the cuts from his wrists still spilling the occasional drop of blood. The masked man stands up straight, walking over to the easel in the corner of the ring. He picks it up and moves it directly in front of William before reaching down to remove a long pointed dagger. He approaches William whose eyes begin to roll into the back of his head, his body slumping forward. The man cups Williams face, holding it up right before bring the dagger up and holding it between his lips. He uses it to prise open his mouth and then slip the dagger up into the roof of his mouth. Blood begins to flow, filling Williams mouth. The man drops the dagger into the pool and brings his brush up and into the pooled blood. He turns, still holding up Williams head and uses the brush to begin painting. He speaks calmly as he paints. "Not long now William, your blood will paint the way." Once finished, he allows his head to drop, the blood spilling into the pool. The masked man reaches into his pocket and removes a small leather pouch from which he removes a small tab of paper. He carefully opens William's left eye and places the tab on his iris. He shuts the eye with his thumb and steps back, picking up the dagger. He leans over and cuts the cable ties, letting William fall face first into the pool. He collects the loose objects in the ring and packs away the easel, placing everything neatly into the sports bag. He watches William in the pool, slowly coming to. "William, right now you have a very powerful tab of acid raging through your body. As far as you're concerned, you are just another madman who succumbed to the might of London's nastiest gangsters, your debt to them no doubt drug related. They tied you up and tortured you for their money to which you eventually came to agreement. The men wore masks except for one, a certain Michael Lenigas, who in fact oversaw the entire event. You remember his face, his piercing blue eyes judging you at your moment of true weakness. Your transaction complete, you stumbled to the nearest police station, your mind a wreck as you try to explain to them your situation. The cut in your mouth is a scar you received as a boy, drinking from a glass that your pearly new teeth had accidently bitten into. The force of the hits they dealt you caused the scar to tear, filling your mouth with blood and the cuts on your wrists are evidence of their applied force to keep you tied to a chair. You've never seen this boxing ring in your life and could not describe it's location even if you tried. Your mind is a major blank and you come to the conclusion that drugs are bad, your lifestyle of dealing and violence is behind you since any real investigation into you would reveal the several murders you have had a hand in. So i suggest, if you remember anything from tonight, it is that because if you kill again, i will find you and won't have to waste my time convincing you of what happened since dead men don't have a memory, just a legacy. Your legacy however will be quickly forgotten and the world shall continue to turn." The masked man quickly exits the ring and returns with a wooden chair from against one of the walls. He places it in the centre of the ring and hoists William from pool and into the chair. He carefully deflates the paddling pool and rolls it into a cylinder, taping the sides to stop the blood from spilling out. He reaches up and disconnects a punch bag from its chain, opening it up and empyting it into a second sports bag that sits in another corner of the ring. He picks up the rolled up pool, placing it inside of the punch bag before reattatching it and hoisting it high above the ring. He turns to William, sitting in the chair, his eyes half open as his body reacts to the hallucinogenic. The masked man raises a hand and punches him square across the face, knocking him sideways with the chair, both of which crash into the floor. He picks up his two sports bags and turns his back on William, confident the scene is spotless before approaching the exit. He turns briefly, the stitched cloth mouth of the mask twitching to speak but nothing is said. He opens the door, the moonlight pouring in from the outside. The door slams shut, the masked mans voice heard from beyond.
"Police please. Thank you. Yes, hello, i'd like to report a missing person..."

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'We've made a mess of making History!'



Reece Fallow - Ravenclaw