Silence the thug...permanently

From Create Your Own Story

---

Revision as of 20:23, 11 March 2014

You calmly walk across the cell, wrap your slender but muscular thighs around the thug's neck, and give a quick, vicious twist of your athletic hips, brutally snapping his neck with a loud CRACK. The small man's mouth drops open in shock.

"Well, he wanted to get between my legs. Looks like he got his wish." Cheerfully, you backflip across the cell to your companion, showing off your gymnastics skills as well as your lacy black panties underneath your miniskirt during the times you are upside down as you elegantly flick-flack. Landing neatly, you give him a seductive wink. You can now see a bulging erection in his trousers.

"So, what's a nice guy like you doing in a jail like this?" you ask, turning around a cheesy pick-up line that many guys have used on you.

"You...you killed him," is all he says.

"Look. We're going to have to get out of here and I sure as hell wasn't going to let him come with us. I made sure he wouldn't be able to shout for the guards. Now let's move on and get to know each other at least a little bit so we can work together more effectively."

"My name is Paul," he begins. "I'm from California. A bunch of my friends and I traveled to Syria to try to help people who were hurt by the war. We were working at a rebel refugee camp when it was attacked by Assad's soldiers. They accused me of being a spy and threw me in here."

"What happened to your friends?"

"They...they were killed in the attack." He begins to sob. You hold him, trying to comfort him, at the same time shaking your head. These young, naïve fools. Do-gooders, thinking everyone else in the world was just as warm and kind.

"So what about you, Miss...?" Paul asks, wiping away his tears.

"Just call me Rania," you say. You give him your cover story about being a Lebanese businesswoman who was arrested and falsely accused of being a spy. "What about him?" You point at the big lump in the corner.

"Him? He's just a common criminal. Well, er...was, you know."

"Look," you say. "I know this is making me sound like an insensitive bitch, but you've just learned a rough lesson at the school of hard knocks, and the bad news is it's probably going to get worse before it gets better. The good news is that we can work together. Now our first concern is getting the fuck out of here as fast as possible. If we're still here when the professional interrogators arrive, we'll be tortured until we give them what they want, then killed." Paul is now very pale. You try to give him a "don't worry" smile. It doesn't seem to work.

"Luckily, the first step isn't very hard," you continue. You reach into your long dark brown hair and pull out a hairpin. Inserting it into the lock, it takes only a few seconds before it opens with a click. Paul stares at you, impressed once again. "Come on," you whisper, leading him out of the cell.

The two of you advance slowly, quietly, and cautiously up the stairs, with you in the lead and Paul right behind you. Two guards are smoking and talking in a small room just off the entrance, oblivious to your presence.

• Take out the guards and take their weapons
• Sneak out the front door and try to make your escape immediately

Status
Health	{{{Health}}}	Equipment: Data drive, cyanide capsule
MP	{{{MP}}}
Level	{{{Level}}}