A single red light bulb washed the room with a sickly glow. It was impossible to tell the color of the featureless walls. They were hard, textured. My head ached, apparently from leaning back against one of those walls. I groggily noted that I was nude. My ass ached too, from the cold floor. I could hardly feel it. I’m having trouble focusing. It feels as if I’m having double vision, but it’s hard to tell with the washed out quality of the light. I squeeze my eyelids together in an attempt to clear my head, to focus on something. My body feels sluggish, drugged. I force them open, again. Peer between my legs. There’s a note on the floor. It seems to be written in red ink, the difference in the paper and the writing barely noticeable. I concentrate. Put my hand over it for some shade. I can see it better, now.
You will die here. The only way to save yourself is to remove two of the following six items from your body.
Genitals –you have 30 seconds to choose, and five minutes to finish.
I lay my head back in shock, and notice for the first time that hanging on the wall above my head are an ice pick, a razor blade, and a hand axe.
I can feel the seconds ticking away. Somehow, I know this note is truth. What order, what order? I reach up, grabbing the ice pick. A tear rolls down my face. I jam it in, swirling it around and scrambling the area. A million nails are pounding in to my head, so I switch hands, repeat the action on the other side. I’m screaming, hysterical, and still working the pick around. Quickly, before I lose too much blood, and my nerve, I reach and grab the axe with a bloody hand. The blood looks black in this light. I try to get a good grip, but blood flows down my face, and it’s so hard to grasp it. I bring it down with a resounding bang.
So thanks to