... I opened my eyes a slit and without moving tried to take in my situation. My head felt like a grenade had went off next to my ear, but more likely it was the butt of one of those AK-47's that had been present the last time I was conscience. I checked my hands and feet, they were sticking out uncovered from the light sheet that had been cast over my unconscious body to prevent me from dying from hypothermia before they had finished interrogating me, they were cold and stiff but there were no restraints and I could move them. I could hear a soft humming noise nearby but there was no other sound, so I chanced raising up just a little for a look around. I was being held in a small cell with nothing in it and I had been laid out on a built in slab of concrete that jutted out from the wall. The wall had two sets of rings attached to short chains which disappeared into the concrete. Looking up I saw two more rings dangling down over the small open area beside the slab where I lay. No doubt what they were for, more fun and games were in store for me as soon as they knew that I had regained conscientiousness.
I needed a little time, and I needed a plan fast. Easing up slowly I leaned forward so that I could glance down the corridor, hopefully undetected. At the far end a guard was sitting with a rifle across his knees upon which he had placed an open magazine and was slowly flipping pages. Slowly yes, but not slow enough to be reading the articles. The occasional flicking of his tongue and a slight nodding of approval was all I needed to know what kind of literature he was studying. There was a small oscillating fan on a table beside him along with a shoddy lamp with a torn shade. At least I knew where the hum was coming from, that should cover any noise from my movements as long as I was careful.
They would be coming to check on me soon, who would they send? Probably a low ranking medic, they just needed someone who could tell when I had returned to the realm of the living from la la land. So if I was fortunate it would just be the guard and one medic, but why was I optimist, I was naked and there was nothing in the room that I could use but the sheet. The door opened in, I could use that! If I was right and there was just two of them, and if my timing was perfect, and if the guard didn't fire a round off in the struggle I had a chance. That was a lot of "if's," but what choice did I have? They were going to torture me and when they had finished scrambling my brains they would either kill me or try to trade me back for something that they wanted. There would be no trade, no one was going to avow me for this mission, so I was as good as dead if this didn't work.
I had practiced my moves forty times or more before I heard voices and a door opening down by the peep show guy. I could hear them mumbling to each other as they came down the corridor but of course I didn't understand the words. I pretended to still be out cold and I was trying to control my breathing, slow and easy. His color is back said the medic as the guard unlocked the door, careful replied the guard, he probably has training. Training I thought, I'm about to show you some good old American Navy Seal training. I was lying half on my right side facing toward the wall with my left elbow free and my hand on the corner of the sheet, and I counted, one step in, two steps move...
The sheet was flung over the medic as the guard was coming through the doorway but before he was in far enough to be able to train the gun on me. In an instant I grabbed the barrel with my left hand and slammed the door as hard as I could into the guards face with the right hand. as the guard was sliding down to the flour the rifle was coming up into my hands. The medic came out from under the sheet with an angry grimace on his face, which quickly turned to panic as he saw that the pointy end of the rifle was coming at mach speed right for his right eyeball. The entire fight had lasted no more than two seconds, two and a half minutes more and I was already wearing the medics cloths. The guy's eye had exploded in it's socket , splattering blood on the far wall, and there had been a constant ooze of blood and broken pieces of his eye with each heartbeat as I had undressed him. Yes they were still alive, kind of silly for a cold blooded killer like me I guess, but I have to live with myself too. I just have to believe that there is a difference in killing and murder, and a man should know where to draw the line. I cleaned the blood off of the shirt as best I could with the sheet, now to find a way out of here...
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Graphic By: Giphy
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Prompt: Ooze
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