Remnants Of Revelations

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Dreary eyes opened, a groaning sound escaping your lips. You wanted to stretch and wake yourself properly from this horrible nightmare.

But when you discovered your hands were restricted, you knew it wasn't a dream at all.

You were sitting in an old wooden chair, your hands tied behind the rickety, back supporting piece. In front of you, your ankles were tied down to the rusting legs of the chair. You pulled your head upward slowly, the lights making you wince. You temporarily forgot your situation, and realized you couldn't reach up and massage the back of your now aching head.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?"

Your eyes snapped up to John Kreese, who stood before you with his arms crossed.

"You so easily fell into my trap." He grinned.

You jerked in the seat, threatening to break free and lunge. He laughed at this, making your blood boil.

"Nice try, sweetheart, but those are bowline knots. You're not getting out of those. I learned how to master them when I was at war."

Your lips curled and you tilted your head. "Don't you have a bunch of teenage boys to be manipulating right about now?"

"I do," he smirked and leaned down, "but first, I have to take care of you."

He began to pace in front of you, and you followed him with your eyes. Your gaze was strong enough to kill.

"I knew you would show up here tonight... you're my niece. I would've done the same thing."

"But was knocking me unconscious really necessary? Or did you do that for fun?"

"A little bit of both."

Your eyes rolled majorly, getting a rise out of your uncle.

"You see," he gestured to the establishment around you with his hands, "I know you think, you had everything under control. But believe me when I say that every strategic thought going through your head was already planned by me. I've seen you walking these streets, skating around when your head is foggy with so many thoughts. I've memorized your route patterns. I knew you would end up here. And I knew when you saw the lights on in the dojo during the tournament, that you would grow suspicious. And how you believed it to be fate when they turned on right as you happened to be walking past. And the car in the parking lot? That was just the final piece of this little project of mine."

"You're sick." You seethed.

"So I've heard."

As his manic laughter filled the dojo, your fists clenched in the ropes behind your back. "You tried to kill me."

"You knew too much."

"Aw," you challenged, mockingly pouting in his direction, "you were afraid I would prevent you from winning your plastic trophy?"

He held a finger in the air. "Not afraid. Annoyed. I hoped you would simply take the car as a warning threat, but I knew you would be too stubborn to give up this little act of yours. And now... here we are."

Being ruthless with him clearly wasn't getting you anywhere. And for a moment, your heart hurt for him. The fact that he was willing to go great lengths such as these for a trophy, showed that he had nothing else. The win was all he had.

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