Author Games: Town of Mayhem

The Dawn of Mayhem | Townies

Jailor: Ean Adkins

"Do you always bind your victims and lock them inside your cellar like a homicidal lunatic?" a feminine voice asked as soon as the cellar door opened.

Ean almost laughed. He would've too, if it hadn't been coming from an enemy of the town. He'd learned through experience that anyone who spoke with confidence while being "jailed" was often times whom he'd suspected them to be. It was how criminals worked. They relied on their unwavering confidence to get them out of sticky situations, because if one had confidence in their own words, surely others would too. And if they were mouthy, it only more so confirmed every suspicion.

"Only the witchy-sort," he replied.

He climbed down the stairway and into the mostly empty room that used to be a cellar. The cellar itself wasn't filled with barrels of wine, as it was a few paintings, two chairs, and a single table that rested in the center. It made the space seem crowded and cramped— especially with the paintings that served no purpose but to hide bullet holes and blood— not that it mattered. Just like every other person he held prisoner, the woman in the chair would never see where she was, more or less who was holding her hostage. She was tied to her chair, and wore a black blindfold that could reveal nothing more than darkness. All for security measures that counted towards catch and release. The typical act he performed of just interrogating his suspects before letting them go after confirmation of their innocence.

She too would be let go once he received the answers he needed. Witch or not, his war wasn't with her.

"Flattered," she simply remarked.

Ean made his way around the table, and seated himself in the chair across from her. In front of him he could clearly see raven black hair, and a crooked smile that he wanted nothing more than to wipe off of her face. Though he would never kill her, he never liked witches. Majority of the time they were just tricksters who didn't give a damn about anyone but themselves.

"Yes, well. I would like for you to answer a few questions for me," he stated.

The raven-haired woman snorted. "Am I a fool to think I have a choice?"

He tapped his fingers on the table, letting out a long drawn-out sigh. The villains would make the whole process alot easier and faster if they just cooperated and didn't prolong it for such a long time. Already, it had been difficult to remain patient with them. Even worse when they decided to be mouthy.

"You may leave once you provide me the list of those you are aligned with," he attempted to reason with her.

Not much to his surprise, she didn't leave any silence between two of them. She quickly responded. "I might require some time to think about it."

This time Ean didn't stop himself from laughing. If she was going to mock him, he figured he might as well do the same.

"Ms. Wilson, you have no time. Your time to think about your answers is gone, and now I will give you two options. You may either give me your list of allies, or I can take a play from your playbook and leave you here to rot. What's it going to be?" he said in a firm tone.

She rolled her neck, as if to stretch in her chair. The corners of her mouth formed a large cheshire-cat grin, and she let out a small laugh that seemed to suggest she was the one in control. If she hadn't been Ean's only lead, he would've shot her with his pistol right then and there.

"Do not judge, or you too will be judged," she started, her flashy grin taunting him. "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. 'Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye?' You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.' Matthew 7:1 - 5," she recited, not once faltering her smile. She adjusted her posture within her seat, and continued, "If you leave me here any longer or execute me, surely you will burn in hell for being a hypocrite. It's written in the bible. You bare not the right to execute me, as that would make you no less of a murderer than I."