The night was going well.

Tankards of ale splashed over and raucous laughter echoed through the large tavern.

I don’t remember much. Which is fine, probably the affect of the ale.

The main thing that _isn’t_ fine, is the fact I forgot how we were captured.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The sound of drips woke me from my deep slumber. I tried to move or see where I was but my hands and ankles were tied to the chair I was sat on and the room was engulfed in utter darkness. My mouth was tightly shut by an overly tight gag, making my position even more trapped.

Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed across the wall and a candle was lit. And then another, and then another, to finally reveal the room I was sat in. I looked for my captor, but they were nowhere to be seen. The dripping from earlier still continued, and to my realisation, it wasn’t water, it was my own blood. Streaming down my neck and chest to end up dripping on the floor. I tugged at my restraints, knowing they would do no good.

A voice sounded from behind me. Vile and crooked.

“Ready to die?” The voice said.

I sneered, multiple fetid stenches reaching me at once. “I don’t fear death.” I croaked in response, my dry lips splitting and causing blood to trickle down my chin.

“Then it will be all the more pleasant for the both of us.” The man laughed.

_This man is crazy. _I thought, trying to devise a plan.

I put on my best arrogant grin, trying to catch my captor of guard. “And you think you will be able to kill me?”

“I expect to. A simple target, a simple shot.” The man replied, his voice shaking slightly.

I chuckled, the sound slowly escaping my lips. “I have a tip for you. Come closer.”

The man leaned in, a stupid thing to do, really, but I assume he was too confident to have a care in the world.

“Always expect the unexpected.” At that very moment, I had managed to prise a dagger from my sleeve which was hidden away, ready for a time like this, and cut the rope from my wrists and ankles.

Whilst the man was confused, I kicked the chair into his chest, throwing him into the wall, his head violently crashing against the stone. I pressed the dagger to his throat.

“See? Told ya.” Before he could beg for mercy, I slit his throat, looking away so blood didn’t splatter onto my face.

“Now, I think it’s time I leave.” I took one final theatrical bow toward the corpse in front of me before sheathing my dagger and making an exit.