Mack LuckMature

This time, when I woke up, I was not in a dimly lit room with scary voices talking to me.

I found myself lying on a table, a long, polished table in the middle of a huge room. The table was surrounded by chairs, and in those chairs, were people.

They stared at me as if I were an alien. They frowned and blinked hard, almost as if they couldn’t quite understand me.

I went onto my hands and knees, they all jumped as I moved, if I hadn’t been wondering where I was, I would have probably burst out laughing.

“Mr Carter.” Bob introduced me to all the people. There must have been at least fifty all gathered around the table.

“Where am I?” I croaked, looking at all the people around me.

“These are my friends, and that, my friend, is what we like to call ‘The Torture Table’.” He smiled and cocked his head to the left, as if he were curious about me.

"Oh dear. 'The Torture Table'." I repeated in an impersination of Bob. His face grew angry.

“You are just an evil man. A murderer, a conman and a thief, Bob.” I said, trying to get him to see sense.

“That reminds me. My names not Bob Hunt. It’s Mack Luck.” I still don’t see how me saying that could’ve reminded him.

“Ok. Mack. You’re going to “torture” me?” I put on the same booming voice he was using.

“Yes. Yes I am.” He said simply. I nodded; I didn’t think he really was going to do it. I looked down at the table that I was kneeling on.

It was made out of wood, but metal was twirling within the wood, I wasn’t mistaken.

“Soon, I will plug in the table to the mains socket. And you, being on the table, will not be able to escape being electrocuted. Do not worry though. I will take care of Raphael.” He didn’t stop smiling.

The End

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