Short Straw

The scientist who drew the short straw was sent into the cell. His stomach sank as the door closed and locked behind him. Borestone looked across the table at the scientist and smiled at him.

“How… how has your memory recovery been coming along?” The scientist asked.

“I made a scrapbook!” Borestone said a happy, yet still incredibly boring voice. “I can remember the last shopping trip. I bought duct tape, so there’s some duct tape here. And rope, so here’s a picture of rope I clipped from a newspaper…”

The scientist could not stand it, how could this monster make shopping for a murder kit so boring? He had to do it, maybe if he was fast enough the monster could not respond and those outside would not stop him. He forced himself to walk up to the monster who was prattling on, holding a conversation with himself and not letting the only other person in the room get a word in edgewise. The scientist drew his gun from his pocket and shoved it against Borestone’s head. But before he could pull the trigger, the monster turned his skin into iron plates. The bullets bounced off the monster’s temple and ricocheted around the room. Borestone rolled his eyes at the scientist and went on talking about his scrapbook.

But the scientist saved one bullet for himself. It was his only way out.