[ WP ] You wake up in a dimly lit prison cell to find your cell door busted open , a pile of unconscious guards , a stuffed duck called Leeroy , the faint sound of Gangnam Style , and an absurd amount of blood on your hands

My head throbbed as I came back to consciousness, matching the beat of the faint music I could hear. “ What the fuck? ” I mutter, recognising Gangnam Style. I rub my forehead, feeling a sticky substance transferring from my fingers. I look at my hands. It was blood, partially dried, and obscure amounts of it too. It practically coated my arms and legs. A smile reaches my lips as I take a long lick down my arm, tasting the metallic liquid. I scrunch my face up; a bit too sour, for my preference. 
 
 Alright, time to see what mess I ’ ve gone and slaughtered my way into now. I look around the small cell, lit dimly by a single flickering bulb from the ceiling. A familiar shape laid on the floor on it ’ s side, and I scrambled from the bed I was lying on to collect it. It was a small stuffed animal, but not just any stuffed animal. This one was special, oh yes he was. How many stuffed animals do you know that commit killing sprees? “ Leeroy? ” I say gently, holding him tenderly in my blood-soaked hands, leaving behind smears of blood on his gorgeous white cotton. I tsk, sitting him back down carefully and stripping the bed of its rough sheet, wiping the blood off as best I could off my arms. As I did that, I peered out into the hallway my cell was connected to. 
 
 “ Oh, Leeroy, what have we gone and done now. ” I mutter, counting the amount of guard bodies strewn about on the floor. They were unconscious, as far as I could tell. I walk back into the cell, noting the mangled door with interest. “ Did you do that, Leeroy? ” I ask, picking him up and taking him over to the cell door. “ Who ’ s a clever boy? ” I croon at his expressionless face. People say I ’ m insane, talking to stuffed duck, but I know better. Leeroy was real, and he could communicate to me in a way others just couldn ’ t understand. He communicated to me now, complaining of the lighting. “ Yes, yes, we ’ ll get some better lighting when we leave. Plenty of sunlight, and good light-bulbs. ” I assure him, walking into the hallway and stepping over the unconscious forms of the guards. Leeroy expressed his displeasure with the guards survival. “ Don ’ t worry your pretty little head, Leeroy. ” I say, reaching down and tugging a knife free of the guard ’ s belt closest to me. 
 
 I work methodically through the guards, taking the knife to their throat in a quick and clean fashion. Leeroy complains I ’ m letting them die too easily, but I compromise with him, telling him we ’ ll go kill some more people in a more gruesome and drawn-out way once we get out of this place, wherever it is. I head down the hallway towards the sound of Gangnam Style, looping over and over again. I pass several cells containing dead bodies. My work, I note. That would explain the blood. But I don ’ t remember killing them. Leeroy doesn ’ t remember, either. If Leeroy doesn ’ t remember, then that ’ s bad. He accuses me of killing folk without him. “ Now, now, Leeroy. ” I protest. “ I wouldn ’ t kill without you, you know that. ” I nuzzle against his softness. He lets me off the hook, but with a warning. I take it without complaint. I love Leeroy, and I don ’ t want to make him upset with me. 
 
 I reach a wide room, containing dozens of chairs and a projector connected to a small laptop, projecting the music video of Gangnam Style onto the far wall. I smile at PSY ’ s silly dance, and Leeroy comments on the ladies in the video. “ We ’ ll go there one day, and we ’ ll hire someone for you. ” I promise him. I turn around to the wall behind the projector, away from the chairs. There ’ s two speakers, up in the corners of the ceiling and a large mirror covering the wall. The music cuts out abruptly, and Leeroy gets upset. He liked that song. 
 
 “ Well done, subject 17. You recognised the song this time. ” A cold voice congratulates me through the speakers. Leeroy panics, and I mutter sweet nothings to him, cradling him in my arms. “ Wh-who are you? ” I ask. 
 
 “ Don ’ t worry about that, 17. ” The voice replies. “ Sleep now, you ’ ve done well. ” I hear a hissing sound, and something stung my neck. I touch the spot, feeling something sticking out and pulled it away. It was a small dart of some kind, with an empty vial in it. I throw it aside, getting angry with this voice. I don ’ t like pain, and I don ’ t like people shooting me with darts! Leeroy was trying to tell me something, but I wouldn ’ t listen. I step towards the mirror, intending to rip it open with my bare hands and reach that cold voice, tear his still-beating heart out in my furious rage, but I fell and hit the floor, dropping Leeroy, who bounced away from me towards a doorway I didn ’ t see before. I tried to crawl to him, but my body wouldn ’ t respond to my wishes. I panicked, Leeroy needed me! My thoughts grew dim and sluggish, and my vision began to darken. I saw was a pair of legs dressed in a suit stepping on Leeroy, crushing him underfoot. I snarl at him, my rage all-consuming, pushing the darkness back momentarily. My hand moves towards Leeroy trapped under the man ’ s foot. I could hear Leeroy screaming in pain. Another hiss, and another dart embedded itself into my neck. My hand stops moving, and I can ’ t even scream in frustration. The darkness is back, swarming my vision. 
 
 “ We ’ ll get you another one, 17. ” The cold voice promises as I finally black out, hand outstretched to Leeroy ’ s now-silent body, a tear leaking out the corner of my eye. 
 
 
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 I do n't post to WP's much, but any criticism would be appreciated. Hopefully you enjoyed. 

