Twisting rope always made a sick noise when it strained, like sinew stretching. I could feel it tightly wound around my wrists, the sharp ends pressing into my skin.

  I was tied to a chair; my head drooped over my chest, my hands wrapped behind me. The taste of blood was thick in my mouth, and when my tongue ran over a sore spot between my teeth, it found a gap where a tooth was missing.

  Shit.

  I spit the pooling blood out and opened my eyes.

  The room was dim; a single bulb burned at the ceiling center. It twitched every few seconds, threatening to go out. The smell of dust was pungent.

  The only exit, a doorless doorway, was to the side of the room. There was no way to tell where it went. At least this place doesn't look like a torture room.

  As a matter of fact, it looked like an old dining room. A dinner table sat opposite me, pushed against the far wall, complete with chairs, plates, and silverware. This is someone's home.

  I tried the ropes. Too tight.

  Then, voices broke through the doorway. A man in red overalls stepped into the room, his deep-set eyes finding me awake. Without lingering, he pulled up a chair and sat down in front of me. The chair croaked under the man's enormous weight.

  His leg also hissed like an angry snake as air decompressed from machinery. One of his pantlegs was rolled up, revealing a thick metal replacement, a true cybernetic leg. It had a rotating foot, a three-part knee, and was made of solid metal. O3, a synthetic limb manufacturer's logo, was branded onto the side. The thing was a genuine article. Expensive.

  Air hissed from hydraulic tubes as the man came to rest.

  "Who the fuck are you?" I said, groggy, "And what do you want?" One of his eyes was hollow. I wondered if it was Roteye.

  "You don't remember me?" His voice was deep. The man was big, twice my size.

  "I've never seen you in my life," I shot back. I thought about Slag. Was he still alive?

  "Then you don't remember the 20K I loaned you either. Or my daughter. My daughter who tells me you forced yourself on her," he said gravely, much to my surprise.

  What? His gaze was dead eyed, but his words gripped like solid anger. Of course, I had no idea what he was talking about. The look on my face must've told him how I was feeling.

  "Alright, then. You don't remember." He leaned back, the chair creaking. "I'll give you one chance. You can come clean by yourself or I'll have to beat you until you remember something."

  My heart was pumping. I had no idea what he was talking, not one bit. He was mistaking me for someone else.

  "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't owe you money. And, I don't know your daughter. You've got me mixed up with some other scumbag." I said, coldly. He eyed me back just as icy. The man looked like he could knock the block off a city street.

  "Oh, do I? There's been a mix-up, huh? Okay. If that's true, then you won't mind if I search your stuff?" My case was on the table, with my jacket lying flat and useless beside it.

  "Go ahead. I'm not the guy you're looking for. You'll see," I said, confident. I didn't have anything to hide from this prick. And nothing to steal either. I had no money, no ID, nothing of note at all. He'd have better luck chasing after ghosts. Besides, the fucker had me tied up. He could fuck himself and his whole crew for all I cared.

  The man, who, from his red overalls, I presumed to be Red, didn't go through my pockets. Instead, he picked up a strange ticket from the table. It looked like… a movie stub.

  I eyed it, suspiciously. What is that? My eyes went wide. Oh shit.

  "My daughter," He twiddled it between his thumbs, "Says she was out with a guy one night. They went somewhere near the city limits. Caught a movie. That was a couple days ago... a day after I met some young fella with a wild idea who said he could make this whole place rich." He flipped it around so I could see. Yup. I remembered the title. It was the ticket I'd found in my pocket when I woke from my bender at the InShot.

  "It says the 21st. That's the day after I gave you 20000 minneat. And that's when my daughter says you two were together. You ain't him? Then what's that doing in your pocket?"

  That ticket was in my pocket but that didn't mean anything. I could have gotten that from anywhere on a bender. There was no memory of a movie or money or a chick--

  "Saw you two days ago walking like a zombie, talking to some scanner chick near the OutPost..." Chuckles' words came flooding back to me. My stomach went upside down. The OutPost. That's where I am. The chick they were talking about must be his daughter. A sinking feeling began in the pit of my stomach.

  But the girl… there's no way I could've… could I? I had a tough time focusing on that stuff sober. But... on a bender anything can happen. I refused to believe it.

  Besides, the odds of this lining up were too slim.

  Red tossed the ticket back on the table, taking something else in return.

  "My daughter Margo told me she met some man. Got drunk with him. And on a whim, they got married. Went to buy wedding rings with the money he stole from me. Then, shortly after that, on the same night, this man, this bastard, tried to force himself on her. Said, he was claiming his wedding right. And when she refused, he smacked her around a bit until she complied. He took advantage of her, of my little girl! And all the while he carried the wedding ring she'd bought for him." He held up a gold band between his fingers. The wedding ring from my pocket. This was bad. Really bad.

  "Looks like you're my man," he said, letting the ring fall to the bare floor. It twinkled as it landed.

  I felt sick to my stomach. There was no mistaking it. His daughter was the woman I was with on my bender... But he's mistaken about the rest. I wouldn't do something like that. But deep down, I knew a bender was a bender.

  I shook off the feeling. No time for that. Focus on your survival. We have to get out of here. Plans formulated in my brain at breakneck speed. This man was about to do something terrible to me, and no matter what the truth was, he believed he the story. There was no mercy in a father for men like that.

  Red stood up, to my chagrin, chair resettling, leg compressing air as it lifted the hulk of a man. He went over to the table where I thought some torture device was waiting for him.

  Plans came and went. I tried to rip apart the rope shackles but they wouldn't loose at all. Find words, say anything… but nothing was good to risk talking my way out. There weren't any words he'd listen to.

  Instead of a torture tool, though, Red picked at my case, pulling the latches and opening it. The contents surprised him. He eyed the drugs for a while.

  "So you're a pusher, huh? Looks like a lot of stuff. Don't know what most of this is… but I bet it would cover my loss." He shut the case. "But it wouldn't cover the cost to my daughter. My poor little girl, scarred for life, violated by some pusher street scum from the city. I, as a father, can't let that go." He looked at me with death in his eyes. I didn't blame him, but if I'd had a gun and a free hand, the man would've been swiss. Unfortunately, it was about to be the other way around.

  Red ushered for the door and two others joined us.

  The man in the white robe. He was the piss drinker that pointed me out. How'd he know who I was?

  The other was the leader from before, the grizzled, burly man with a spotty beard. His coveralls were rolled down to his waist, exposing a stained work shirt beneath, stressing to contain his laborer's muscles. This guy didn't look like a bodybuilder from T.V. No, just a bear in a man's costume. They were gonna beat me into pulp.

  Feeling danger, I strained against the ropes, pleading, "Wait. Wait. This is not right. I didn't do anything to your daughter. I didn't do any of this. Bring her here. Ask her!" I thought Red was going to cave my skull in.

  "I'm not gonna bring my little girl here to face you." Fuck. The chances were good that I was about to die. This can't be the way I go out. Come on, you fuckers. Give me a chance. I didn't do this... I couldn't.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  The night eluded me still, but there was no way that story was correct. If I was that braindead... Something wasn't right.

  "What do you want us to do Red?" The big man asked.

  "I don't know. Murph. Can't let him walk away."

  "No we can't," Murph solemnly agreed. Red clicked his lips.

  "Nel? What do you think?"

  "Don't know. Looks like a LowDowns scumbag to me." At least I'd been promoted. "I say cut him and dump him." Fucker.

  "I don't want to kill anybody. We'll tune him up a bit, for Margo, then we'll toss em to the Locals." The locals were the local resident police force, people I'd never met, but heard plenty of nasty rumors about. Because there was no law this far out, people took matters into their own hands, and lawbreakers were usually dealt with all the same. Death.

  "I'm with ya, boss," Murph said throwing a pitying and disgusted look my way. He's the one that knocked my tooth out.

  Meanwhile, Nel opened the latch box on the table and looked inside. His face flashed. I knew that look. His eyes lit up like a junkie's on a free drug parade. He's a user.

  The other signs fit. Thin, squirrely with red eyes and scratch marks on his neck. This guy is a scab.

  Scabs were lowlifers who took whatever they could to drown out the world. It didn't matter who they stole from or who dealt them what. Scabs just wanted drugs, and they'd do anything to get them. This one looked a bit different, though.

  His head was completely shaved. And the white robes he wore… I think they were some kind of religious thing. Something special to the BorderZone. The details were lost to me.

  He shut the case like he didn't trust himself.

  "Red," he started. I could hear it in his voice, the trembling of someone wanting something. "We should just cut his throat. Don't want the Locals looking in on us with this stuff here."

  "I don't want his blood on my hands," Red argued, "Even if he deserves it. We're not the same kind of people."

  "I'll do it. It's safer this way," the squirrely man tried again. If I get my hands on you...

  "That's not the point, Nel. We're gonna do it my way–" Suddenly, a door crashed open somewhere in the building. Heavy steps. All three men looked out of the room at an unseen speaker.

  "Dad! Dad!" A woman's voice called out.

  "Margo! Stay out of here!" Red yelled, leaving the room. The other two trailed behind him, leaving me alone. I could hear them in the other room.

  "What are you doing here, Margo?"

  "Is he here?" A pause.

  "Yeah, we got him in the other room. NO. You're not seeing him."

  "I don't want to, Dad. It's just, I think someone followed him here. There's a couple of scary looking guys down the street. They're going to door to door, asking weird questions." My ears perked up. Was it Chuckles and them?

  "What did they look like?"

  "Scary." That sounded like them. But it can't be. Slag is out. I'm at the OutPost. No one knows where I am. Whoever these guys were, it didn't matter. I was alone.

  I wrestled at my restraints some more, trying to kick the leg out from the chair, anything. How the hell did I end up here?

  "Alright," Red declared, "Murph, get the boys. Tell em to get ready for a fight. We're gonna find these punks. Let's go. You stay here Margo. And stay away from this room."

  "Yes, Daddy." Suddenly, the voices and heavy boots thudded their way outside.

  Then it was quiet. I strained to hear anything. The faint bark of a far off dog. Still air. Nothing. How was I going to get out of this? Suddenly, the careful sounds of footsteps... headed to this room.

  I prepped myself for something bad. Probably Nel, the addict, coming for my stash.

  Instead, a woman crept out from the entrance. A curly head of hair with freckles lining her cheeks and deep blue eyes met me. She was in a blank jumpsuit with a company logo on the side.

  The woman scampered through the room as quietly as she could, rushing over to me.

  "Who are you?" I asked, miserable. Someone else who wanted something from me?

  "It's me. Margo." My stomach soured.

  "You." I said, letting out all of my misery.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered through worried teeth. There was a pause as her eyes looked me over. "They messed you up."

  "Yeah, they did. You're the woman from that night?"

  "Yes. You were pretty fucked up. I'm not surprised you don't remember."

  "What is this? What are you doing here?"

  "I'm– I can't let them do this to you. I'm gonna get you out of here but we don't have a lot of time."

  "Get me out of here? Why?"

  "I don't want to see them hurt you. Not over what we did." She inspected my restraints.

  "What we did? I don't remember anything from that night."

  "We got drunk and took something together. I sobered up pretty quickly. You were hard on your ass all night. Stole 20000 dollars from my father to blow on something. Apparently, we tried to get married."

  "Now I'm here in ropes."

  "Yeah, sorry about that. I told my father some pretty nasty things to save my ass."

  "He told me you said I took advantage of you."

  "I made it up." I coudnt believe it.

  "I fucking knew it! You lied to him to save your own ass?"

  "I told my father that story because we stole the money. You told me you were from the city so I figured you'd be long gone by now."

  "Are you fucking serious? So all of this was nothing? You gotta stop your father. You gotta tell him the truth."

  "No, I can't. He'll kill me."

  "He's going to kill me. When he gets back. They're gonna beat the piss out of me and toss me to the Locals."

  "No, he won't." She shoved a knife into my palms. "There's an exit to the back. Take a left from this doorway."

  "What? What is this? Untie me."

  "I can't," she said hurrying back to the door.

  "What the fuck do you mean you can't? Untie me. Don't leave me like this."

  "I'm sorry. For everything." She gave me one final look before she disappeared. I sat seething and confused, unable to process how I felt about any of this.

  "Fuck!" I cried out in frustration. Gripping onto the knife like it were a key, and I was trapped in a very dark, very deep, dungeon, I started cutting into the rope with desperation. I'll have to do it myself, then.

  "What a fucked up situation," I said to myself as the knife started through the ropes.

  "It is indeed," a raspy voice broke out, freezing the blood in my veins. I stopped cutting.

  It was Nel. He stepped through the doorway, heading straight for the case. Knew it.

  I kept myself calm, cutting slower into the knot so he couldn't see my arms moving. Nel opened the case and rummaged through the contents curiously.

  "You have quite the stash here. I'm assuming Red wants to use it cover the losses he suffered giving you that money. But I don't think he knows what he's doing. Probably lose it all."

  "I could smell it from a mile away. You're a junkie," I said. He snapped his head up at me.

  "You should. You people made me." He closed the case and latched it, prepping it for removal.

  "So what is this? You're gonna take it, instead? How's that help Red?"

  "Red can't be helped. He showed his colors when he listened to you. Wasting good meds isn't gonna help anybody."

  "What happens when he comes back and finds out you took it?"

  "Don't care. I'll be gone. Sick of this OutPost, scrapper life. Corpos can stuff themselves with lead and die. In the meantime, I'm gonna live high for a while." Sensing an opportunity, I took it.

  "Go ahead. Take it all. I've got more. Get these ropes off of me, and I'll give you all you want." He smiled, deviously.

  "I'm sure you would, for a price. But then, what says you won't cut my throat when you get the chance? I'm sorry, old boy, we both know I gotta do you before I leave this room." Well, that didn't work. He slipped a sharp blade out of his robes, something crude he'd made himself. My heart rate quickened.

  "That's nice stuff you have there. I haven't seen anything like that in a long time. They don't have much premium content out this far. I'll have to make it last."

  "Wait," I croaked as he drew near with the knife. The rope wasn't cut through yet. Come on. "Don't."

  My mind wasn't focused on words anymore. The knot was almost done. I'd have to be quick about my business before anyone came back. Out through the door, and out the back. I kept repeating. Then quick as I can through the alleys. The knot was a tough little bastard. Would I make it in time?

  "Red's a good boss," Nel said, "It's a shame to part ways like this. But I'll do right by him. I'm gonna cut your throat," he said without much emotion, "But first, I'll make sure to cut you up nice and right, just for him." The man smiled with gritted teeth, what was left of them.

  The gleaming blade was near. With it, Nel intended to do something very nasty to my face--

  But just then, the knot gave way; my wrists were freed. Without hesitating, I turned the knife and jammed it hard into Nel.

  The blade stuck clean. It penetrated the man's buzzed skull, digging in right behind his eyes, piercing through skin, bone, and more.

  The knife dug to the hilt. Nel's face went blank, his own knife dropping from his hand. A seizure shook his corpse before he fell to the floor with my blade in his head. Shaken, there was a pause as I watched him go down. I hadn't epxected to hit so cleanly.

  Time to go. Then, I kicked myself off the chair, grabbing my coat and slinging it onto one arm. Next: the door. I bolted for the exit, before going back for my case. Grabbing the handle I yanked it to me. Then I was off.

  Through the door and to the left.

  The sun was blinding when it met me, cutting through clothes waving like jellyfish arms on a hanger wire. Behind the wires was a large wooden fenced area and buildings beyond that. An alley stretched to either side.

  …but I had also just stumbled onto a pack of workers smoking cigarettes by the wooden fence. They took one look at me and, with wide eyes, realized who I was.

  "Shit," I spat and darted down the alley before they reacted.

  "Hey!" They yelled out over the buildings, "Hey! He's escaping. He's back here!" Then, their footsteps tracking me.

  I slung the box over a nearby fence and climbed it, jumping down to the other side and out to my freedom.