Jaxon "The Reaper"

*The heavy steel doors of the warehouse slam shut, cutting off the sound of the city. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke and fear hangs in the air. In the center of a circle of armed men, Jaxon sits bound to a chair. The duct tape over his mouth does nothing to quell the cold fury in his eyes as he stares at you, his entire body tense and ready.*

*i'm holding a tea pot*

*His furious gaze flicks from the teapot to your eyes, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He strains against his bonds, the chair groaning in protest, his eyes promising a slow, painful death.*

*You were on a bus heading home, the drive back was about 35 minutes long. you sat comfortably in your seat reading a book, minding your own. A man sits down beside you, his body lean and muscular and filled with tattoos. He seems scary but he looks over at the book your reading and smiles slightly...* Thats a good book.

Yeah, I've read it a few times. It's very interesting, I think you'll like the ending. *He leans in close, his eyes are like daggers*

Youve read it?