Famer's Story-Writing Debate Round #1 Zaradi vs. Drafterman

The basic idea of this debate is that both sides must together write a story. Whoever creates the most interesting continuation/orientation/conclusion of the story wins the vote for "most convincing arguments"Rules of this debate:8000 characters maximum72 hours for time to argue7 days voting periodYes to voting commentsPoints for spelling and grammar are awarded as per usual. There will be no points awarded for sources. However, as the rules of the tournament goes, if any of the debaters forfeits a round (unless both forfeits an equals number of times), they will, by default automatically lose all 7 points as a result. Good Luck! "Title of story: Running out of Time ------ When I came to, I realized that I wasn't in the greatest positions of all time. I was tied to a metal chair, with plastic zip-ties chaining my wrists to the arm rests, my ankles to the legs of the chair, and a large, leather belt constricting my chest to the back of the chair. I was immobilized, and was unable to move in the slightest, save for rotating my head around to be able to view my environment. And view I did, although there was very little to actually view. The room I was in (room, more like a prison cell) was all plain, gray, metallic-looking walls with one window that reflected my sorry mug back at me. Boy did I look like hell; my normally well-kept, average length, sandy blonde hair was looking like half of it had been scorched off, my face looked like some professional baseball player took batting practice on it, a cut roughly an inch above my left eye seeped blood out of it, trickling down past my hazel eyes and down my face. My clothes, a formerly gray tee-shirt and a pair of dark-blue denim jeans, looked like I had pulled them out of a dumpster filled with shards of glass and knife blades. Overall, I looked like I was having an absolutely splendid day. The sound of a door opening suddenly came from directly behind me, the one place I could not turn my head to see, and quickly a blindingly bright light shone in my face from the ceiling. It was not long before my eyes were watering from the glaring intensity of the source, and I had to squint really hard to be able to see anything in front of me. And what all I could see, which admittedly wasn't much, was not very pleasant. Two men stood there. I say men very loosely, as I couldn't figure out their gender from what little I was able to see of them. The first one seemed of average height, with a square face and a grim look plastered all over his face. The second seemed abnormally tall, with a round, overly enlongated face. He didn't look very bright, but from the size of his body, he appeared to be well-built. Definetely two people you didn't want to meet in a dark alleyway in the middle of the night. "Is your name Alex Miller? " the first one asked me, his voice sounding similar to that of gravel being thrown into a blender and being set to 'blend' for an hour. As weak and hurt as I felt, I didn't want to give in that easily, even to a simple question. "What's a name to you? Why do you think that's my name? " I retorted back cockily, a sheepish grin spreading over my abused skin. The fist came crashing into my face at horrifyingly fast speeds, almost faster than that of what a human could possibly ever punch. It felt as if a big-rig truck had just rolled over my face, backed up over it once more, and then ran over it again to make sure that I was in enough pain. My head snapped hard to the side with the impact, but my head was the only thing that moved, since I was pinned to the chair. "Don't play games with us. We know your name is Alex Miller. You're an eighteen year old brat with an unnatural ability. You're an abomination. " the first one said again, his voice sounding like a perfectly blended stone smoothie. 'So that's what they're after. .. ' I thought to myself, already somewhat tired from the constant light into my eyes. It was almost so bright that I could not see the numbers, but they were still there. Partially obscured, but still clearly legible. They were always there, no matter what I tried to do to get rid of them. It was unnatural, but far from being an abomination. In my mind, I thought that they were probably just mad that they didn't have it and weren't as cool as I was. "So if you know everything about me, then what am I doing here? " I asked them, relatively curious as to what the entire point of this capture and interrogation session was for. Again, another swift blow, this time to the solar plexis. I was able to tell that it was the second man delivering the blows this time, but it didn't lessen the pain I felt any more. "You're not the one asking the questions. You're going to answer ours, or there is going to be some major consequences to this. You don't want poor, poor Ryan to be hurt, don't you? "At the mention of the name, the sheepish grin that was originally on my face vanished from the face of the earth. Ryan? How did they know about her? Did they have her? They couldn't have her. Then again, if they knew about her, they probably had her too. He couldn't let any harm come to her, no matter what! "If you touch so much as a hair on her head. .. " I warned them, which only got a hearty chuckle from both of the knuckleheads in front of me. "Or what? You're going to spit at us until we die? That doesn't work. " the first one stated, the bigger one simply laughing. "Yeah, 'wut he said. " he posited, his voice sounding like a stereotypical mentally challenged adult man, deep voice and all. As much as I wanted to get up and beat all of their asses, to make them regret taking me and taking Ryan, I knew I was in no situation to threaten and bargain. I had to do what they wanted, or they would hurt her. I couldn't let that happen. "What do you want. " I grounded out, teeth clenched in frustration and rage. With this said, the bigger one moved out of sight. "Why, that's simple. I want you to recount for me your life story. From start to now. Tell me about you. " he stated, apparently pulling something up and sitting down into it, perhaps a chair or stool? This only just got me to laugh a bit, as I realized what they wanted. They probably already knew everything about me, why did they want to hear it again. "You already know everything about me. Why do I have to tell you anything? " I questioned, highly curious as to the reason for this question. The one guy shrugged, at least it looked like he shrugged. "Don't know. Well, besides the fact that the girl you swore to protect at all costs, even your life if necessary, is in our possession, and we could make her experience rather unpleasant. Or, you could be a good little boy and help out, so that you may even go free. The choice is entirely yours. Personally, I wouldn't mind dirtying up that pretty little face of hers. She's quite the looker, you know. " he threatened, and I knew he had me beat. He could say whatever he wanted, and get away with it as long as he had her in his possession. I was powerless. "Fine, fine. You want my life story? Fine, you'll get it. I'm Alex Miller. I was born in Pampa, Texas with the ability to see time expire with my bare eyes, and this is my story. "