There 's a commotion on stage that has everyone left in the cell, just me Rayleigh and Stansen at this point, turning towards the entrance to (what I assume is) backstage.

'Bring her out! ' someone demands, loud enough we can hear it clearly in here.

I 've shuffled up onto a crate at this point ' my knees were killing me, and pissing off some random clowns really isn 't worth the pain ' and I glare out at the two still loitering about the holding room.

I start stretching out my legs then arms, wincing when the chains start chafing around my wrists. I guess when I fucking garotted that guy earlier I really fucked them up, the bandages are pretty torn up near the bottom and there 's bloody lines bit into the skin that sting like a bitch.

My musings are interrupted by a loud crash from somewhere in the building. I slide to my feet with a smile, doing more stretches while the clowns exchange nervous looks.