A man begins to wake up and can't see much of anything. He's dripping in sweat and recognizes the feeling of his best suit against his skin. As he tries to move forward he realizes his wrists, ankles, waist and throat were all tied to the chair. The man begins to wonder exactly where he was and what was going on when he hears,

"Oh good, you've finally woken up."

It was a strange voice he had never heard before and it was hard to concentrate through the music playing in the background. He could feel the hood lifting from his head and began to feel strangely relieved. He tries to sit forward again but his neck was securely held in place and there were planks of wood to his left and right blocking all peripheral vision.

"Let me know when you're done struggling," the man's voice was very relaxed but something was off. The Captor sighed and there was a clear distaste for what was going on, but the Captive man didn't care for his signs of remorse. He tried to scream for help only to realize nothing was coming out and he started to cough from the pain radiating from his throat.

The Captor then spoke up, "I've cut your vocal chords, sir. We stitched you back up as well, but it'll still be sore and very painful to try to scream or talk." The Captive man then heard him sit down next to him. He began to think back to the last thing he remembered and it was being thrown out of a casino in Detroit. He didn't have the money he owed the bank that he promised when things were going well, he lost his house putting mortgages on it to play the lottery, and then lost the money he got from hocking his father's precious pocket watch at the casino. He began to see why he had been taken, but wasn't sure why a bank would go so far.

"I've been following you for days now and I find great discomfort in having to do what I have to. I want you to understand I know why you did what you did, but that bank that you failed to repay warned you they had my employer's backing. You're going to pay him back now, regardless of the circumstances, but I'm sad it has to be this way." With short and irregular breaths the Captor began to speak faster. "I've met your wife and your lovely daughter, they're going to be okay and they believe you found a job for my employer and we'll be shipping them your pay checks. No one will know your involvement as the victim in this and if you haven't picked up on that smell you will shortly smell gasoline. We're in the theater and you'll be enjoying Almost a Honeymoon."

The captive man's hands stopped trying to measure how far they could reach, slowly lowering as he seems to accept his fate.

"When you're done trying to think of a way out, my acquaintance will retrieve a meal for you. Tap the chair when you're ready, and then extend just one finger for spaghetti, two for roast beef, or three for the lamb. Tonight is all about you, and I'm going to help you go in peace. The insurance company will cover your death, we helped your wife put together a nice insurance policy on you because dock work in Boston is killing lots of men nowadays."

The man sat back and began to watch the play, when he felt hungry he started tapping the chair. To his disbelief, the third man actually did bring him food and began to feed him. The man enjoyed the play as he sat there and ate what he believed to be his last meal. When Basil appeared as if he was about to sleep with Dodo, he felt a drop of water on the top of his head and heard a prayer. As the man began to take a deep breath, he could now feel the bag was now soaked in gasoline. Shortly after it was attached to his head he felt a pinch in his arm. Everything began to go dark and everything app...eared... to... slow... down.

The captor then began to attach some wet gloves to the man's hands and the bag came off again. The man in the chair's teeth were being removed but it didn't hurt for some reason. The bag was placed on his head once more and they sprinkled some gasoline on his suit and one of his ankles. Finally, the man in the chair stopped breathing so the two men pushed his chair over the balcony. It came to a sudden stop as the two ropes stretched as far as they could. With the chair dangling in the air, the Captor took a match to the one rope that had been soaked in gasoline. The fire spread down the rope and lit the body before spreading to the other rope that had been soaked in water, eventually causing the chair to fall. They threw flyers provided by their employer off the balcony and watched them flutter down from the balcony before walking away.

The next day the newspaper read that two unidentified men burned a man alive so badly the body couldn't be identified. There were reports the flyers said "PAY WHAT YOU OWE" but the police confiscated all of them and refused to comment. The Captor was now standing in the back of a warehouse, collecting his money from his employer. As he gets out of the warehouse he turns to his accomplice who asks,

"I know the cut was nice and all, but I knew your dad. Is this what you think he would really want you to do?"

The Captor sighs and whispers in his ear, "I don't know, but he probably wouldn't want me to do this either." He then pulls the other man's gun out of his pocket and shoots the man in the stomach, "Must've been a misfire, tough break guy. Should've learned to not keep it loaded." The Captor throws the man's gun on the ground near him and takes off his gloves. While slowly walking away, he mutters to himself, "This better be enough to have him killed..."

Well, I for one cannot help but wonder where the mob would find a man with sufficient surgical skills to remove vocal cords. Not saying it couldn't happen. Just saying it would. Be unusual.

but, then, I suppose, this is a strange life. Indeed, as my friend Mr Mojo Risin' said, this is the strangest life I've ever known. 

First I would like to say thank you for asking because it'll possibly clarify things for others and questions are always welcome. As for the notion he could perform a basic surgery, nothing any character said is guaranteed to be true. If you feel it's not more realistic for him to be able to perform that kind of surgery I can only suggest you choose not to believe him. He could've taken him by a surgeon on the payroll, performed the surgery himself, just numbed specific throat muscles and told him the throat vocal chord was cut, or a million other things. This story was told switching from the victim's perspective with some third person mixed in because of the short story restraints on background information (I struggle to call it a short story because it still ended up being rather long for a MR short story), so anything he perceives isn't even guaranteed to be real.

Perception is important.

Let's discuss that. I perceive your bloodline to hold grudges. What's your perception of that? 

What does your question have to do with the topic at hand? Besides just trying to take an out of the blue and awkward stab at this man. This topic isn't about grudges nor did he make it seem that way.

Seems kind of uncalled for if you ask me. Why try to nitpick a fight? I don't see him trying to start it with you. In fact, I seen him give you a very thorough, logical, and polite answer.

My bloodline does hold grudges and that's public information. Every bloodline uses the information they have on others to formulate an opinion, I'm just not willing to put in the effort to hide my dislike for many bloodlines. If you want to have a discussion on holding grudges or how to harass players by mail using your CAs to circumvent the mobmail ignore feature then I must ask you start it elsewhere because this isn't the right place for that.

WHATWOULDWHEREWASIDO does not hold grudges. He is a sweet sweet man who loves to talk for hours and hours and go for walks on the beach at sunset. He also likes hugs from strangers.

As for his story, it is what it is: a story. 

WHATWOULDWHEREWASIDO goes and gets a wrench, hits the back of SpikeSpiegel's head with it and then strolls away mumbling,

"No one tells people to hug me and gets away with it..."