--[3rd Person]--
"Ughnn…" Samson opened his eyes with a groan and found himself face down on the floor, 'W-what the hell?'
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."
Ramon stepped into Samson's field of view, crouching and staring down at his would-be killer, "Did you enjoy your little nap?"
Samson's body surged with adrenaline, and he rushed to push himself upright, only to find that his hands were tied behind his back with a thick length of rope. There was also another piece of rope around his ankles, up to his mid-calf.
"Careful now, struggle too much, and you might chafe," Ramon cautioned in a casual tone, "Though with how badly things are going for you, a bit of rope burn will be the least of your concerns."
"Why haven't you killed me yet?" Samson asked through clenched teeth while glaring at Ramon with a venom filled eyes.
"And let you get off easy?" Ramon replied, his eyes gleaming with evil as he pulled on a pair of plastic gloves, "Why would I ever do that?"
Samson grunted, unimpressed by the vague threat, "What are you gonna do, torture me?"
"No, no, I'm not that sadistic," Ramon tutted, slowly shaking his head as he moved over to Samson's hands and tore off the gloves he was wearing, "But I am a spiteful son of a bitch who can hold a grudge. So I'm going to make sure that you regret the very moment you decided to interfere with my life."
Taking Samon's hand, Ramon then carefully wrapped his fingers around the handle of his knife and then the grip of his suppressed pistol.
"The hell are you doing?" Samson grunted as he tried to hold onto the gun, but Ramon tore it from his grasp like Samson was a badly behaved child holding onto a toy.
"Making sure you go down for attempted murder," Ramon replied as he stood up, "Now, while I would love to stay around and chat some more, I need to make sure this looks like the real deal."
Samson opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Ramon walked away and moved to stand over by the wall while the gun and knife levitated into the air and trailed after him.
Staring at the spectacle with wide eyes, Samson realized in that moment that he hadn't been imagining it when he felt an invisible force pick him up during their fight, "H-how are you doing that?!"
"Shhh, I'm trying to remember," Ramon chastised as he moved over to face the window, "Now I was facing the window when I heard you run at me from behind, making me turn around, where you tried to stab me."
As he narrated the order of events, Ramon acted them out as well, and when he reached the end, he nodded to himself as the knife floated over, "A shallow wound should do it."
Samson then watched wide-eyed as the knife suddenly lashed out, cutting into Ramon's skin and leaving a red line across his shoulder. "I then threw you across the room before running over to the lights."
Again, Ramon acted out the situation, this time leaving a smear of blood along the wall as he did, "And then when I turned the lights on, you shot at me once, but I think a bullet wound will really sell the story, don't you think?"
Ramon's question was answered by the soft pop of the gun as it went off, with the bullet grazing his shoulder, adding another injury to give his story credit.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Samson asked with wide, fearful eyes as he looked between the madman injuring himself and the floating weapons being puppeted by an unseen force.
"Making sure you go down for attempted murder," Ramon replied as he walked back over to Samson, while making sure his blood dripped onto the floor, "You see if I had just called the cops right off the bat, there was a chance that with a good enough lawyer and a dumb enough jury you could argue your plea down to breaking an entering, home invasion, and unlawful use of a firearm since you only shot once and missed. But now I have two wounds, both of which could have been fatal if I hadn't been so lucky. Especially the knife, since you attacked me from behind when I didn't know you were in the room."
Ramon waved his hands, making the bloody knife drop to the floor next to the chair, while the gun floated over into Ramon's hand, "But you underestimated my strength and got your ass thrown against the wall, where I then wrestled the gun from your hand and used it to knock you out before tying you up and calling the police."
"You did all of that just to make sure a murder charge would stick?" Samson scoffed, "You could have just killed me and saved yourself some stitches and a hospital bill."
"And deprive myself of the chance to randomly remember one day that you're rotting in a cell somewhere for the rest of your miserable life?" Ramon smirked and shook his head, "Yeah, I don't think so. Hey, with any luck, you'll get to share a cell with your boss. Maybe you'll end up as a prison couple, wouldn't that be fun? I was pretty certain that I had enough on him, but now with you, his personal bodyguard, breaking into my apartment and trying to kill me…well, that is the final nail in the coffin."
Samson fell silent, which made Ramon smile all the more as he put down the gun on the counter, his blood slowly drying in the textured grip, "And now the regret starts to sink in, I'll let you get a moment to think alone, I gotta go make a quick phone call and go check on my girls."
--[Ramon]--
I picked my head up as I heard the elevator doors slide open, "Hello, is anyone home? This is the local police. We got a call about a home invasion with someone in need of medical attention."
"Over here," I called out as I stood up from the chair with a towel over each of my wounds. "Also, watch out in the kitchen, there's a guy on the floor."
I looked over and saw two cops staring back at me, each with a very different expression. One was a purely analytical gaze, calmly assessing the situation, while the other stared at me with narrowed eyes.
Staring down at the cop who was sizing me up, I found myself frowning as well, 'Why the hell does he look familiar? You think I would recognize a cop in a wheelchair.'
"Sir, are you alright?"
The other cop caught my attention, and I flashed her a grin, "With the worst case scenario being me never waking up ever again, yeah, I'd say I'm alright."
"I suppose that's one way to look at it," The officer muttered as she walked over to me, "But let's have you take a seat until the paramedics get here and check you out. Joe, can you get the suspect in custody?"
"Already on it, Jenny," Joe muttered as he moved behind the counter with one final look my way, "Though I don't think there's much more we can do, this guy is trussed up better than a pig. But I'll slap a pair of handcuffs on him just to be safe."
"Just be careful when you do, he's a lot meaner than he looks," I warned as Jenny guided me back down in the chair.
"Yet he's the one on the floor, and you're still standing. Mind telling me how that happened?" Jenny asked as she reached into her utility belt and pulled out a pen and a notepad.
"Honestly, I'm not entirely sure," I replied with a furrowed brow.
"Okay, that's normal. I'll help you walk through it. Was there any sound or something in particular that made you wake up in the middle of the night, or were you already up?" Jenny prompted, trying to trigger my foggy memory.
"I-I just remember waking up and feeling that something was wrong," I explained while slowly nodding, "And then I woke up my girlfriends."
"G-girlfriends?" Jenny stammered and looked around, "Where are they?"
"In bed sleeping, or at least trying to get some sleep, both of them are pretty shaken up from the whole thing, but if you want to question them as well-"
Jenny nodded immediately, "That would be for the best, though it can always wait until they're in a more stable place."
"No, it should be fine, Megan, Patty, could you come out for a moment? The police want to talk to you about the break-in."
"We'll be out in a second!"
I heard the bedroom door open, followed by their footsteps, but as they came around the corner, Megan and Patty stopped and stared, not at me, but at the wheelbound cop in the kitchen, "Mr. Swanson?"