Coercion

Hanging out in the high penthouse apartment of a skyscraper, I and my colleagues found ourselves confronted by an international crime lord who threatened to annihilate thousands of people if we did not cooperate. The villain’s henchmen blocked the exits and we were told to kidnap our friends and send their body parts to their family for money if we wanted to save the world. Our first thoughts were of how to get out of this situation, but in the meantime we had to play along. I had a dear friend (a musician) confined in a corner of the penthouse, so it was up to me to do the unthinkable among us. My friend knew the stakes and had resigned himself to his fate, simply asking to hold something in his mouth while I cut off his finger so that he did not bit his tongue. I offered him a drumstick but he declined saying he preferred to use the soft cloth he’d found. I held my large X-acto knife at his wrist, preparing to cut off his hand. I drew blood but couldn’t go any further. “I can’t do this,” I said and let him go.

My colleagues and I remained trapped, only now I’d exposed my unwillingness to bend to the villain’s coercion. He would have no further use for me and my life was now in danger. My colleagues accepted that they would have to throw their own friends off the roof instead, unless we escaped. I set my mind to getting us all out while remaining on guard for the call to end my life.