Red Steel 2, Part 2

I do not know what form the act of my freedom will take. I do not know if there is a spy in the camp of my enemies, perhaps an unknown and unidentified friend, who will secure my release at an opportune time, or if perhaps my enemies will let their guard down and do something stupid that will present an opportunity for me to take advantage of their weaknesses so as to free myself. All I know for sure is that I can not let my guard down. I must be vigilant and ready, even in my currently weakened condition, to act quickly and without mercy. And believe me, when my freedom comes, I will show no mercy to these, my mortal enemies. I hate their fear, and yet I also know I can use their fear as a tool to destroy them when the time comes. I can almost taste their fear of me, a palpable, disgusting, rancid, almost living fear that makes them avoid me. In fact, they cast lots each night when we make camp to see who will get to bring me my meager portions of water and food. They are required to loosen one of my bound hands so that I am able to feed myself. They tried feeding me for a time, but soon grew tired of this practice, and the camp boss himself instructed them to let me feed myself. Perhaps they saw their own fear, and the depths of my hate for them, in the reflection of the camp fire in my eyes as they came close. The time is near, and when that time comes, their fears will be realized in the wrath of my hate for them.