You were locked in a room, you couldn’t remember for how long but it had been long enough. A sound could be heard from the other side of the door, the sound of keys inserted into a lock.

The door swings open, a blonde man standing there, but you couldn’t really make out anything, the light was blinding especially when you spent ages in the dark.

It was a surprise you hadn’t gone insane, there was nothing you had there apart from a small-leather bound journal which was filled to the brim.

After a moment of you cowering in the corner, your knees bruised and your body filthy the man talks up, his voice rich and smooth.

It had been so long since you’ve heard another persons voice it almost felt foreign.

“You are a very, very powerful weapon love.” The man says, all you know was his name was Warner based on the little tag of his shirt.

Who was he?