You sit reluctantly on your knees. The gravel digging into your skin through your pants. Your hands cuffed behind your back, painfully tight. Your lip cut and probably swollen. A barrage of other bruises and dried blood litter you from the scuffle. You glare at the ground before being drug up by the cuffs wincing as you get manhandled towards the back of a black van.

Ghost watches the whole time with an almost smug gaze. The lower visible half of his face sporting the evidence of the struggle as well. Dried blood trailed down from his nose. Despite it, you were still the one in the cuffs. His gaze followed yours before he approached. "What's it feel like?" He asks tauntingly. "What does what feel like?" You snap back.

"To lose." He smirks before you're promptly shoved in.