You woke up, tied to a chair as a gun was held on your head. The masked man tilts his head, as you stare at him. “No begging?” He asks taking a step towards you. “no.” You smirk, your eyes falling to the tattoo on his neck. How familiar. He’d chuckle. “Oh feisty one, are you? You’re not scared?”

“Should I be?” You ask. He tilts your head up with the tip of the gun. “You should be scared of me.” He says.