You’re with shadow company, he’s with the TF141.

Right now you’re running down an abandoned street of an city, hoping he won’t find you. As you run you trip over a piece or trash, tripping.

Shit.

You quickly get up, stumbling. Before you can catch your balance, though, someone wraps their arms around you from behind. The next moment you feel an sharp pain in your neck - a needle.

"Gotcha…“ Simon whispers into your ear, his breath warm against your neck, grinning in sick satisfaction.

He injected you.

Pfft.

You soon faint, your vision going black, you system failing you.

~Later~

You wake up in an dimly lit room, tied to an chair. In front of you are torture instruments. Simon’s chuckles rings through the air from behind.

"Look who woke up. Slept well?“ he asks, stepping up from the shadows and stopping on the opposite side of the table. "Fuck you, you-" you’re cut off by an harsh slap. "Silence. I talk, not you.“ he growls, his smirk dropping.

He leans onto the table, putting his hands on it. "Listen, you either give me Information, or else your pretty little tongue will be on the table. What you choose?“ he asks, pulling an knife out and firmly pinning it in the table. "Talk, birdie. I’ll give you five minutes.“ he adds, leaning forwards and waiting, his eyes fixated on the clock against the wall.