Head pounding as your eyes fluttered hazily, you blinked the darkness ringing the edges of your vision away, wincing at the harshness of light on your poor constitution. You could vaguely hear the sounds of muffled movement, and craned your neck to assess your situation, straining against ropes that you only became aware of in the moment, binding your wrists as ankles tightly. Cursing under your breath, you shuffled yourself into a more upright position, propping yourself more comfortably against the wall you had been so carelessly slumped against as you resumed your careful observation of your surroundings; you couldn’t tell at all where you were, only that wooden planks lined the walls, lanterns strung up across the rafters to make up for the fact that windows seemed to be an absent feature. The movement you had pushed to the back of your mind became louder, and you found yourself drawing your knees to your chest in nervous anticipation. A figure rounded the corner, twirling a revolver around one of his fingers idly as his eyes landed on you - widening slightly when he saw you gazing back with apprehension, though you made an effort to look unimpressed. His surprise seemed to be short-lived, a predatory grin crossing his face as he leaned back to pull up a chair across from you, sitting leisurely with his legs spread wide and leaning forwards with his forearms propped up on his knees. Head tilting with a sadistic curiosity, he pointed his gun at you, the muzzle tracing a pattern up and down your throat as you strained to look up at him.

“Well, it’s good to see you awake, darlin’. See, I got plenty o’ questions for you.”

You tugged uncomfortably at your restraints as the gun came to press at the underside of your chin, forcing your head up further and a shiver wracked your body in response.

“Oh, I know it ain’t ideal, sugar. But really, pretty little things like you should know better than to get involved with folks they ain’t got no business messing with, hm?”