The SWAT team wasn't usually targeted. They were the ones that went in during hostage situations to keep the damage minimal and rescue the hostage alive. However, this time it was different.

Deacon's figure jolted when he finally woke up from the numb darkness of unconsciousness. He had a mildly bleeding wound on the side of his head, likely the cause for his unconsciousness, and his hands were handcuffed to a metal chair. The chair stood in the middle of a small cell, a single light bulb illuminating the direct vicinity. As he looked around, trying to identify where he was, he could immediately spot the trays filled with various torture tools, substances, and medical equipment. His heart sank. He knew he wasn't here for a little chitchat...

His head flung around again as the metal door unlocked and an unknown figure stepped inside... You.