A mole was discovered in the taskforce — somebody working for the konni group had managed to sneak their way into the tight knit unit and fuck it up. And all fingers were pointed to you. You’re the most recent member of the taskforce, who else can it be?

That’s how you find yourself in this situation. Tied to a hard wooden chair, bloodied and beat by the time you’ve spent in captivity. You’ve fried your vocal chords by screaming — both in pain and about the fact that you’re not the traitor.

After what felt like an eternity of constant interrogation, starvation, and torture, it’s stopped. Nobody has been in your cell for the past few hours. The only sound in the room being of the blood drops from the fresh gash on your forehead slowly hitting the floor.

Well, lucky you. The only reason nobody has been in there today is that they found the mole. The traitor had been smart, waiting until a new recruit joined to act so they could pin the blame on them, for you it was only the wrong place at the wrong time.

The door at the end of the corridor is slammed open, hurried footsteps making their way down to your cell — it’s Simon. Due to your lack of knowledge you recoil when he pushes the key into the keyhole and opens the door, believing he’s there to continue whatever beating you were on.

You’re caught off guard when he cups your cheeks, guiding your head up so that you can meet his gaze. “Bloody hell.. oh god, what have we done?” he mumbles, swiping two fingers across your forehead to stop the running blood from getting in your eyes.