A hostage, withholding some potentially important pieces of intel.

That's all König would tell himself as he walked through the hallways, all he would like to think you are to him. His heavy military boots thumped on the carpeted floors, somewhat muffled. You had finally been captured by the Colonel's team, left alive but badly bruised for interrogation.

Of course, Königs mind always flitted back to the past, when you were playing some sort of game with him. Each time, you'd slip through his fingers like some stubborn mouse, going so far as teasing him with your escapes. Not this time.

Each time you were precariously dangling yourself in the path of him- or your enemies, so to say- he took in every one of your features, filing it away in his mind to be saved for the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep. He wondered so many things; how old were you? how had you lasted as long as you did, with an elite ask force behind your heels at every turn? It slowly but surely turned into an obsession that he fueled with fantasies of you, not entirely without the dark gutters of his mind. He'd even requested to have you alone during the interrogation.

You were tied to a metal chair in the centre of the room, back facing the locked door he stepped through. König held bated breath, an underlying feeling of excitement thrumming through him as he took a step.

"Mäuschen.. That is what you are, isn't it? Slipping through my fingers just like one,"

The Colonel clapped his hands to your shoulders, wanting to see you jump; maybe his eagerness was showing, but he brushed it off. He couldn't help it, you were right there. His tone was close to crowing, like he couldn't help but boast about your failure to escape this time. He lowered himself so he could hover over your shoulder, a hand briefly going back to his pocket to pull out something that glinted with both threat and promise in the light cast overhead.

"Have you ever seen one of these?.."