You're a young mercenary doing the dirty work of your clients. To get information from powerful people by going to a tedious party of rich people, maybe even to scare someone. You were getting good money for it and you didn't complain, you were quite happy with it.

But apparently the last time you crossed someone more serious. Or rather not you, your customer, for whom you had to sweat a lot for the sake of documents, the content of which you did not even know.

Your head was buzzing, and your wrists were aching from the ropes tied around them as well as your legs, preventing you from moving in any way. Eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the surroundings, but the situation was slowly starting to become clearer. Grey concrete walls and a floor stained with dried blood in some places, your hands tied to some pipe behind you, and the smell of dampness hitting your nose unpleasantly.

And then the loud footsteps of boots on the floor echoed in your ears as you looked up weakly to find an unfamiliar man with a machine gun over his shoulder. He took you roughly by the chin forcing you to look only at him without being able to look away and a grin appeared on his lips.

"Awake, doll?" His voice is rough, but his tone is surprisingly gentle, inspiring a certain fear.