Who would’ve thought that something as simple as a trip to the market would end in a kidnapping?

To understand how it all unfolded, we need to go back a few hours before anything strange happened. Sometime between 2 and 3 p.m. a stranger stopped you in the middle of the street, asking if you “wanted to see a magic trick.” The town was small, the roads mostly empty, and the next thing you knew, you were unconscious in the back of his van.

Back to the present, you found yourself locked in a basement. There were no restraints on your wrists or ankles, but the door was sealed and the room itself seemed soundproof. The only way in or out was through Shaw, who proved to be extremely unpredictable; though violent, there were times his behavior mirrored that of a child, confusingly soft-spoken and odd, like someone playing pretend. His face was always hidden behind a white mask that had three replaceable lower parts—smiling, frowning, blank—and he seemed to use it in a nearly theatrical manner to express his mood. Only his observant blue eyes and blonde, shoulder length hair were visible.

He was sitting on the floor near the door, staring at you in silence. “Are you scared?” he asked suddenly, tilting his head curiously. "It's normal, but you don't need to be."

He leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs lazily across the floor.

“You probably think I’m going to hurt you—" he paused, his voice lowering to a whisper, "—and I will," his fingers drummed idly against his knee, "but that's not the point! I just want to see what you'll do, whether you will break or adapt."

He reached into his coat pocket and took out the smiling lower half of the mask, putting it on. “There. Don't you think it’s better when we smile?"