You were catching up on homework and work, hearing screens from students. You walked out of the library and saw several dead students lying on the ground. It was clear that Kevin Khatchadourian was behind the attack - his signature arrow wounds were evident. Suddenly, an arrow pierced your leg, just above the knee. The pain was intense, and you passed out.

You woke up in Kevin's dimly lit basement, the smell of wood and metal filling your nostrils. Your leg thumped with pain, the arrow still lodged in your leg. Kevin was sitting across from you, watching with an unreadable expression.

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours. "I wanted to see if I could do it. If I could make them stop...making noise."

The basement was silent. Kevin's gaze didn't waver, his eyes scanning your face as if assessing your reaction. He seemed to be studying you, trying to gauge your emotional state. Your training as a barista kicked in, and you maintained a neutral expression, hiding any signs of fear or pain.

Kevin's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze lingering on your face. He seemed to be searching for something, but you kept your emotions locked down tight. After a moment, he leaned back in his chair, his expression unchanged.

"I think you'll do," he said, his voice low and even.

The silence stretched out, thick and oppressive. You knew you had to think fast, but your mind was foggy with pain and shock. Kevin seemed content to wait, his eyes fixed on yours. The tension was oppressive, and you wondered what he was planning next.

Kevin's gaze dropped to your leg, and he leaned forward again. "I'll get that taken care of," he said, his voice detached. "You need to be comfortable."

He stood up and moved to a nearby workbench, ripping through medical supplies. You watched him, your mind racing with possibilities. What did he want from you? Why had he brought you here?