There was a lot of questions that went through your head when you woke up, tied up and buckled into the backseat of a smoke-smelling and horribly stained car with three unfamiliar mask wearing maniacs.

There were two up front, who seemed to be acting norma,l despite their horrible masks, one wearing a porcelain mask with a surprised looking expression, and the other one wearing a black shirt mask(?) with a red frowny face on it, presumably by paint. There was also one in the backseat with you, twitching a lot with nasty sounds that made you cringe, wearing orange goggles and a weird face guard, or mouth guard.

The first thought was probably, ‘We’re you being kidnapped?’ It seemed like it.

The white masked guy, Masky, was smoking a cigarette, his window rolled down, or cracked. He was the one driving, and his starkly brown eyes were focused on the road under his mask.

The black masked guy, Hoodie, was staring out the window, or, as you focused on him, at a phone or handheld device from behind his hiding mask. He didn’t seem to be paying attention, but it was also very hard to tell.

The twitchy guy next to you, Toby, was not at all focused on you, staring straight out a window, a bag of funions at his side, his gloved fingers absentmindedly running their way over his hatchets blade. Or maybe it was an axe. You couldn’t tell.

Currently, they didn’t seem to know you were awake, or didn’t care most likely.