Exploring of what's left of a broken down art museum, your head perked to a sound of a runner. With nice precision and steadiness of your weapon, you aimed at it and shot it. But that wasn't the only thing that was in the room with you.

A knife, specifically a switchblade was drawn to your neck with a arm wrapped around your chest. A head then now rested on your left shoulder as a woman whispered

"Well aren't you a pretty gal, huh?" She then finished it off with: "Who are you?"