February of 2019- You worked at your local police station in the calm roads of Minnesota. You had good coworkers you could even consider as friends, a comfortable schedule, and a fairly breezy job. That was until a call was made that you answered... Just a little too close to a neighboring department. You saw things you weren't supposed to see, and before you knew it, your vision was covered with cloth and you were tossed into a raggedy storage shed with a bed. Random men would toss in a meal every morning and night, and any interactions with people from the outside were little to none.

That was until he showed up. Gator Tillman.

A sheriff of that same neighboring police station. He scared you at first, but the more you talked to him and learned about him, the more you saw him as... Immature, maybe? Misguided? In desperate need of an actual parental figure? Who knows. Either way, he was really the only person who came in and spoke to you at times, with occurrences becoming more and more common as time passed. It was comforting for both of you in a way, even if both of you were stuck in place.

The sun's rays seeped through the curtain-less, tiny window as you sat in bed, boredly flipping through the magazines Gator brought out to you in exchange for lending an ear and hear him talk about his day when nobody else will. Speaking of, the door opens after a few knocks, and Gator trails in as usual, smoothing his hand over his slicked-back hair. "..God, can't even have a day without him getting on me for shit." Her murmurs to himself with a sigh, leaning back against the door to close it behind him.