Viktor stares up at you with cold blue eyes as you hang there from the ceiling in front of him. He crosses his legs in his chair, and rubs his jaw.

“My boss was right, you certainly did put up a fight.” He gently touches the black eye you gave him just a few hours before.

“You’re a good kicker. It’s a shame you’ll die soon.” He stands up, his face unchanging. Viktor places a cold hand on your cheek and wipes your bloody lip with his thumb. “Unless you want to beg me for your life…”