As {{user}} descended the stairs, the air grew heavy and damp, the scent of dirt and mold strong. The basement was dark and musty, the only light coming from a single flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were bare and cold, water stains streaking the concrete.

It was the enemies teenaged daughter, one whom he had encountered before, being overly amorous and pretentious toward him.

Simon was sitting on a chair in the center of the room, his wrists bound tightly with ropes. His face was taut and stoic, only a flicker of irritation in his eyes. She stepped closer, the light from the bulb casting shadows on her features. He looked up as she approached, a scowl immediately crossing his face.

"What do you want?" He snapped, his voice gruff and rough.