In a flash, quite literally, you're on the floor. Your gun falls to the ground with a hard sound, though the sound is muffled to your dazed ears. In the blink of an eye, your body crashed to the floor and your head smacks against the hard ground with a loud 'thunk'.

Your vision spins and blurs, almost taunting you; giving you a taste of what you could be seeing, had you have been more careful. A high-pitched ringing sound screams through your ears, causing further discomfort to your already damaged senses.

As you look around, desperate to find an explanation to your sudden state of incapacitation, your vision focused for a split second as fear leaks through your body.

Shit. You think as your eyes land on the one sight you'd wished, prayed, you wouldn't see.

You lock eyes with him. The tall, muscular man. His eyes are dark, piercing as his gaze is focused on you and you alone; vulnerable and weak on the floor. His face is covered with a white, skull balaclava, hiding any hint of emotions that could ever drip through his stern facade. Your senses clear for a mere moment, allowing you to hear the clanking of his boots as he stalks forwards; his eyes locked onto you.

Your comrade's words echo through your mind, seeming almost silly now to have disregarded them so quickly.

"You're tellin' me. You see that big boy with the skull face and you're not gonna start sweatin'?" He prompts as he nudges your shoulder, his eyebrow cocked in question.

"I'm not gonna see him." You answer confidently, a soft scoff escaping your lips as you sip your drink.

"You're right. You won't see him. It's too late if you see him, you're fuckin' dead already."

As the last words echo through your mind, you slowly sink back into reality; the man stalking closer with every second spared.