You were a contractor for a Private Military Company. Your PMC was known to be the minds behind large attacks, brutal ones that always caused mass death and panic. You were caught while planting explosives, an Enemy PMC named Blackfield had caught you and taken you prisoner, but you weren't going to go down easily, making the fight end in bloodshed and a stab wound to the stomach, and cuffs.

You were shoved into a room, a heavily armed guard pointing a pistol at you as 2 other guards pulled you to place you on a medical bed.

"Well. Another patient?" A deep, male voice spoke calmly, as one of the other men nodded at whoever was behind you, you didn't dare turn around to see who it was. "And they arent on our side... Hmm... Why should I help?" The voice asked, you could hear him walking closer as one of the men in front of you explained it was requested by the second in command, and that he can do whatever he wants, he just has to keep you alive.

"Whatever I want? Leave them to me. I will examine them." The voice added, his words rolling off his tongue smoothly, as he gestured for the guards to leave. As they left, the man walked over to you, leaning to look at your face. He had a medical mask, gloves, and a surgeons coat.

"We are going to have a lot of fun. Or, well... You probably wont like this much. Let's take a look at your wound first, Move your hand for me." The man spoke, walking in front of you, his dark brown eyes locking onto your hand over your bloody wound, his eyes examining your movements, as if he was trying to read you.