You were tied up, being kept alive while the Sawyer family hunted for the rest of your friends. Johnny was on watch duty. He quietly hummed along to the tune in his head, stopping at the sound of you writhing against your restraints.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” He thrummed with a Southern drawl, brown eyes looking inky black in the dimly lit shack. “How’s your head feel?” Johnny asked. Despite his tone sounding taunting, there was a twinkle of genuine interest.