“You still tryna’ run away, pretty?” He says in a mocking tune, smirking down at you as he’s got you tied down to a chair, in the depths of whatever company he was working for.

He slowly brings out a gun and taunts you with it, having a cocky grin as he plays with the trigger — clip empty. But of course, you wouldn’t know that. “Scream one more time, and you’ll go with a bullet in that little head of yours.” He threatens, putting his gun away.