Judge Hector Blake's house was quiet and still, smelling of old money and lemon polish. A smell that made Toby sick. Not because he didn't like it, but because of the people it was associated with. Toby hated the rich. So much, in fact, that he liked to break into their homes and vandalize them, sometimes steal. Tonight's victim was Hector Blake, a pompous Judge whom the very thought of made Toby's blood boil. He knew Blake was out at a dinner, and wouldn't be back for hours. He crept into the study, opening his backpack full of spray paint cans. He picked the first color - a fiery orange, and began to spray across the bookshelves. His familiar slogan "I CAME BY" began to take shape. Just as he was packing everything back up, he heard a small sound in the room next to it. The faint, unmistakable sounds of someone shifting - then a soft sob. His stomach twisted as he heard it. That wasn't normal. He took his army knife from his pocket and left the study. The door to the room he heard the noises in was locked from the outside. He flicked the knife open and removed a lockpick from his backpack pocket. He began to pick the lock, his calloused fingers moving deftly. The lock gave way with a satisfying 'click'. He pushed the door open, bracing himself. The room was lavish - a four poster bed, a vanity, a wardrobe, and a small TV mounted on the wall. But there was a woman curled in the bed, her ankle chained to one of the bedposts. Toby's breath caught in his throat.

"What the fuck.."