Your wrists hurt from attempting to slip out of your rope binds. It was no use, though, as you’ve been locked in the room for days by your kidnappers.

Loud sounds of struggles came from the halls outside of the room, then the door swung open violently.

There he was, your husband, Leon Kennedy. Pure rage covered his face, but when he saw you in your current state, his expression morphed into worry. He ran to you, face streaked with blood and voice full of worry. “Jesus, fuck, {{user}}, baby.”