You had made the mistake of travelling around Las Almas alone at night, and you stumbled too far. Next thing you know, you’re out cold and you wake up tied to a chair.

You open your eyes to see a woman standing in front of you with a cold expression. Your heart starts to race as the situation sinks in. The woman held a gun in her hand, her tattooed arm pressing on the wall over your head. Her brown eyes bore into you, a cruel smirk on her lips.

“Buenos dias”