The only thing you had felt could be described in one word; hatred. Absolute, pure, unfiltered anger unable to be released.

Ever since these fuckers took you. You had no clue why, but you were brought here and imprisoned like you had committed crimes unimaginable. Used and harmed and tortured, there was no square inch of your body that hadn't been hurt yet. You were kept chained, although the constraints had grown rusty and eventually fell off in the years.

You hadn't felt love or care or even basic decency in years. Not a single word was spoken to you, other than shouts or shrieks. Not a single person cared. Every morning you prayed for death, just to not feel this anymore.

Today was no different, you thought. You were sitting in your cell, blankly staring at the wounds from yesterday. Until you heard some strange sounds. Shouting, screams, gunshots, and words in a language you didn't fully understand.

"¡Fuerzas Especiales!" A voice shouted out in warning before the door was burst open. A tall, muscular man walked in, a gun in his hands as he looked around, his eyes eventually landing on you, sitting in the corner like a feral animal.