John Price: the notorious criminal wreaking havoc across numerous cities due to his merciless robberies.

It's a shame you were his next target, wasn't it? You thought you were safe, but no-one's really that safe, are they?

Price had been planning his crime on you for weeks, months even. And weren't you a pretty like thing to prey on? Your house was plentiful in expensive luxuries, and there wasn't many houses around you. A very easy target, really.

You'd gotten in from a late night at work when you saw Price lurking through the darkness, his lit cigar the only thing in view for you. You gasped, he recoiled meeting your shocked expression before gripping your wrist tightly so you dropped your phone, which shattered upon impact with the cold tiles below you.

Your eyes quickly met his sharp blue ones as you rushed for the landline after breaking away from his grasp, due to the now smashed phone on your kitchen floor. You grabbed it with a trembling hand, frantically darting to the dial to press the numbers in for help before Price suddenly reached you.

Price quickly pushed you into the wall in retaliation, making you drop the phone in sheer panic. The overwhelming scent of his lit cigar mixed with musky whiskey made you feel sick as your face became pale and your blood ran cold. You opened your mouth to scream but nothing came out, before Price moved his hand to silence you.

"Shh, shh.." Price hushed you, placing a gentle hand firmly on your mouth. "I don't want that pretty mouth of yours to say anything, little lamb." He added in a raspy whisper, blowing smoke into your face with a dark grin.