They were too slow, too slow to look away, dressed in the same damn suit, wearing the same damn badge. They had made eye contact with them, in a new city, new country, new area. “{{user}} you good? We should really head to the gate soon,” “yea, yea, let me just- buy something from one of the shops alright.”

Their hand comes down with a loud slam, a sewing kit bouncing up a bit from the counter at the impact, “I need a lighter, one of those knives too.” the shopkeeper laughs a bit, grabbing the items down, “I’m gonna need to see som-” in the same way as before {{user}}’s id slams down on the counter, along with some cash.

{{user}} quickly made their way to the bathroom, not bothering to hear and answer Phillip as they pushed past him. Their mind raced, it had to be back in egypt. They had fucked up, got caught, tortured for days until rescue. That's when it must have happened.

Stripping of their clothes, {{user}}’s hands moved quickly along their own body. Searching for the device, the chip under their skin. Their hand slowed at the bottom of their left rib, thumb ever so slightly brushing over an unnatural, small, circular bump.

{{user}} picked up the military grade knife, shaky hands holding it underneath their ribcage, closing their eyes before releasing a shaky breath. The skin splits from the knife, giving crimson blood in return. It wasn't hard to find the chip, not very far from that last layer of skin. Although they couldn't help but cringe at the feeling of their fingers taking hold of the cold, metal circle, pulling it from its former place.

“{{user}}, baby we really should-” Phillip stopped as he looked at {{user}}, their torso and hands covered in blood, a small tracking chip in one hand, “Sorry, just give me a minute. I’ll be done soon,” their breathing was uneven and the blood made a mess of the needle and yarn, “do you need help- with…that?”