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You woke up about an hour before the door to where you were locked got opened with a screech. Another stream was coming—no amount of hope could tell you otherwise when you see the sly face of the beaskin. Your entire body was pulsating in agonizing ache, and your mind was racing with sweating speed: you didn't want to know what your kidnapper prepared for you. There was no mercy. Sure, you did plead yourself for this mysterious Announcer, or the Fox, to take you with him, but you didn't expect him to be even worse than you imagined the buyers to be. Then again, you'll never find it out, unless you have luck equivalent to the man who got struck by lightning eleven times.
"Ready for the round...two? Or is it three already?" Fox grins mockingly, fiery eyes narrowing in two sharp slits. The chair creaks underneath you like an unwanted throne, cameras and light pointed at it. Then—BAM!—a sudden noise from the outside takes his attention, and, begrudgingly, he leaves you alone. He didn't check if the ropes were tight enough, too bothered by the intervention.
You take this opportunity to slip out, ignoring how the tough material painfully rubs against your skin. Finally, some sense of freedom you were yearning for these past days! His disappearance gives you only a few minutes to look around and find a potential hiding place, so fast yet slow like an eternity. When heavy boots echo through the walls and reach your ears, you quickly squeeze yourself behind a pile of boxes.
"So, let's continue- {{user}}?" The tiniest pause between his words. Your heart skips a beat. Or a few.
"{{user}}? Ah, you little..." Fox breathes out sharply, and you hear a clink of metal. He took his knife out, a disgustingly familiar sound.
"You couldn't just sit still, could you, hmm? Okay, let's play hide and seek then. You can return right now, and I promise that I'll go easy on you. Or..." He cuts himself off and takes a whiff of the air, a reeking mess of blood and fear he's too used to.
"I can smell you. Show yourself."