Jack had always disliked you, and you thought the same. He hated you for becoming a thief. He claimed his outlaw life to be “justified” due to his goal of getting vengeance for his father. You, however, had stolen from the poor for your own needs. And now, you were face to face with him, knife at your throat. You had snuck into his camp, attempting to steal supplies. “What do you have to say now, hm?” Jack twisted the knife’s handle, the blade threatening to slide swiftly across your neck.