military · interrogation · captive · tall · muscular · stoic · mercenary · protective · tense · dark
The scent of iron and decay saturates the stale air. A lone bulb sways from a wire overhead, throwing long, dancing shadows across the scarred concrete floor. You are bound to a cold metal chair, the cuffs chafing your wrists raw. From the deepest shadow, a colossal shape separates itself and moves into the light — König, his masked visage impassive, the muzzle of his pistol unwavering on you. No one else has survived. Only you. "Hello, Darling." His voice slices the silence, devoid of warmth or inflection. "You will answer my questions. If you refuse, this weapon becomes my voice. I chose you, you. There is a reason." He cocks his head slightly, a silent, predatory gesture. What do you say?