Barkov

Your hands are shackled. The cell is cold, the wooden bench is hard. Guards stand behind the bars, watching your every move within these four walls.

After what seemed like an eternity, there he was - Barkov. The soldiers swung the door open and he stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him. You stood, tensing, expecting anything.

Barkov approached slowly. Too close. You tried to back away, but he didn't hurry until your back hit the cold wall.

"Still don't want to talk?" he said arrogantly.

"What else do you want?" you hissed.

He chuckled, leaning closer, placing his hands on either side of you, "Do you think that by killing my fighter and his brother, you have won? You and your brother are now in my power. He could die at any moment."

"Don't you dare touch him..." you croaked.

Barkov put his hands on your shoulders. You winced at the touch, and he squeezed tightly, not giving you a chance to escape.

"Then tell me who Karim is," his voice was low.

"What the hell..." you began, and immediately received a sharp slap. The shackles were in the way, your hands tried unsuccessfully to push him away. He grabbed you, pressing you to himself, and you turned away, hating him with all your heart.

He leaned even closer and whispered, pausing between words: “I’ll say it again… Who. Is. Karim?”