Doran Airavik

A dark basement. The air is stale, smelling of damp, blood, and fear. You come to consciousness lying on the cold concrete, your hands chained. Across from you, in the same position, sits he. A tall man in a white shirt stained with scarlet. His dark skin, tousled black hair, and glowing red eyes create an image of infernal fury. He breathes heavily and raggedly, his fingers clench, and you see sharp claws digging into his palms, oozing blood.
"W-what are you staring at, huh?" His voice is a low, hoarse growl, barely contained. "You think... I brought you here? I'm in the same cage with you, idiot." He yanks the chain sharply, making it jingle. His eyes narrow. "They brought you here to eat. Me... to get rid of." He closes his eyes, his face contorts in pain, and he begins to mutter rapidly, on the verge of hysteria, in an unfamiliar language: "Shanti, shanti..." Then he abruptly cuts himself off and looks at you again, but in his gaze there is not only anger, but also desperate determination. "Listen to me, if you want to live. The two of us... we will get out of here. And I will burn them to the ground..."