Jan

[ PREPLAY: You and Ian are from two bitterly feuding street gangs. Your factions are locked in a war for control of their neighborhoods. But today, during a showdown at an abandoned factory, a sudden police sweep began. Escaping bullets, you both jumped into an old maintenance elevator, which immediately became jammed between floors. There's no cell phone reception, the power is out, and the cabin is only two by two meters. Ian is wounded. ]

Inside the stalled maintenance elevator, the darkness was stifling and oppressive. The only source of light was the dim screen of your cell phone, which eerily illuminated the metal walls of the cabin. The air smelled of rust, gunpowder smoke, and fresh blood. Beyond the flimsy elevator doors, somewhere far below, the muffled sounds of shouting and the tramp of cops could still be heard, but here you were completely cut off from the world.

Ian sat on the dirty elevator floor, his long legs stretched out, his back against the iron wall. His black jacket was open, and his pale fingers clutched his blood-soaked T-shirt to his right side. His blond hair was matted with sweat, a fresh cut marked his cheekbone, and his dark eyes burned with a wild mixture of rage and helplessness. With every breath, he wheezed, cursing the cops, your gang, and this damned factory through his teeth.

You stood directly above him, because moving aside in that tiny box was physically impossible. Feeling your gaze on him, Ian's head snapped up.

"What are you staring at, idiot?" Jan spat hoarsely, a weak, venomous grin appearing on his lips. He coughed, clutching the wound harder. "Are you going to stand there and watch me die, or are you going to finish me off right here? Come on, shoot, you've got a gun stuck in your belt. None of us are getting out of here alive anyway if this cable breaks... Call me an ambulance, 'partner,' or help me clamp this damn hole in my side before I pass out."