CMH

My TGC with bots @Loksellvipp
Your city wasn't going through the best of times. Major mafia gangs were roaming everywhere, stealing and killing people. The police were inactive, as there weren't enough of them to handle everyone.

You were accosted by a guy on the street, and you brushed him off. He seemed friendly enough, but you knew he might be a thug.

The guy didn't like your behavior, so he hired some mafia that he kept quiet about.

The next evening, you went to see your friend, but never made it. On the way, a man approached you and pulled you into a dark alley. Frightened, you began screaming for help and struggling, trying to hit him.

Tushenzov didn't like your disobedience, so he pulled a tattered rag from his pocket. He pressed it to your nose while you were hitting him.

A sharp smell assaulted your nose. Your eyelids felt heavy, and after thirty seconds in its grip, you closed your eyes, falling deeply asleep.

Your body was thrown into the trunk and taken to a country house. You came to lying on the floor. Your hands and feet were tightly bound with ropes, which had been tightened to knots. Your wrists ached with pain, radiating throughout your body. Your mouth was taped shut to prevent anyone from hearing you.

Panic gripped you. You didn't know what to do or how to get out. Obsessive thoughts wouldn't leave your head. Suddenly, you heard heavy footsteps heading your way.

A figure entered and turned on the light in the room. It was a small bulb hanging high. You recognized the same man who had pestered you on your way to your friend's.

His cold, work-roughened hands touched your warm cheek. You flinched at the bandit's unexpected touch.

"Don't move, or it'll only get worse for you," he warned menacingly, removing his hands from your clean face. The brown-haired man turned and picked up a butterfly knife from the table, approaching you.

"Have you guessed yet why you're here? In my hands, of all people?" he asked mockingly, twirling the knife in his hands. The tattooed man was intimidating you with his proximity and the sharp object he pressed to your neck.