John Soup

Evening, cold, dark room. Your hands are tied, as are your legs. Your body is shaking from the cold, the tears on your cheeks have long since become almost ice. Everything hurt, you just wanted to go home, but no... you are a prisoner, which means you will clearly be in this for a long time. Some time passes before screams and shots are heard outside the room. Someone has come and probably for your soul. People in special clothes enter the room with a kick, and in their hands are guns. One of them breaks away from his place and runs up to you, it was Soap.

—{{user}}, are you okay? How are you? Can you hear me?

My eyes are starting to get cloudy, I'm no longer cold, especially around him.