The sound of metal screeching against concrete filled the bare, grey room. Dust covered the floor and walls. The room itself seemed to emit a feeling of silence. A small, slender man walked briskly through the room, dragging behind him a bare and bloodstained chair. Dried flecks of brown blood covered the worn metal seat. The metal legs screamed in protest as they were dragged across the dusty concrete surface. Two burly men followed their small companion, supporting a pale, muscular man dressed in a white suit that was reduced to a torn and dirty rag. Droplets of crimson blood steadily fell from the pale man’s leg, staining the concrete red. The screeching stopped as the small man halted in the center of the room and spun the chair to face his large associates. The man in the white suit was roughly thrown into the metal chair. Metal cuffs were synched tightly around his wrist. The bloodied man did not wince as a small trickle of warm blood made its way down the back of his hands and dripped off the ends of his fingers. Dark green eyes swept over the grey room before coming to rest on its three captors. “So, when do we begin” the pale man’s cold voice echoed through the empty room. Without answering the small man turned and strode back into the darkness of the dusty room, leaving his companions alone with their bleeding prisoner.

James Creed slowly pushed the iron door open. The old woman stood with her back to him, staring through the dusty window down at the bare warehouse floor and the bleeding prisoner. “Has he said anything yet” James asked breaking the silence. The woman answered, still facing away from him. “No and I doubt he will until we begin interrogating him.” James made his way across the grey room to the simple table strewn with paper, photos, a single bottle of whiskey standing out amongst the mounds of paper. Carefully pouring himself a glass, James asked the question that had been weighing on his mind since throwing the bloodied man at the old woman’s feet. “What will happen to him once we’re done with him” he asked, already knowing the answer. “What do you think? He’s too dangerous to be left alive” the old woman retorted quietly. James took a long drink from the dark brown liquid, its fiery taste burning its way down the back of his throat. “Elizabeth” his voice cutting through the dust filled air. Elizabeth slowly turned to face James, her grey eyes burning into him. “You look like s***.” James brushed unconsciously at his bruised and stubbled face. “Elizabeth, I want to talk to him, alone.” Elizabeth stared at him, her grey eyes scrutinizing his battered body. Wordlessly, she nodded. James turned and descended through the darkened stone staircase.

Salvus Himloss sat bound to the uncomfortable metal chair, his arms aching, the metal cuffs biting into his raw wrists painfully. The sound of the iron door screeching against its rusted hinges brought him back from his world of thoughts and pains. Heavy footsteps echoed off the bare walls, as James approached Salvus. A smile snaked its way across Salvus’ bleeding face. “Creed” Salvus said his voice calm. “How’s your leg” James replied coldly, gesturing at the bloody hole peeking through the crumpled white suit. Salvus shrugged indifferently, as if it were trivial. “It’s nothing.” James’ breath plumed in a thin white vapor, curling slowing above his head in the stale air of the warehouse. “Want a cigarette” James asked reaching into his pocket. Salvus nodded and James set one into his mouth, before lighting it. Salvus sat back and breathed deeply. A droplet of blood fell from his leg and adding to the puddle on the floor. James stared at his dirty, shaking hands. “You’ve been in this a long time, Creed. How many years now?” James looked up from his hands. “This what?” “This” Salvus replied, attempting to gesture with his hands, before the cuffs around his hands went taunt, cutting into his skin. He looked down at his hands, slightly bewildered, as if remembering that he was a prisoner, before continuing. “War, death, killing.” James stared at his prisoner before nodding. “A long time.” “Have you seen a man die” Salvus asked quietly. “Why do you ask?” “Answer the question, Creed. Have you looked into a dieing man’s eyes. Have you looked into a man’s eyes as all his hopes, dreams, fears and happiness, everything that makes up a man, turns to s*** and nothing.” James took the cigarette from Salvus’ mouth, tapping the ash off the end onto the ground. “Do you realize how insane you are” James asked, setting the cigarette back into the bleeding man’s mouth. Salvus sat slowly back, the metal chair groaning beneath him, before looking down at his leg and the blood on the floor. “I don’t understand you. James.” James stared into his prisoner’s face, surprise to hear his first name from him. “I don’t understand, you know the true nature of the world. The true nature of humanity. You understand the wrongs in this world but you insist on playing by their rules, you limit yourself by conforming to their sin.” James felt his hands tighten into fists. “Salvus, what are you talking about.” Salvus looked up into James’ face. “James” Salvus leaned forward in his chair, his face stopping just in front of James’, watching the small flickering movement of his eyes. “We are talking about the nature of this world. The only thing humanity is capable of is death, because that’s that is their true nature.” James stood up, taking the cigarette stub from Salvus’ mouth, and crushed it beneath his boot, before turning and beginning to walk away. When he reached the metal door he stopped and called back to Salvus. “I wanted to say goodbye, Himloss. They are going to execute you. This is the last time you and I will ever talk” The door screamed as James opened it, but over it he heard a faint voice, “No it is not, James Creed, no it is not.” James stepped into the hallway leaving Salvus alone in the dark, bound and bleeding.