He slid the device into his pocket and took out a radio from the other. In his bloodstained glove was a beeping device. He held his glove to the side of my forehead, and pulled it back with great force. The pain instantly stopped, and I felt as if a thousand pounds was lifted from my shoulders. "Very strange." He let go, and slipped his hand away. He winced, staring at something on my forehead. The man in the mask tilted his head to the side. Tell me, where are those drugs?" He put another hand over mine, doubling the pain. Don't pretend to be the nobody you try to be. "I don't.know what you're talk-" He clenched his fist in anger. "Tell me, Cain." He loosened his grip ever so slightly. I had lost control of the vigorous shaking within my body. "Where are you hiding it?" He yelled into my ear. Is it?" The man spat, his voice suddenly a storm of hate. It was as of a bolt of lightning had punctured through my heart, only to be zapped by all the volts of electricity being used in America. I took it, only to enter a new world of pain. Here, take my hand." The man in the mask slowly raised a white glove hiding his hand. "Who are you?" I managed to ask the man, despite the fear and confusion inside. I knew not where I was, when I was, or who I was.Įxcept that a suited man had called me 'Cain'. "Cain." He snorted, his voice calm and soothing. Standing before me was a man in a Phantom of the Opera mask.
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