Pain.

Dull Pain.

Throbbing pain.

That was all Trevor felt running through his head. A dull and throbbing pain from where he was knocked unconscious. Thoughts and memory hazy. Too much to process right now. Too much to understand.

Where was he? He tried to open his eyes, but saw only darkness. He could feel a blindfold wrapped tightly around his head. He wanted to take it off, but his hands wouldn't move. They were cuffed behind his back. Standing? Yes, he thought. Let's stand. No, sorry, love. His feet were chained to the floor. He could feel vibrations under his feet and heard a constant high pitched whir. A motor, perhaps?

Helicopter.

Something hard and cold pressed against his temple. "Don't move, Slattery". What was that voice? So familiar. That Norriss chap who conducted the "interview". Slattery frowned. He didn't like that man. Not at all. Jackson Norriss, who claimed to be a journalist of some kind, had killed Slattery's butler and warned him of something. What was it? Trevor's head throbbed trying to remember what it was he had no comprehension of.

"…possibly your portrayal has angered some people. Some of them are very dangerous."

Trevor's forehead wrinkled. What had he been talking about? Ten rings?

"…he was a warrior king"

Who? Someone surviving a long time? He didn't seem to care at the time.

"and for that sin you will soon suffer horribly with a hole in your body for every ring of our faith"

Trevor soon started to sweat. Perhaps he started to realize what was happening. But it wasn't that that worried him. It was the fact that he would be reminded of his mistake. And who it was that would show him the error of his ways.