TOBIAS:
A massive headache surges in my head. I gasp for breath as my eyes try to adjust to the darkness, a vignette of grey in my peripherals. I try to touch the back of my head, but my wrists are tied to the bed I'm laying on. I pull as hard as I can, but I'm making it worst; I can feel the cloth getting tighter. I lift my head to take a survey of the room. It's small: a bed, a toilet, and a door. My heart pounds inside my chest in reaction to my confinement. I try to control my labored breaths, but I cannot prevent the hyperventilation.
I pass out.
xxx
"Tobias. . ." the word lingers.
"Tobias. . ." the word echoes.
"Tobias. . ." A hand smacks my cheek, and I'm brought back to reality. "There you are," the smooth, almost comforting, voice becomes clearer. A dark figure stands over me, my bed being consumed by it's shadow. I let out a muffled grunt, and close my eyelids that grow heavier each second. Another slap stings my face.
"Tobias, what did you do with it?" says the familiar voice. I open my eyes to see Marcus, now sitting on the edge of the bed. I make an effort to jump up, but my hands are still tethered to the bed frame. I try to pull free, but realise it's useless so I throw a kick. It's deflected and I receive a quick jab to rib cage. I wince, and breath hard.
Marcus grabs my jaw and directs my attention towards him. "Listen, son, don't try anything stupid. I don't want to do something we'll both regret." He smiles, revealing his crooked teeth. "Now, I need to know what you did with the serum."
I ignore his question and try to free his grip from my face. He frowns and punches me in the rib cage again. I let out a short yelp and twist in pain. "This hurts me more than it hurts you," says Marcus. I see the sparkle of pleasure in his eyes that I used to see as a child.
"I'll tell you what," he stands up, "Take your time to think this through. I'll be back when you're more cooperative." He walks towards the door. "Oh, and Tobias," he turns back, "It's good to see you, son."