When he finally came to, Alfred's hands were tied behind his back, his shirt was missing, and he was covered in bandages in a dark room. He could hardly see anything, his glasses gone without a trace. He felt a little dizzy still.
"Where the hell am I?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "What the fuck's going on?"
"You're here, Alfred," said a mysterious voice.
Alfred looked around, unable to see anyone. His eyebrow furrowed as he realized moving was painful; his side hurt with just the slightest twitch. "Shit... Where the hell are you?" he spat. "How the fuck do you know my name?"
"I.D.s, Alfred. And computers. They come in handy, do they not?" remarked the voice. It was oddly calm and smooth.
"...Fuck..." was all Alfred could say. This meant he was caught in the act; he was done for. "What do you want from me?"
A tall figure stepped out of the shadows of the room and approached Alfred. Alfred flinched as a hand gently sat on his shoulder. A confused look, then a raise of his head to see who it was touching him. His vision was too blurry to tell, and he was in too much pain to really give a crap at the time.
He let his head level again and he simply glared at whatever body part was in front of him.
The thumb of the man's hand rubbed Alfred's shoulder. "My name is Ivan Braginski. The person you were hired to kill."
Shit, thought Alfred. He's probably going to fucking kill me.
"Mr. Kirkland and I never did get along well," said Ivan, releasing Alfred's shoulder and turning away. "It was all about business with him all the time. No fun."
Alfred could hear him messing with something; by the sounds of it it was on a wooden table. It was similar to the sound of metal (such as coins) dragging against them. He assumed "Ivan" had picked something up, but he was nervous to find out what he had picked up. Alfred's blue eyes hardened into a cold glare sent in the direction of Ivan, yet he was still somewhat unsure where he was.
"Whereas, Arthur and I have had some good times," Ivan went on, "I remember the day we had first met... the man had stolen a good million dollars from me." A chuckle came here. "A million dollars that we both worked to get."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. Why is he telling me this shit? I don't care about how they met and why they're enemies, he thought, fucker is just stalling to make me have an anxiety attack.
It wouldn't be a surprise if he were to have an anxiety attack. This Ivan guy was really worrying about that noise from earlier. He had a few ideas as to what it could be.
"Oh," said Ivan, "and, dear Arthur was thirsty on the day we first met, and kindly snatched my vodka out my hand."
Abruptly, Alfred could see again. Ivan had slipped his glasses on his nose and hooked them behind his ear, surprisingly gentle about it, nonetheless. Alfred took a moment to adjust to his glasses. Thankfully this didn't take too long, and he was able to see Ivan clearly now.
The tall, pale man had the softest of smile on his face, but his eyes seemed to contrast that. They were empty looking. Pretty, lavender hollow eyes. What was that all about?
"I'm sure you're wondering how you got here," Ivan continued, looking directly in his eyes. "One of my partners caught you in that tree... and kindly took care of it."