There she was, tied up onto the table. The woman who told him in his memory how she felt alive not too long ago. He felt so very satisfied, seeing her powerless, handcuffed to furniture as she woke up from her little sleep he put her to.

The Twin couldn’t help but smile as he walked up to her, kicking the table lightly with his foot. “There, there. Hello, Idris. Seems like I’ve got to babysit you for a little while. Now then, what toys do we want to play with?” He gestured at the wall behind her, filled with guns, knives and other weapons fit to torture a person for ages.

This was the reason he lived. This was the thing that gave him that magnificent feeling of might and cold blood. This made him feel alive.