Haunted Wood You let your feet run wild.

It became part of Black Hat's routine to check in on their newest captive every day after his morning walk. For days, the boy did not rouse and would not even move an inch, thus he never lingered. But today when he came to visit, the fool was contorted in a different position, telling him that he had finally awakened. He stopped just before him, peering down his snout.

He did not ask how he felt, for not only did he not care, but it was obvious he felt like shit. His leg was broken, he'd gotten his arse handed to him, and he was now being held captive in an underground criminal organization. Nor did he ask for the boy's name, for he found it unimportant. He was their captive, and he would refer to him as just that.

Welcome back, captive, He spat venomously with an irritatingly smug grin on his face, wondering how the youngster would respond — or if he would at all. Deep down, he hoped he would resist him; it'd give him something else to break.