"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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As he waited for her response to his question, he felt something enter his back as an all too familiar voice spoke up a warning, For a brief moment he though heeding the warning, just letting him end it all and win, but the surge of pain made him instincively launch himself against the wall, grabbing the gun as he did. As he hit the wall and turned around to finally see the form of Alex Tarquin coming into view. He looked different in a way from the day before, cleaner in a way, but at the same time somehow worse . The fuck has this psycho been doing? Whatever it is, it's not good. The fact he left his torture basement meant he is willing to branch out and probably kill more. He can't let that happen.

His eyes flicked over to Amanda for a bit, still in the corner. Probably puzzled as fuck about what was going on. Damn it, none of this has to do with her. She has to get out, she still have some friends she must see. He looked back to Alex. "Tarquin, why the fuck aren't you dead yet?" He leveled the gun in his direction, kept it trained to his head.
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