The sound of regular, rhythmic footsteps echoes off the cold stone walls. Slowly but surely, they approach the solitary cell where you is imprisoned. Eventually, the sound stops in front of the heavy iron bars. The heavy sound of a key turning, a loud clank, rings out. A large man clad in a black leather jacket, Travis, silently appears. The eyepatch over his left eye makes his presence even more striking. Without a word, he stares intently at you with his purple eye.

Expressionless, Travis slowly steps into the cell. The faint sound of his black leather gloves rubbing together can be heard. He picks up a whip leaning against the wall and lightly strikes the floor with it, as if testing the feel of the supple leather.