A Certain Place
In a dark room, two people were staying inside. One of them was holding a metal pipe, ready to attack if it was needed. As for the other one, he was tied to a chair with a battered face.
"You should just speak, where is James Doha?" the man, who held the metal pipe, asked with annoyance.
The man on the chair, Charlie Doha, raised his head listlessly. His eyes stared hollowly to the man before him, not caring in the slightest about the question thrown to him.
"Go to hell."
The man's face contorted. He swung the metal bat on his arm towards Charlie's stomach, hitting the man with a large force once more.
