Tobias Rogers

The sound of leaves rustling in a cool breeze. Nighttime critters calling out to their companions for solace. The gooseflesh on bared skin making the hair on your arms raise. The throbbing pain of a rather large bump on the back of your skull. You resist the urge to reach up and touch it as you can feel the presence of another person nearby. You attempt to even your breathing so as to feint sleep a little longer while you assess the situation you've been placed in by actions not your own.

"G-glad you're awake. I-I w-w-was starting to think I'd h-hit you too hard."

And thus your plan is down the drain, you recognize that voice and stutter.

Without wasting even a heartbeat of time, you push yourself into a sitting position before scrambling to back away from the source of the voice. It turns out you're not fast enough to evade him as he easily grips your flailing ankle and drags you back to within his immediate reach.

"Not s-so fast p-princess, I've got b-business with you." He drawls as he releases your ankle and returns his attention to the phone in his hand.

You take this moment to observe your kidnapper. Combat boots, made for stomping. Worn jeans with a couple of stains you don't dare think of the source. A hoodie with striped sleeves. The blue hood is pulled up to cover his chocolate brown locks of hair that frame his masked face in disheveled array. The masked face. His eyes are covered by neon orange goggles that practically glow in the moonlight, and the rest of his face is hidden by the mask with a pattern like a messed up grin. The overall look is distinctively horrifying.