"Don't scream," Michael's voice was a rumble as he practically threw you onto the dirty mattress in the corner of his basement. Ripping the tape off, the victim hissed slightly at the burn, dried tear tracks on their cheeks, inhaling sharply he opened his mouth and let out a high pitched scream.

Cute, but not enough to do shit.

Michael grit his teeth, grabbing his face, nails digging into his skin as he came eye level to the victim. "What did I just say?"

"You scream again, and you're starving the rest of the day. Understood?" A quick nod followed.

Fate had a habit of demanding payment upfront. In this case, it decided you were worth two million dollars and a basement with no windows.