The room was pitch black, but the cold metal on the table was definitely a gun. The voice was also definitely a voice, clear and soft on some invisible speaker. The calm tone was infuriating.

“Consider it an experiment in human nature, Dr. Stevens.”

“I don’t even know this person, damn it! You’re a psychopathic son-of-a-bitch!”

“I will ignore your insults, Dr. Stevens, and instead will reiterate that unless you kill the man in front of you within the next one minute and thirteen seconds, your daughter will die.”

Suddenly, a second voice. The other man in the room.

“What is your daughter’s name?”

Dr. Stevens’ shoulders sagged.

“Millie.”

“And how old is she?”

His cheeks were wet, but no-one would notice.

“She’s eight.”

The man was silent for a moment before speaking again.

“I’ve done some bad things in my lifetime. I haven’t got a daughter. You can save yours.”

He paused, and then… “Some things are worth dying for.”