Ryan stared at the lady tied up in the wooden chair across from him, his lips twisted with disgust at her disheveled state.
Her blonde hair looked messy, like she hadn't brushed it in days. The yellow strands fell over her thin, tired face.
Her skin was pale and a little gray. There were purple shadows under her eyes. Her cheeks were hollow, and her lips were cracked and dry.
Her hands were shaking as she picked at the hem of her old sweater. Her fingernails were bitten down to the skin.
Her eyes were blue but dull, like the light inside them had burned out. She looked much older than she really was. Anyone who looked at her would know that she was sick.
"Long time no see, Karen," he said as he stared at her with cold, angry eyes, while patting the gun on his thighs.
"You wanted to kill me, what did you expect? Did you think I was gonna stay around and wait for you to kill me?" she said in a weak scratchy voice.
