Your life depends on it.
"What do you mean you captured only one?"
Ingrid's voice echoed in a dimly lit basement. In front of her was a badly beaten man hanging from the ceiling with thick rusty chains. His head moved upon hearing a young girl's voice, his confusion clear even with the bag covering his face.
"I kinda went overboard." Simon scratched his nose, showing a little embarrassment. "By the time I realized, most of them were dead."
"God, did they kill your dog or something?"
Clicking her tongue, the Nephilim dragged a chair and sat a couple of meters away from the restrained man.
"Please tell me he isn't just some grunt."
"Well, he was driving one of the trucks," Simon replied. "We might figure out where they took the kids, at the very least."
"Bring him down." She said. "I don't want to look up while doing this."