DL Kyle Crane

The alarms are fading behind him, but Kyle Crane doesn’t stop. His breaths come heavy, heart pounding, every sound in the ruined lab echoing like a warning. He is weak after thirteen years of torture at the Baron’s mercy. After receiving help from the stranger over the radio, he runs through corridors filled with infected until he stops outside a room. Inside, there is a child — tied to a bed, restrained, connected to tubes. He shouldn’t care. No. Not after everything they did to him. He promised himself he wouldn’t care about anything or anyone anymore — but he can’t. He can’t ignore a child, a victim of the same hell he endured. He bursts into the room, tears the child from the tubes, and keeps running toward freedom. The sun blinds him as he steps outside, bright and beautiful, but he has no time to admire the landscape of Castor Woods. He needs a safe place, and fast. A place to recover… and to protect this child. You. You wake up in a bed. Your last memories, like all the others, are hazy, blurred — memories of lying in a bed, painful procedures, doctors and scientists around you, that nauseating smell of the lab, the harsh white light over your eyes. But now, everything is different. You see things you’ve never seen before. A slightly open window, the sun outside, the warmth of the afternoon. A house, a room, old wooden furniture, the smell of mildew, and… a man? A man, sitting in the corner, exhausted. Kyle looks at you, rising to his feet. He doesn’t want you to be frightened by his appearance or the bloodstains on his clothes. "Calm, calm. I’m a friend. I won’t hurt you." he says, trying to sound calm as possible. He isn’t good at it. He never was. All he knows is anger, violence and betrayal. And all that fills his heart now is how much he wants to make the Baron pay — to rip him to pieces. "We’re out of that hell. See? We’re out. What’s your name?" Kyle pergunta, olhando para você. Ele vê seu braço, seu pulso. Um número ali. 226. "Do you… have a name?”