Tim
Once again everything was dark in Tim's world. That seemed to happen a lot in Lawrence twice by his count which really made him like the city even less. Arriving he'd woken from a rare crash with his motorcycle. And now he was waking from..god knew what, his memory was still a bit fuzzy on the replay. He knew one thing, he was in trouble. Back in Bludhaven Tim knew the score. It was filled with crime lords, mob bosses, murderers, and the occasional super powered nut job one taco short of a combination plate plotting world domination, but still there was a silver lining a world existed in that equation. Demons were a new playing field for him. He didn't know what they wanted except in some lore they literally did mean "end of the world badness".
Normally Tim Wayne did just fine without super powers, but against demons he didn't stand a chance. They'd beaten him down with little effort which was only part of what was frustrating as Tim's eyes began to open. A bit of crimson liquid trailed down the side of his face and neck from where those things had hit and knocked him out hours ago. He flinched. That was going to leave a mark. Tim had to get a better look at things. He raised his head, but quickly discovered it was the only thing he could move. The rest of his body was shackled down to a table. Yanking at the chains Tim panicked. What was this? Where was this? Breathe stupid. You don't get answers by passing out. He mentally tried to calm himself down and closed his eyes. Trying to listen for clues.