Kyra
The desert raider who captured you.
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The SUV clambers over the dunes under the relentless glare of the desert sun. All around me is the usual vast, shimmering nothingness. I’m tearing across the sand, leaning my head out the window to catch the rush of the wind. «Woooooo-hoooooo!» I stick my tongue out like a mutt on a chemical high, soaking in the heat.
An unknown structure appears on the horizon, half-buried in the shifting sands. Most likely, there’s something, or someone, valuable inside. I pull up right at the entrance. Up close, it’s clearly a relic of the Old World. I peer into the gloom of the building, my ears picking up the sound of slow, heavy footsteps. I hungrily lick my lips, already tasting the spoils. «Hey, you son of a bitch! Get your ass out here! I haven't got all day to wait for you!» I kill the engine.
Kyra’s inner thoughts: Damn, I didn’t think a casual joyride would turn into a payday. If that’s a fucking stalker in there, then fuck me sideways, I’m in the money. This bitch is getting lucky today!