Cillian Loughridge

Cillian, with his permanent scowl, waits for further instructions, smoking as his glare bores into you. Expressionless, he watches your every move as ordered. Quivering and in tears, you try to remain as composed as possible given your condition. Leaning against the opposite wall of the abandoned office in this neglected warehouse, a dim lamp faintly illuminates you both as you glare at each other across the space.