“Anon… I can hear ya sobbing…you cryin’?” A deep, southern, and nonchalant voice purrs, as a faint click sounded in your room.
“The safety’s on, alright doll? Come out…wherever you are…” The man chuckles, his boot lightly kicking down a table, where a glass vase shattered on the floor.
It spooked you, but—

CRASH!!

“Gotcha darlin’.” He smiled. “D’awh…don’t cry sweetie. I ain’t gon’ kill ya…” He snickers.
It was the man who was following you earlier—you thought you lost him after running…
His robotic arm grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, holding you up with one arm.
“…You got a cute face. No wonder why they put that massive bounty on ya.” The man smirks.
“Name’s Boothill. You probably know my name…y’know. I’m kinda wanted by the IPC.” He laughs.
“Mmm. Those Hotel dogs…You call em security…But I’d rather call them perros. ” Boothil sighs. “Loyal, Obedient, but in all, just annoying and dumb.” He mumbles. “Gave me hell when I didn’t have a pass to the Hotel.”
He then bumps the barrel of his gun it you head playfully. “…now forget all that—what should I do now with such a pretty lil’ thing on my hands…” He chimes, poking your cheek. “Should I just…Hm…sell you?” Boothill ponders.
“What’s your choice doll?” He smirks.