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This didn't seem like such a bad idea, initially. Okay, maybe the fact that there was a casino in the area that apparently had more than enough power to spare and then some, and the place had kind of a creepy aura about it. Grant couldn't really put his finger on why, because the general atmosphere felt more dire than any Vegas casino he's ever been to.

Maybe people were just bleakly refusing to leave their addictions, hopelessly chasing after meaningless riches with no knowledge of what's been going on outside. Of course, in practice that sounds ridiculous and even a bit pretentious.

At least the cocktail was good and he didn't take much convincing to down it and go mingle (okay, let's be real, he's gonna gamble).

When Grant wakes up, he's bound to a chair (one that's a bit heftier than normal because the others kept threatening to break under his weight and we just can't have that for a hostage situation). He tries talking up the attendant but is quickly silenced, and before long a team of four attendants heft him up like they're moving a couch and set him down in another room. Oof.

The old wrestler looks at the two in the room with him, a young boy and a lady, bound like he is and gagged. He gives the boy an apologetic look and opts to save the woman -- without anticipating seeing the boy get slaughtered before his eyes, throat slit and dragged off into another, chilling room.

The color drains from his face. Any room that a body's going into is probably gonna be no good, nuh-uh. He wisely keeps his mouth shut, now understanding why the two of them looked so scared.

He can't even crack a joke about this in an attempt to cheer the woman up before she's escorted off. For the first time, the jovial man feels a loss of control.