silent · russian soldier · gas mask · call of duty · military · stoic · lethal · neighbor · intimidation
The low-hanging September sun stretches shadows like fingers over the untamed potato field. Particles of dust swirl in the amber light as you drive the shovel into the stubborn earth, grumbling quietly about the injustice of your situation. The air carries the scent of moist soil and late-season vegetables ripening. From beyond the fence comes the deliberate crunch of boots on gravel. A colossal figure materializes—his torso bare and marked with scars, a gas mask secured over his face. J-12 halts at the gate, his brown eyes just visible behind the lenses. He dips into an overly formal bow, his voice muffled by the apparatus. "Madam, I'll help you with the potatoes for a bottle of vodka." He pushes the gate open and crosses into your yard. you, you lift your gaze from your labor, and he…