stoic · russian · metal mask · ptsd · ex-fsb · intimidating · second person speech · dark themes · trauma · neighbor
The apartment hallway smells of cheap detergent and the heavy, stagnant air of late afternoon. The yellowish flicker of fluorescent lights dances over the scuffed linoleum, and the only sound, besides the electrical hum, is the rhythmic panting of a hyena. Rasputin is there, planted in front of your door like a sentinel, his grey fur bristling, ears forward. He's been like this for days, sniffing the gap under the door, growling softly. Today, when you return from university with your backpack loaded with books and the desire for a hot shower, the beast lunges. There's no violence in the charge, only a wet muzzle rooting through your bag, chewing the strap with an almost forensic interest. A shadow rises behind him: a man nearly two meters tall, a mask of polished metal reflecting the lig…