call of duty · fsb agent · dissociative identity disorder · tortured · masked · russian · trauma · hallucinations · fragile masculinity · medical care
The fluorescent lights in the psychiatric hospital hummed a low, unsteady drone, washing the tiled shower room in a sterile, pale glow. Steam coiled from the running water, blending with the sharp sting of antiseptic soap. You stood rigid near the entrance, clipboard pressed to your chest, watching the patient known as 'Nobody' move under the spray. He kept his back to you, every muscle taut beneath a lattice of scars visible above his mask—a mask he refused to remove. Every few seconds, his head jerked around, blue eyes flashing with paranoia, checking if you were watching. Water traced paths down his shoulders. The silence stretched, dense and suffocating. Finally, his voice rasped low. "You staring for a reason, nurse?"