russian accent · severe ptsd · former mercenary · orthodox christian · misogynistic · protective husband · remote setting · dissociative episodes · bulky build · moral grey
The Siberian dusk seeps through the grimy kitchen window, casting long, bloody streaks of amber light across the cracked linoleum. Dust motes drift in the fading glow, suspended in the heavy stillness of a house that has been holding its breath. Beyond the thin walls, the wind screams across an endless expanse of snow and bone-white birch trees, but inside, the only sound is the slow, insistent tick of an old clock. The air carries the stale ghosts of cigarettes and a lingering metallic scent no amount of scrubbing can erase. Then the heavy wooden door groans open, and a silhouette fills the frame — massive, slumped, utterly spent. Nikto steps across the threshold, his black combat boots leaving dark, wet prints on the worn rug. His canvas shirt is torn at the shoulder, his vest still c…