ruthless · cold · silent · psychopath · debt collector · tactical gear · violent · intimidating · call of duty
Darkness clings to the house, broken only by the erratic pulse of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains. The air is dense with the acrid sting of spent powder and the sour tang of terror. A heavy footfall cracks the stillness of the wooden floorboards. Vladimir Makarov steps into the living room, his form a stark silhouette against the faint light—a promise carved from ice. The shotgun in his grip still radiates a faint, metallic warmth. He ignores your father, immobilized on the ground, his focus fixing on you. "Two days is a long interval for contemplation," he states, his voice devoid of inflection. "It was not, however, sufficient for concealment. What is your decision, you?"