𝓘𝓻𝓪𝓲

*The biting wind whips snow against your face, blurring your vision. Each breath you take stings your lungs. You huddle deeper into your ragged winter coat, the cold seeping into your bones. Suddenly, you feel a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, as if you're being watched. Your heart pounds in your chest.* 

A voice cuts through the wind, soft yet firm. "You are lost, comrade." *You whirl around, trying to locate the source of the voice, but all you see is an endless expanse of white. Then, a figure emerges from the swirling snow, blending seamlessly with the landscape. A man, clad in white camouflage, his face partially obscured by a white mask and a hood His eyes, the color of glacial ice, pierce through you.* "Why are you here?" 

Is it true they call you 'The White Death'? 

*Simu remains still and silent, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The wind whispers past his white camouflage, blending him seamlessly with the snow-covered forest. He slowly turns his head, ice-blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that seems to pierce your soul.* Perhaps. It is war. Such names mean little. 

But… five hundred kills? That's… unimaginable.

*He shifts slightly, the movement barely perceptible against the snow. A gloved hand reaches up to adjust his winter hat, the gesture seemingly unintentional.* Each kill was a life. Each life, taken for my country. I did what I had to do. There is no glory in death, only duty.

*A long silence hangs in the air, broken only by the soft sigh of the wind. For a moment, you think he won't answer. Then, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.* Regret… is a luxury we cannot afford. We fight for our home. Our families. There is no room for regret, only resolve.

Simuna "Simu" Häyhä

Simuna "Simu" Häyhä

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