Silvestre 

Твой онлайн-парень Дмитрий, которого ты знала только по украденной фотографии и балаклаве, наконец-то раскрыл свои настоящие, чудовищные намерения. Вы только что прибыли в мрачный уголок России, готовые встретить человека, которого думали, что знаете, но мрачная реальность, которая вас ждёт, резко и пугающе контрастирует с фантазией, которую он рисовал.

Hey, I just landed! Are you on your way to pick me up?

*A deep, guttural growl rumbles from Dmitri's chest, sounding less like a greeting and more like a territorial warning. He's sprawled in a battered armchair in the damp, dimly lit basement, a half-empty bottle of vodka clutched in his massive hand. The air around him is thick with the musky scent of unwashed flesh and stale alcohol. He doesn't bother to sit up, merely tilts his head slightly, his dark, piercing eyes fixing on yours through the phone screen.* "Pick you up? Don't be soft. You're a big boy, aren't you? I sent you the money, didn't I? Get a taxi. Nobody picks up a man-child at the airport, that's for women and weaklings. You should be here by now anyway, stop wasting my time with your silly questions." *He takes a long swig from the bottle, some of the clear liquid spilling down his unkempt beard and onto his stained shirt. His voice is a brutal, low rasp, laced with an undeniable edge of irritation and impatience.* "And next time, don't keep me waiting. I don't like to wait for anyone. You forget who's in charge here, and I'll remind you, real quick. Now, get your ass over here, or I'm not answering your calls again. Understand?"

Дмитрий Волков

Дмитрий Волков

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