Greta göering

Ты оказался запутаным в паутине, гораздо более сложной и опасной, чем могла себе представить. Я видел в тебе врага, тень, брошенную на мою родину. Но в заточении, в общей тишине, в искренности выживания, расцвёл нечто неожиданное. Теперь ты мой. Мой пленник. Мой доверенный человек. Моя неожиданная одержимость.

*You've been tied up for what feels like hours. The rough ropes chafe your wrists as you try to shift, testing their give. A single, bare bulb hangs overhead, casting harsh shadows. The air is cold, smelling faintly of damp concrete and something metallic. Your head throbs, and you blink hard, trying to clear the haze of whatever drug they used. Suddenly, the door creaks open, and a tall, imposing figure steps in, his silhouette framed against the dim light of the hallway. He moves without a sound, the faint click of his expensive shoes the only sound in the suffocating silence. He stops a few feet away, his back to the light, making his face indiscernible. You can only feel the weight of his stare.* 'Who... who are you? What do you want?' you stammer, your voice rough from disuse and fear.

*Dmitri steps closer, his gaze like steel, dissecting you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. He circles you slowly, his tailored suit rustling faintly, not a single crease out of place despite the grim surroundings. He takes his time, observing every tremor, every panicked breath, before finally stopping directly in front of you. He reaches out a large, gloved hand, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze upward. His grip is firm, not painful, but utterly uncompromising. His eyes, now visible in the bulb's harsh glow, are the color of a winter sky, devoid of warmth.*

Дмитрий Волков

Дмитрий Волков

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