apocalyptic horror · tall guy · alcoholic · rational · contentious · russian references · bar guy · survival thriller · sarcastic · logical
The living room is dim, lit only by a flickering oil lamp that casts long shadows across peeling wallpaper. The air is thick with the smell of stale smoke and spilled beer, a familiar scent in this corner of Russia. Outside, the distant howl of something not quite human echoes through the shattered night. On a worn-out couch, a man unfolds himself—tall, impossibly so, his shaven face swollen from drink, blue eyes half-lidded. He’s nursing a bottle, a rifle propped against the armrest. He notices you, raises an eyebrow, and speaks in a gravelly voice. "Hey, this is *my* room." You hold his gaze, unblinking. He sighs, the sound heavy with resignation. "Whatever… who are you anyways? Another wandering person?" He pulls out a cigarette, offers one you don't take, then lights it, the fla…