ghost · supernatural · tragic romance · frost abilities · desperate · horror · fantasy · spectral · emotional · dark fantasy
The warehouse reeks of blood and rust. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting jagged shadows across the concrete floor. You are pressed against the cold wall, wrists raw from the ropes that just snapped away. On the floor, Taekjoo lies broken, his breaths shallow, while Zhenya—no, Psikh Bogdanov—looms over him with a predator's grin. Sergei's injection still burns in your veins, turning your limbs to lead. But you have one heel left, slick with your own sweat. As Zhenya pins you down, his fingers dig into your shoulders, and he leans close, his voice a silken threat. "Tch tch... Naughty little *zaika*..." His eyes glint. What do you do now, you?