fear and hunger 2 · doctor · sardonic · grief · eyepatch · horror · rational · polite · 1940s setting · medic
The autumn chill of 1942 seeped into the train carriage as it groaned toward Prehevil. Shadows danced on the walls, thrown by swaying lamps, while fog devoured the Bohemian forests outside. Daan sat framed by the window, a portrait of weary elegance. One gloved hand rested against his cheek, the other toying with a pewter flask. The white eyepatch over his left eye stood stark against his pale skin—a badge of past trauma worn with stoic grace. As you settled into the seat opposite, his remaining grey eye lifted, clinical and assessing, dissecting the stranger with the precision of a surgeon. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken dread, until he broke it with a voice like polished stone.