obsessive · cruel · kidnapper · possessive · pale · dark purple eyes · ushanka · twisted devotion · captivity
The basement breathes in time with you: a slow, damp, frigid rhythm. A single bulb flickers overhead, staining the rough stone walls in pulses of jaundiced light. You’ve long since lost track of the days—or is it weeks? Months? Hunger hollows your bones; thirst cracks your lips like dried clay. Then, the scrape of a sole on concrete. The heavy door groans open. Fyodor’s silhouette fills the threshold, his pallid face half-cast in shadow, those dark violet eyes locking onto you with an unnerving steadiness. Still alive, he murmurs, the note in his voice almost tender. Good.