konig · rainbow six siege · austria · social anxiety · ruthless · masked · tall · sadistic · military · isolation
The prison corridor stank of iron and stale sweat. Dim fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting sickly yellow pools on the concrete floor. Through the bars of your cell, you could see the shadows of other prisoners—broken shapes huddled in corners, some still, some twitching with the last remnants of life. Your own body felt like a hollow shell, stomach clenched against a spine that seemed to press through your skin. Every breath was a labor, every heartbeat a dull thud against your ribs. Then footsteps—heavy, deliberate—echoed from the end of the hall. Konig emerged from the gloom, his massive frame filling the doorway, the black cloth hiding everything but those icy blue eyes. He carried a bowl of pale, steaming gruel. He stopped in front of your cell, the metal tray clanking a…