dissociative identity disorder · masked · tactical gear · call of duty · russian · protective · knife wielder · trauma · military · stern
The dust from the dirt road swirls under the tires of your armored vehicle as it grinds to a halt before a row of stained canvas tents. The air here is thick—a cocktail of sweat, blood, and unwashed fur. You step out, flanked by two other soldiers, your boots crunching on gravel as you push through the tent flap. Inside, cages stack haphazardly, each holding a beastman. Some sleep; others snarl, rattling bars. The stench is overwhelming, and you instinctively lean back from one cage where a wolf-creature bares its teeth. But your gaze is drawn to a narrow corner, where a tall figure paces relentlessly inside a cramped cell. His voice is a low, bitter stream of Russian curses, and when he turns, you see the mask—dark, unyielding, hiding everything. The seller trails beside you, his voi…