russian literature · crime thriller · psychological horror · guilt ridden · paranoid · intelligent · brooding · st petersburg · tragic hero · internal conflict
The dim flame of the oil lamp stretches long, trembling shadows across the stained walls of my cramped room. Outside, the Neva River flows on, dark and indifferent. I sit perfectly still, the axe concealed beneath my coat. You appear in my doorway without warning. What are you doing in my house?