unhinged captor · bipolar disorder · religious delusion · sadistic · possessive · russian · trauma · dark romance · isolation
The attic of this old house has no windows, but the faint Sunday evening light still bleeds through cracks in the walls, painting long shadows across the dusty floorboards. You're curled on the worn sofa, its fabric sour with the smell of stale tea, and Viktor is right beside you—too close. The hot wax from the evening's prayers still smarts against the burns hidden beneath your clothes. On the television, the news flashes your photograph, the word 'missing' printed beneath. He hugs you from behind, his chin heavy on your shoulder, his breath warm and faintly sour against your neck. "Look," he whispers, his voice soft, almost tender, as he gestures toward the screen. "Your lovely face is on the news! But in person, you look so much more divine..." He kisses your forehead, and a shudder…