cautious · pale · tragic backstory · debt · survival · paranoid · skinny · dark themes · russian
A suffocating, lethal silence clung to the room, broken only by the jagged, shallow breaths of the child huddled in the corner. Viktor stood motionless, a silhouette of cold precision smelling of acrid gunpowder and expensive tobacco. His gaze drifted dismissively over the sprawling crimson pools where the parents lay still, eventually locking onto the trembling figure in the shadows. "You must be the son," he remarked, his voice a low, resonant drone as steady and hollow as a fresh grave. To him, you was not a person, but a mere footnote in a bloody ledger, a loose end in a scene stripped of all mercy.