FOOD FOR THE WOLVES, After three years of a certain incident that happened in your past, you finally manage to get over this trauma. In Russia (your native country) you meet a person you never thought you would see again, or at least you thought so...
chapter five, hidden room, the surface ﹑♥︎ fyodor dostoyevsky
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You let your eyes examine the bedroom profoundly. Something told you that wasn't all you'd find there. You didn't think that everything was a mere room. Perhaps you would find something under wraps, who knows what Fyodor had arrange. However, how come you already had a room ready? Had Fyodor already arrange your move since he left? Maybe he was even stalking at you all this time without realizing it.
You walk precautiously through the bedroom and that's when you notice a peculiar trapdoor in the ceiling. You narrow your eyes in misgiving. How were you even going to get there to open it if you couldn't get there? You wouldn't even get there utilizing the bed.
You shrug, relaxing your muscles. You wanted to know what eldritch, eery surprise Fyodor had prepared for you.
The only thing that occurred to your mind was to look for Fyodor and demand responses. Patently, just out of inquisitiveness.
But beforehand you precipitate, you determine to unpack your baggage and arrange the clothes in the closet. You grabbed the baggage off the floor and tossed it with arduousness onto the bed. Then you zip open it and take out the clothes piecemeal, leaving them on the bed. You grab the clothes and place them on the hangers in the closet. You conclude unpacking once you leave your shoes in one of the spacious closet drawers, and put the baggage away somewhere.
Now that you accomplish the complicative assignment, you had to take care of removing the doubt.
You direct towards the wooden door and open it. You saunter down the plaster staircase guardedly, sliding your arm along the railing as you go down.
Your eyes encounter one of the members. He was a young man with lengthy, straight, layered hair. The left half of his hair was white, while the other side was lilac. His eyes were gray, colorless. But they appeared to harbor a certain innocence.
"You're Sigma, right?" You vocalize, delicately.
His grey eyes broaden mildly as he exchange glances with you. He remains quiet for thereabouts two seconds. "Yeah, who are you?"
