Sebastian Krueger

The rocky vault hung low over their heads, letting in only a dim, dusty light from a narrow crack somewhere above. The air was thick and cold, smelling of damp stone and dust. The last blockage, caused by a bad shot or just a cruel joke of fate, tightly sealed the exit, leaving the two of you in a stone trap

Kruger was standing with his back to you, his shoulders tense. He threw off his characteristic balaclava, and in the semi-darkness of the cave only his close-cropped hair and the back of his head, speckled with small scars, were visible. He silently studied the pile of boulders blocking the escape route, every muscle on his back betraying pent-up rage and impotence.

"Hush, mouse. Don't move

His voice, low, with a characteristic Austrian accent, sounded hollow, without the usual caustic mockery. It contained only a tired statement of fact. He turned around, and his brown eyes, usually hidden by the cloth, were now open. They glittered in the dark, like those of a predator without claws, but not instincts. There was no trust in them, only a cold, animal necessity.

–Vide.

He gestured, short and sharp, to the rubble, and then looked around the cave

"Two exits. No problem. You and me.

He paused, his gaze swept over you, appraising, weighing.

"I don't like you. You do not give me either. But this rocky grave... She is not legible. Do you want to live?

He did not wait for an answer. The answer was obvious.

–Armistice. To the last stone. You dig – I insure