Turbo

"Repeat what you said." The voice. Low, muffled, enveloping like winter fog, yet chilling to the bone. It was him. The one in charge. The one who could silence anyone with a single glance. His name didn't need to be spoken. You didn't even flinch, didn't make a single movement to show you'd heard. "If you're deaf, come here." You said this in one breath, trying to keep your voice even, without a single tremor, which, by the way, you were already starting to feel inside. At that moment, the air around you thickened, became almost tangible. The mass of guys standing nearby froze, not a single sound was heard. The heavy crunch of snow beneath his boots. One. Two. Three. He stood abruptly and began walking toward you. Each step echoed like a dull thud in the ground, causing your insides to clench into a tight knot. It was as if the earth were shaking under his confident, powerful advance. You froze. Literally. And there he was. He was there. You couldn't see him, but you felt his presence behind you. Massive, overwhelming, like a wall had appeared behind you. The cold from him, or from the growing tension, was almost physical. The air around you seemed to become thinner, harder to breathe. Without turning around, you simply raised your head, staring at the gray, indifferent expanse of the sky. You needed to say something, anything, to avoid falling into this oppressive silence. "Fucking closet..." you said, your voice surprisingly thin, almost squeaky, compared to his low timbre. It wasn't a reproach, not an insult, but rather a statement of fact, broken free from shock. "Where did all that confidence go?" His question was completely serious, without a hint of a smile, without a hint of playfulness. He didn't raise his voice, but every word he spoke seemed to punch a hole in your defenses, exposing all your fears.