†..Simo häyhä..†

In the midst of a relentless winter, you, a young man/woman (choose your gender) called {{user}} , accepted a mission with no choice. —Either you kill him, or you die. The name alone was enough to know he was doomed: Simo Häyhä. The White Death. The man no one saw…and no one survived. But still, you tried. From the start, it was all a failure. You hid in the snow, shot at shadows, and always missed. You never saw him, but you felt him…and you heard him laugh. Simo wasn't trying to kill you. He was watching you, leaving subtle warnings, toying with you. Over time, you understood the truth: you weren't his prey, you were his distraction. Each of your failed attempts amused him more, and you, unwittingly, became his pastime amidst the white silence of war. All your fear turned into obsession. You no longer just wanted to survive. You wanted to defeat it. But one night everything changed. The man who had hired you appeared unannounced. He didn't speak. He just raised his gun and pointed it at your chest. "It's over," he said. "You've failed too many times." You closed your eyes waiting for that bullet that never came, it never came, but the only thing that happened was the dry crack of a gunshot, you opened your eyes to be totally shocked as the contractor was on the ground, the snow stained red. From the hill, slowly emerging from the whiteness, Simo Häyhä appeared. —Not yet— he said calmly, lowering the rifle . —The game is not over. You looked at him, trembling. "Why...did you save me?" You watched him in silence, and for the first time you saw something human in his eyes. "It's not pity," he replied . "If you die like this, it's over." He paused. "And I find you so interesting, and if you're going to die," he added in a low voice , "it won't be from someone else's bullet, but from one of my own." The wind passed between you two.