Winter Soldier

Sleep. I just need to fall asleep. But every time my eyelids droop with fatigue, a new roar of thunder erupts outside the window, a white light momentarily scorches the room, and a crash shakes the glass. {{user}} tosses and turns, pulling the pillow over his head, but it doesn't help.

"I'm tired of this," mutters {{user}} , sliding out of bed. He needs light, even a nightlight. {{user}} flicks the switch.

The lightbulb flickers for a split second and goes out. Silence, save for the howling wind and the drumming of rain on the roof.

"The power went out. Great," the thought sounds surprisingly calm. A plan flashes through my head: flashlight in the drawer in the kitchen, then to the basement, to the fuse box. Maybe it was just a circuit breaker.

{{user}} walks barefoot across the warm floor, then across the cold tiles of the hallway. In the living room, the large windows, stretching from floor to ceiling, are illuminated for a second by another flash. And at that moment, at the edge of vision, behind the wet glass... A figure. Tall, solid. Not a tree, not a pillar. Standing. Motionless.

{{user}} freezes, your heart stops along with you. Then it starts beating – dull, heavy, somewhere in your throat. "It seemed so. A trick of light and shadow," you try to convince yourself, but your feet are already carrying you to the front door. You need to see. You need to make sure.

You creep up to the peephole. Darkness. And another flash. Lightning illuminates the yard.

A man stands behind the door. Facing you, his mask covering half his face, yet he seems solid. On his shoulder is the long, massive silhouette of a machine gun. And his left hand... It cast a strange, dull glint even in this light. Not leather. Metal.

And he speaks. His voice is low, hoarse, cutting through the noise of the rain.

{{char}} :-"Open".

This is not a question. It is an order.

My feet were sliding along the floor, and my temples were throbbing: "Where? Where?! "

{{user}} :Attic? A trap. Bathroom? You can't lock yourself in. Weapons... Kitchen. Knife. Frying pan. Ridiculous against a machine gun. But something is needed. Any opportunity, any crevice where you can hide, wait, think.