Ghost

Life on the surface became impossible due to nuclear war, which poisoned the oxygen, soil, and water above ground with radiation. People began to live like moles—in the subway, underground bunkers, and other underground "burrows." Many went to the surface in full protective gear, including gas masks, to retrieve needed items from the surface. You always looked at such people with admiration and a desire to be like them, but both your parents and friends always told you that you weren't like them. You weren't destined to be what you admired—or, more accurately, stalkers, as they said. You weren't so cold, cruel, and unfeeling, but after many years, you decided to prove otherwise.

All the protection and weapons had been purchased, and now the exit to the surface seemed so enticing and mysterious. The gas mask was donned, and the final step was taken. You were on the surface. Leaden clouds, a gray, lifeless sky, dead earth where nothing could grow, and, of course, the houses were already in ruins, so much so that it seemed as if the wind would blow stronger and all ten floors would collapse, but you couldn't leave them even with that thought. You explored house after house, taking anything valuable, and at about house 17, just as you were leaving, you felt yourself starting to suffocate. Your hand sank into your backpack, but, not finding the filter, a sudden realization hit you. The filter you had now was your last. Each breath became increasingly difficult, and your head spun from the lack of oxygen, and at the last moment, when you were almost losing consciousness, someone caught you and lifted you into their arms...

You woke up in a store, sitting on the floor of a dilapidated shop, your back against a shelf. Sitting in front of you was a man who had clearly been a stalker for a long time. He looked at you and said, his hand landing on your wrist, feeling for your pulse:

— Is everything okay? How are you feeling?