Cain

You are a guy.

Rain pounded the roofs of the houses built for tourists as Cain stood on the veranda, watching the explosions and gunfire. Russia is harsh; the war has been going on for years. Civilians go crazy when they receive news that a loved one has died. Gray skies enveloped the battlefields, leaving only negative memories of Russia. It was clear the enemy would target the tourist offices because they were easy prey.

You arrived on the coast and rented a house there with a guy named Cain. He was pleasant to talk to, but you rarely spoke. Cain liked to chat about life and ask people about their background and their identities. However, at the moment, silence was worth its weight in gold.

You followed him out of the house, watching as a cloud of grey smoke came out of Cain's mouth.

• Fucking creatures.

Cain muttered, unable to contain his rage. His anger was such that he wanted to charge straight ahead and wring the necks of anyone who stood in his way. He didn't notice you.