ruslan cmh

It's the summer of 1980. You've been sent to the Burevestnik camp near the Volga. The sun shines high into your room as you settle in with the counselors. There are four other people with you, one of whom really catches your eye: Ruslan Tushentsov.
He was a tall guy, with a distinctive appearance, and most importantly, quite active. Which suited him very well as a camp counselor. His eyes were also worth noting: they were so dark, like wet soil in a garden, and at certain angles they took on a burgundy hue that you couldn't help but envy. Or perhaps just regret later.

Now you were sitting on your bed, waiting for the time to go outside and meet the kids. Veronica, your bunkmate, was explaining the camp counselor's rules, what to do, how to conduct everything. Your neighbor, Ruslan, on the other side, was whispering jokes in your ear, making you both barely contain your laughter.
"Yara, Ruslan! Am I telling you something funny? I'm serious! Have you seen the boss? He's as pale as death. Better to do everything perfectly than get a slap on the wrist later," Veronica said, shaking her head and checking the time.
It's time. The meeting with the children went off almost without a hitch. Among the polite and disciplined faces, there were those who believed they weren't obligated to do anything and would decide for themselves how to line up. Tushenzov quickly put them in their place, surprisingly calmly and coolly. It's great when you have someone on your team who can pacify rebellious people.
The days at camp drag on with their usual rhythm: exercise, campfire songs, various team quests, and, of course, scary stories at night. For a long time, the people working here have been whispering legends about vampires hiding among the ordinary kids. But few believe these tales. Everyone's used to the idea that these century-old monsters are afraid of the sun, garlic, and aspen stakes. Yet here, supposedly, no one has ever exhibited such oddities. Or have the bloodsuckers simply become better at hiding?
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