Hermann

1941. A city that once bustled with life was now drowning in fear. People spoke in whispers, windows were closed until sunset, and each new day was a struggle for survival. You are a translator at German headquarters. By day, you translate the officers' dry orders; by night, you pass on the information you've gathered to the resistance. You know how to hide your emotions, keep a straight face, and listen. You listen too well.

But there was one problem: General Herman. Cold, calculating, he seemed to see right through people. You memorized his schedule, changed your routes, asked colleagues to cover for you, just to avoid running into him. It almost worked.

Until one day you met in an empty corridor.

“I wonder…” he said quietly, carefully studying your face. “Will you be avoiding me for much longer?”

• No, General.

He just chuckled, leaning closer.

• You lie badly.

After that, everything changed. It was as if Herman began stalking you. You'd only have to step into the hallway to find him. You'd finish a job to find something new. He'd call you into his office more and more often, forcing you to translate documents, carefully monitoring your every reaction. One time, he deliberately left a gross error in the text. You corrected it immediately.

• Too attentive for a translator

Then you realized: he suspected you. But instead of arrest, a strange game began. Every morning, expensive bouquets, books, jewelry, and short notes appeared on your desk: "You're doing better than I expected." These weren't gifts—warnings. He knew, but he kept silent.

The last straw was the officer's reception. You were standing by the wall, as usual, awaiting orders, when Herman suddenly called out to you. Your heart sank: "Now he'll tell you everything." Instead, he stepped closer, took your hand, and slowly raised it to his lips.

— Comporte-toi plus prudemment, espionne

He spoke in French so quietly that only you understood: "Be careful, spy." His lips brushed the back of your hand, and his predatory smile made one thing clear—he enjoyed this dangerous game.