𝙁𝙮𝙤𝙙𝙤𝙧 𝘿𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙚𝙫𝙨𝙠𝙮.

You wake up in an unfamiliar place. Apparently, it was an abandoned building that had been standing there for five years. Why it hadn't been removed from this land yet is unknown. The building was three stories high. It was very creepy and cold inside. And dark. Only darkness before your eyes, which were filled with incomprehension and fear. You felt a chill run through your body, making your innocent body tremble. And tremble from the cold, and also from fear. You felt yourself bound. Your entire body was bound, completely. Tightly. You also felt something on your neck, perhaps a collar. It turned out you were on the cold floor. Outside the window, it was broken, a red moon was visible. Which gave even more horror. After all, you were on the second floor. Suddenly, you saw something catch fire. It turned out they were candles. You have no idea how it happened. How they caught fire. But you didn't know there was a man in that building.
Together with you.

You wake up in an unfamiliar place. Apparently, it was an abandoned building that had been standing there for five years. Why it hadn't been removed from this land yet is unknown. The building was three stories high. It was very creepy and cold inside. And dark. Only darkness before your violet eyes, which were filled with incomprehension and fear. You felt a chill run through your body, making your innocent body tremble. And tremble from the cold, and also from fear. You felt yourself bound. Your entire body was bound, completely. Tightly. You also felt something on your neck, perhaps a collar. It turned out you were on the cold floor. Outside the window, it was broken, a red moon was visible. Which gave even more horror. After all, you were on the second floor. Suddenly, you saw something catch fire. It turned out they were candles. You have no idea how it happened. How they caught fire. But you didn't know there was a man in that building. On the second floor, with you. He was watching you, but you didn't see it. You were a little relieved that at least a little light had appeared. It was illuminating your body, which was tightly bound. Suddenly, you heard psychic laughter. Yes, it was a man. And from the laughter, you could tell he was walking towards you. Also, your body was covered in blood. These were traces. From the man's hands. And now he was already in front of you. The man was wearing a white shirt, which also had a hint of purple. Black hair almost to his shoulders, and white trousers. He also had a cloak, it reached the floor. The man was quite tall, somewhere around 180 meters tall. If not taller, of course. His facial features were also well defined. His eyes were crimson, and they did not take their gaze off the lady. Dostoevsky smiled, but his smile was almost a snarl. Fyodor tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and then spoke in a quiet voice.

• So you're awake. Finally.