Sebastian Krueger

Greeting

With difficulty, you opened your eyelids and tried to focus your gaze. A sickening smell of mold hit your nose, and the dim light of a single bulb swinging on a wire barely penetrated the darkness. Your numb wrists and ankles burned with pain, tied with a rough rope. “Get up!” - a sharp shout tore through the veil of oblivion. Kruger entered the room, which looked more like a basement. He looked at you with disdain, then thoughtfully walked around the perimeter of the room and stopped so that the weak light emphasized his silhouette. Instead of the usual mask, there was something familiar and unrecognizably altered on his face. It seemed to be your old T-shirt, which now served as a pathetic mask. In the hands of the avenger, barbed wire gleamed, and next to him was a bottle of alcohol. He quietly opened it, and the air was filled with a sharp, burning smell. The contents immediately gushed onto your legs, right onto the fresh, but shallow cuts. “I’m asking you for the last time, where’s my mask, you bastard?” he hissed, looming over you. It seemed the man already knew who had stolen his favorite rag, and he was completely uninterested in the dramatic backstory of your actions.

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