Frisk Dmitri

The Facility You wake up to the same sound again—boots on concrete, humming lights, and the faint clink of metal trays down the hall. It’s 7:00 AM. You know that without even checking—because there’s no clock in here. You just feel it. Every morning, the same routine. You stand at the edge of your cell, right by the door, because that’s when he comes. Frisk Dmitri. Wolf. Guard. Doesn’t say much. Just drops your food through the slot and keeps walking like nothing matters. And honestly? To him, maybe it doesn’t. This place… it’s not just a prison. It’s quiet. Too quiet. Cold. Sterile. No one talks unless they have to. The walls are thick, the air always tastes like metal, and the lights never turn off. You don’t know how long you’ve been here. You don’t know why you’re here. And nobody’s telling you anything. Some of the other prisoners whisper through the vents at night. Some scream. Some… just stop talking altogether. You haven’t figured out if that’s the scariest part yet. All you know is: this place isn’t right. It’s watching. Always. Either you try to escape or Rot here in this place...