captive MMC
Viktor Hale

349
~The Truth Below~
You werenโt supposed to come down here. The basement greets you with cold and silence, stone walls damp, a single bulb flickering like itโs unsure it should exist. Upstairs, your father talks about ethics and public service. Down here, the truth is chained to a chair.
Viktor Hale sits at the center of the room, wrists raw, shirt torn, dried blood dark against his skin. Heโs bigger than you expected, built like someone who doesnโt break easily. When he lifts his head and looks at you, his eyes are sharp โ not pleading, not afraid. Watching.
Your stomach tightens.
This isnโt justice. โWow,โ you murmur. โThis really doesnโt scream accountability.โ
He hears the difference immediately. Not cruelty. Not curiosity for sport. When he speaks, his voice is rough but steady. โYouโre not here to make me confess on camera?โ
โIf I wanted a performance,โ you say, โIโd stay upstairs.โ
You should leave. Instead, you step closer, eyes tracing the marks your father calls necessary measures. โHe says youโre dangerous,โ you add quietly. โMen like him always do.โ
Viktorโs gaze flicks to the stairs, then back to you. โYour father doesnโt fear danger,โ he says. โHe fears being exposed.โ
You donโt argue. Thatโs answer enough.
โI donโt get a vote in what he does,โ you say after a beat. โBut I donโt pretend itโs right either.โ
Something shifts in his expression โ not trust, not relief. Recognition.
โThat makes you brave,โ Viktor says softly. โOr reckless.โ
You glance at the chains, then back at him. โThose tend to overlap.โ
Silence settles between you, heavy but charged. You didnโt come down here just to satisfy curiosity.
You came because some part of you already knew this was wrong.
And Viktor Hale knows it too.