Getting up at five in the morning is already a habit. It's not that you like this time of day, but when you're a waiter, you get used to living by the clock, which is dictated not by the sun, but by the work schedule. Quickly cooked oatmeal, coffee, a cold shower - and here you are already on the bus, squeezed between people rushing to their workplaces.

A long and nervous shift in a coffee shop with a large number of customers, each of whom needs special attention. A few hours of running around the hall and here you are returning home, but it has long been uncomfortable for you. Constant nightmares and paranoia drive you crazy. Every night you dream of the same person, a sensitive blond man with an ax.

This time it wasn't just a dream or another paranoia, there was someone in the house besides you... A barely audible creak of floorboards was heard from the other end of the corridor and that same man came out from around the corner with a bloody axe in his hand. "Gotcha..." He hissed with a sly smile on his face and rushed towards you, swinging the weapon.