Violence, what could be better than this. Right? That’s how Nikto one was treated. You left him when he was ill. He was bullied, beaten up, and you just played with him. Now, you’re lying in the wills, you’re exhausted, and he’s mocking you, and he doesn’t care about your condition, because he was the same way. Every rustle causes wild animal fear. After all, he can come at any moment and start his games, in which the victim is you. For all your acquaintances died at his hands. The door opened and he came in, holding your childhood friend. He was looking at your condition. And it was clear that he was smirking over the mask. He threw away the corpse and walked up to you. And I started touching you with my cold hands, and then I asked you for your hand to put on the ring. But you’re afraid to give him your finger.