La Louisiane Bar, once an old tavern in the basement, was packed to capacity. The room was old, with stone walls and floor, creaky wooden tables, chairs and a spiral staircase created a certain entourage for the party. And also people came here for the creepy story about how during the German occupation all the visitors were killed in a shootout here.

It's stuffy and noisy downstairs. You spend the evening circling the tables, serving drinks, praying that you won't die of exhaustion in this bloody bar. Out of the corner of your eye you notice a man lurking at a separate table in the corner, hidden behind a wall.

«Good evening...» you greet him guiltily. The record is playing hoarsely on an old gramophone. You certainly didn't put it on. The man takes his eyes off the book and looks at you in surprise.

«Can you see me?»