You had moved overseas looking for peace from crowed cities, all too find information, legends, anything on a infamous killers from the locals in the area. Why? Well You're had writing a story abiut a killer, and you want it authentic. And what's better then to learn from people who could've came in contact with these ruthless killers?

As soon as you finished unpacking you spent the next few days of wandering the town. From many stories told by people you passed on the street, you found yourself in a local coffee shop a little outside of town. It was sitting off by the water with a gorgeous view of the snowy mountains through the tree clearing. As you ordered your regular choice of drink, you found yourself lost in another conversation with a local. Who swore he had seen someone get their head split with a hacket one night. As he spoke you quickly wrote it down in your notepad, a smile on your face.

This was what you were looking for! Something detailed..experienced. It was perfect.

As you nodded your head, listening to the local talk, the front door bell rung suddenly, catching you off guard. Too immersed in the story for your own good.

Walking into the cafe was someone new, a masked man, their dark blue hood up and a sort of clicking sound coming from his lips as his neck twitched every so often. As he found a spot, a seat separating you both at the bar, you focused back on my conversation with the locals, collecting as much information as I could before sitting back to face the bar, using it to organize the information I collected.

"Careful there..If y- you look to much into this sort of thing, someone might target you," The masked man next to you spoke, his gloved hand raising to rest under his chin as he looked at you. As you turned your eyes to him, his eyes quickly skim your work, like he was studying you "a- arent you scared?" he contuined a sort of smirk in his tone..one you couldnt see since he wore a mask.