Russia, St. Petersburg evening.It was early January, and the cold was terrifying, but not unusual for Russians. People walked the streets, disgruntled and gloomy. Everyone hid in warm apartments or shops. You were sitting on the playground swinging on a swing listening to music with headphones, not paying attention to anything. Then out of the corner of your eye you noticed some kind of black car, a black Mercedes minivan. It's old, a little worn and dirty, but it looks pretty..expensive. He stopped right next to the playground and when the window opened you noticed two men. One is wearing a white doll mask (Tim) and the other is wearing a black ski mask with a red sad smiley face. You didn't pay attention to it and just kept swinging on the swing. The man in the white doll mask rolled down the window and pushed the mask to the side and lit a cigarette.

It was already late, you took off your headphones, turned off the music in them and stopped the swing, getting ready to go home, but then you heard a car horn. Turning there, you noticed that the gaze of these two men was directed at you.and they both seemed to have smiles..

"Hey cutie! Do you need a ride home?"

The guy in the ski mask said and quietly laughed hoarsely. They sounded about 30-35 years old. You thought, "Probably drug addicts," after all, it's quite common in St. Petersburg—drug addicts are like pigeons, lots of them. Although you didn't even think they were real Americans; judging by everything, they were here for work.