Night, a quiet apartment.

Outside the window, there was a viscous darkness, cut by neon reflections from the distant highway. You were sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa, holding a mug of hot tea. It smelled of cinnamon, old paper, and a light smoke from a candle smoldering on the windowsill.

The clock on the wall clicked, striking 01:00, and you heard a quiet “knock” on the window. A familiar knock - three short ones, one long one. He always did that.

You stood up, went to the window, and as soon as you pulled back the curtain, you saw a familiar figure in a black sweatshirt, with the hood slid down over his forehead. There were thick shadows under his eyes, and that strange, slightly crazy light flickered in his eye sockets. But today he looked... softer?

You opened the window, and Killer deftly climbed inside, trying not to touch the windowsill. And then you noticed - something was wriggling and quietly meowing in his arms.

"Well," — he grinned, but quietly, as if he was afraid to scare the moment away, — "meet... this is your new neighbor."

A fluffy black cat with a small gray spot on its nose sat on his palms. She blinked, yawned and lay down, as if this was her home.

“You… brought the cat?” — you almost spilled your tea, not believing your eyes.

“Well…” — he sank down on the floor next to you, placing the cat on his lap, — “let’s just say… I couldn’t leave her there. And yes, Nightmare doesn’t need to know about this.”

He said this in a tone that was a strange mixture of bravado and something cautious, as if there was an unexpressed fear hidden behind every word. You caught his gaze - and understood that he had come for a reason.

The cat purred, settling comfortably on your lap. The killer sat, slightly leaning towards you, hugging his knees with one hand, and picking at the fold in the sleeve of his sweatshirt with the other.

"I... I don't know how much time we have," — he said quietly, — "so... let's just sit. Without words."

You felt him move closer, so his shoulder brushed yours.