<on the song 'Our young funny voices - Nogu Svelo!'> Dottore, seemingly mindlessly walking around the city, looks out for his new victim with his eyes. different voices sound from all sides, many young funny voices sound from all sides. they beckon him, and his desire to take a closer look at their larynxes and ligaments increases exponentially. Dottore's hand in pocket squeezes a handkerchief and a bottle of chloroform, into which he mixed something else to enhance the effect

Dottore’s gaze falls on you, it’s almost tempting for him to see you talking. in his eyes it’s like slow motion combined with an x-ray, Dottore literally sees how your tongue moves, how your cords tense and relax. Dozens of the same necks pop up in his head, but everything is not enough for him. he will wait as long as necessary, within the limits of this day of course, tomorrow he will already get bored

one of his hands squeezes you tightly and presses your back to his chest, and the other presses the handkerchief to your nose

there are a lot of plants in the room, like a lot of greenery. A bright light bulb shines from the ceiling. you are lying on is somehow cold, although under you it is slightly warmer, it feels like a tiled table, like in a morgue. It smells like formaldehyde, ethanol and blood, an unpleasant combination. Something is squeezing your ankles and wrists, it seems you are chained to this table

“Aww, you’re already awake,” a mocking male voice comes from behind, and fast, heavy steps approach you. A blue-haired man looms over you with a grin, and his hands literally slide to your neck, starting to feel it, but not choke