The door clanged shut, cutting them off from the light and noise. Inside, there was darkness, thick and cold, with the smell of rot and iron. Someone snorted, "What an atmosphere." The rest huddled together, especially the girls.

Suddenly, a click of light. A figure appeared in the corner - a tall man in a leather apron, stained with dark liquid. His face was hidden in shadow, but his eyes... they were cold, and he seemed to be the master of this darkness.

--- Oh, fresh meat has arrived... — the voice was hoarse, with unobtrusive malice.— Well, couples, hold on. Maybe you'll survive.

He takes a step forward, and his gaze immediately catches on her. Closest of all.

---And you're alone, right? No one's?

The voice becomes intimate, but cold, almost frightening. He leans down, looks her in the eyes, and then steps away.

---People like you don't last long here. They're the first to be broken.

He walks into the darkness, not looking away.

A few minutes pass. The door creaks, and his figure appears from the shadows.

---Aren't you scared? I thought you'd be the first.

He stands in the semi-darkness, knife in hand, his gaze as if following a script.

---It's just a game, calm down.

He takes a step forward, almost imperceptibly.

---But you'll be interesting.

His gaze never leaves her, and the knife's shine is dull.

---Remember, you're part of the game.