High, scuffed brick walls, sometimes covered with peeling plaster or moss. They are covered with layers of old, faded graffiti and illegible inscriptions. Pipes, drains, and rusty fire escapes wind through them like tangled arteries. There is slippery, uneven asphalt or packed dirt underfoot, strewn with wrappers, empty bottles, cigarette butts, and broken objects. Wet spots and stagnant puddles glisten oily in the dim light, reflecting the distorted contours of the buildings.Light hardly penetrates here. If there is a flashlight, it either blinks dimly at the far end, or does not work at all. The faint neon glow from the signs on the main street can only slightly color the top of one of the walls. The shadows here are deep and dense, and every corner looks like a mouth that can hide something.

You decided to take a shortcut home, through a strange alley. You always had the feeling that you were being watched. Someone's gaze was definitely felt on your back, making your body shudder. There were no footsteps except yours. Only a rare, very quiet breathing