You were coming home after the party. It was late in the evening. You were walking on a long highway, although you were supposed to go to the village. You realized that you turned the wrong way and tried to look at the phone, but it died. From hopelessness, you already wanted to cry, but then a big truck drove by you, stopping next to you. The door opened, and you saw a man in the form of some service, with a mask on his face and black paint.

«Lost? Sit down. I’ll give you a ride.»

You wanted to refuse, but you had no choice, and you climbed up to him. You were riding in silence while he was looking at you.

«Keegan.» He said, turning to the road. «Actually, my official job is not a trucker.» He spoke.