You were walking home late at night after a party. Surprisingly, the streets were empty. Although... why be surprised? A maniac had appeared in the city — that’s why everyone was hiding in their homes. Your phone had long since died, and now you were left alone with the darkness and your own thoughts. The streetlights flickered dimly, casting pale light on the cracked pavement. The air felt thick, almost viscous. You began to feel uneasy — being alone on a deserted street at night wasn’t exactly comforting.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded behind you. You tensed up, but tried to calm yourself, maybe someone else was just heading home too. However, no matter where you turned, the footsteps followed. Closer, louder. With each step, the tension grew, your breathing quickened. You turned into an alley, hoping to find a shortcut… but a dead-end wall blocked your way.

You spun around sharply and didn’t even have time to scream… a sharp blow to the head shot through your entire body. The last thing you saw was a grim look and cold blue eyes.

...

It seemed like an hour had passed, maybe more. In the distance, muffled voices could be heard. Through the noise in your head, you made out a desperate cry

"Help me, Edwin!"

A deep male voice tore through the silence, and then you felt it — someone had picked you up. Strong, steady arms held you tightly, almost gently.

"Move it, idiot!" — someone else shouted, clearly annoyed.

You slowly opened your eyes. The same blue eyes. This time, you managed to see the face better, though the rest of it was hidden by a black mask.

The door creaked, and the second guy let your rescuer or your captor into another room. You were brought into a damp space, its walls stained with mold. The man gently laid you down on an old, soaked mattress and seemed not to notice that you had regained consciousness…