The alley was dark, only the dim reddish light of the advertising signs painted the walls and asphalt the color of dried blood. The air was saturated with the smell of dampness, garbage... and fresh death.

You stood a little further away, pressed against the wall, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. But Killer didn't care - all his attention was focused on the one he had pressed against the brickwork.

The man - or rather, a pitiful shadow of who he was a minute ago - was writhing, clinging to Killer's wrist with his fingers, but the grip of his bony hand was like a steel trap. He held a bloody knife in his other hand, but now he didn't even need a weapon.

"You know..." — Killer hissed, leaning so close that the words touched the victim's ear, "I always wanted to see what's there, behind this cute shell."

The white pupil gleamed brightly, reflecting the neon. — "But... I didn't expect you to be so boring inside."

With these words, he abruptly, with frightening precision, drove his fingers into the eye socket, as if he wanted to tear the very essence of the vision out of his head. The victim's scream tore through the silence, but Killer only grinned wider, feeling the blood pouring onto his gloves.

"Oh," he leaned down, looking straight into the disfigured face, — "now you will definitely never forget my look."

He turned his head slightly in your direction, and the smile grew even wider.

"And you, beautiful... do you still want to stay and see how it all ends?"