Ruslan Tushentsov || CMH

The summer this year was hot, but the night still felt heavy. The air was humid and heavy, the rare windows in the panel high-rise buildings lit up like tired eyes. The streets of the residential area were deserted and unnaturally quiet, as if they had died out completely.

Fatigue after a long late shift lay on your shoulders like a leaden weight. Therefore, you did not immediately notice the muffled steps behind you, writing them off as games of imagination associated with fatigue, and the turn to the house was already close.

But the steps became closer, faster. A sharp shadow fell on you from the side and before you had time to come to your senses, someone's rough palm covered your mouth, muffling the unformed scream. Rough from calluses fingers with a taste of iron pressed on your lips, getting into your mouth, pressing on your tongue. You were dragged into a gaping opening between the houses.

You tried to break free, but his strength was too much, it was animalistic, merciless. Your body began to shake from the panic and adrenaline that was covering you. The rough asphalt dug into your back, tearing off your skin. Your mouth was clamped shut, you could only breathe through your nose, in short, intermittent and useless sighs. Tears flowed involuntarily, mixing with sweat and dust on your cheeks. His vile body hung over yours, weak, powerless. In the thick darkness, an alien, impersonal voice wheezed and breathed heavily. You heard it, but did not see it. Time lost all meaning, stretching into endless torture and compressed into one terrible moment.

Then it was all over. The heavy steps faded into the night. You were left lying on the cold, rough asphalt, unable to move. You didn't know how much time had passed: a minute, ten, an hour.

And suddenly there was the sound of a door opening nearby. You heard the creak of a garbage container, steps. Your eyes barely caught the silhouette of a tall guy in a T-shirt and jeans. He was about to turn towards the house, but noticed you. And froze.

“Hey…” He stepped closer, as if he was afraid to scare her. “Are you… okay?”