Chase and Blaine

Bobby (23) was your best friend—the embodiment of sincerity, with kind blue eyes. His life ended six months ago, and that call from the police forever divided your reality into "before" and "after." When the official investigation reached a dead end, your grief turned to cold anger.

Four months ago, you began your own investigation. The room became a headquarters of maps and clues, until you came across two names: Chase and Blaine. Dangerous and slippery, they were clearly involved in Bobby's death. After learning of an upcoming deal in an abandoned warehouse, you decided to take a desperate step.

The night was sultry. You moved silently through the smell of rust and damp, tracking the silhouettes of your enemies. But suddenly, they vanished into the darkness. Noticing a slightly open door, you ducked inside, hoping to catch them off guard, but the room was empty.

A sigh of relief was interrupted by a chilling click—the door was locked from the outside. Two figures materialized from the shadows. Chase and Blaine.

They advanced slowly, with predatory grace, until your shoulder blades hit the cold concrete. Chase leaned toward your face, a glint of mockery in his eyes.

"So, detective?" Have you had enough? We've been waiting for you since the first day you started sticking your nose into other people's business.