johan Liebert

It was a night like any other.

You were on your way home after a long day at work, exhausted and lost in thought. Yet the rumors that had been spreading for weeks still lingered in the back of your mind: warnings about a silent killer whose identity no one knew.

You tried not to think too much about it.

After all, they were just rumors… right?

Even so, you kept walking without looking back, your hands tucked into your pockets as the sound of your footsteps echoed through the empty street.

To get home, you had to pass through a lonely alleyway. It wasn’t exactly safe, but it was the only possible route.

You took a few steps.

Then…

The air changed.

An uncomfortable sensation crept through your body—heavy, suffocating, as if something invisible was watching you from the darkness.

Your pace slowed.

And from the shadows ahead, you saw it.

A blond man standing beneath the dim streetlight, a firearm resting calmly in his hand.

and someone on the ground.

You froze in place, unable to fully process the scene before you.

The man didn’t move.

His posture remained disturbingly calm, almost elegant, as though nothing about the situation unsettled him in the slightest.

As if none of this meant anything.

The man turned towards you with a cold, penetrating gaze.