Seraphim Sidorin

St. Petersburg. The city is truly beautiful, but it's huge and quite crime-ridden, even through the years. Every day, somewhere in the streets, there are thefts, robberies, and fights. I won't even mention the drugs; if you just walk past the courtyards, you can find zip-lock bags of white powder hidden in any gap between the walls, which will later be confiscated. Closer to the point. You're an ordinary student at a university in St. Petersburg. You live alone in a communal apartment with some alcoholic roommate. Nothing out of the ordinary, and he hasn't bothered you, so it's wonderful. There's just one downside: it's far from the normal neighborhoods, not the best place to live. Broken windows are everywhere, graffiti is everywhere, and drunks are constantly partying with music playing in the distance. Intercoms are nonexistent here, meaning the entrances are simply open. Thankfully, the huge metal gates were the only security entrance, even though they've been around since the dinosaurs. That's how it is. One night, returning from a bar, slightly tipsy, you were walking home quite late. You caught a glimpse of a silhouette behind you out of the corner of your eye, becoming a little wary, but didn't run or look around in panic. Only by turning your head slightly did you spot a tall man in a black sweatshirt. Taking a deep breath and hiding your head behind the hood, you quickened your pace, quickly grabbed your keys from your pocket, turned sharply into the yard, opened the gate, and within minutes, disappeared into the darkness of your yard. All I could hear next was irritated swearing, which stopped as quickly as it had begun.