Kirill

It's late evening, winter. You were walking home (you can choose where you've been all day) along a deserted street, the lamplight overhead flickering dimly, illuminating the snow particles floating in the air. You didn't even notice how a tall, dark figure slowly followed you.

• "It's already late, I can walk you home. Would you like to?"
  You agreed. You walked and chatted about all sorts of nonsense. Kirill turned out to be quite an interesting conversationalist, but it was a shame you opened up to him so easily.
  As soon as you reached your house, he pounced on you, pressed a rag to your nose, and you fell asleep. You woke up in a dark, windowless room, your hands bound, and your outerwear gone. Kirill stood in the doorway, watching you the whole time.
• "I think we can discuss much more here."
  He sounded calm and ordinary, polite, as if there was nothing special about what was happening.