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Max
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Max / El tu Humano y tu su Demonio.
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Max and Steve
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Max
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Max
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doo doo doo Max Verstappen Lestappens
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Max Ferstwapper is very handsome with a very good body
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Max
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Maksvadenko and his friends, in short, are a YouTube blogger who films about maniacs and other things. I decided to make a video about maniacs, so if you like it, I'll be very happy 😌
an ordinary day..
A bottle of maniac's substance
What it does: if a person drinks, he becomes stronger than an ordinary person and a maniac - physically surpasses him;
Increased reactions and aggression are evident. Max lost many times in order to overcome many maniacs, and then he stopped drinking it because he didn't even want to smell it, try to touch it, because it later caused a severe defect.
Defects: Max and his friend didn't know that you can't drink this bottle; you have to mix it with something, with some other drugs. Because of this, when they were in the forest trying to catch the clown who took the girl, they made a mistake. They asked Max to tie his friend to a tree. When he gave him a drink from the bottle, Max became very aggressive and managed to break the ties. Then he ran into the forest, then ran after him. When Max felt sick again, he completely lost his mind. Then he found the bottle and drank again. Before that, Anton found Max first. He injected him with some antidote and told him that it was better not to drink all that crap if he didn't know how to use it. He left. In the end, everything was fine with Max.
Maniacs are those who went over to Max and the team's side.
Scar is a character with a noticeable scar across the left side of his face. He was a senior member of the old gang, but after an internal schism, he found himself outlawed by both former and new members. He used to lead night raids and knew the workings of all the checkpoints and patrols. When Max accidentally stumbled upon him in a hideout and didn't attack, Scar appreciated the gesture and agreed to provide information: precise shift schedules, weak points in the defense, the names of those taking bribes and potentially letting the group through. He didn't get into fights, but his intelligence saved the team from ambushes more than once. He has a cynical, tired personality, and speaks bluntly and harshly, without embellishment. Needle isn't a classic maniac, but rather a "master of traps": she set tripwires, camouflaged traps, and left false trails so that even experienced players were caught. Her nickname stemmed from her use of thin metal threads and needles as part of her mechanisms. She helped Max in the warehouse district episode, when a group appeared there and began hunting everyone, including her. Needle agreed to show them safe routes and dismantle the most dangerous traps along the way, but on one condition: no one touched her "workshop" areas. She worked quietly, barely communicating with the team, but her contribution was enormous: several times, she literally removed deadly traps right before the team was about to pass.
Maniacs are those who went over to Max and the team's side.
Raven is a character with strong symbolism: black clothing, a mask with a beak, and a stylized image, he likes to leave "signs" in the form of raven feathers. Initially, he appeared as a mysterious adversary, planting false leads and pitting groups against each other. A temporary alliance was formed due to a common threat: a new gang had arrived in the city, defying the old rules and wiping out everyone in sight. Raven shared information about planned attacks and even covered Max in one skirmish—but immediately afterwards, he disappeared again, leaving only a feather at the meeting place.
Fog—he got his nickname from his habit of appearing and disappearing seemingly out of nowhere, especially in thick fog or dense smoke. He used to "hunt" players, luring them into traps using sound recordings and false trails. He helped Max when, instead of running away, he followed the sound and frankly said, "I need your help to get people out." From that moment on, Fog became a master of distraction: he would deliberately make noise, turn on sirens, and draw the enemy's attention while the team quietly extracted the hostages. He's a taciturn character, follows a strict plan, and doesn't like unnecessary words.
Fang is the former "guardian" of an abandoned hospital: he's not so much a maniac as a fanatical guardian of the territory, punishing anyone who entered. His distinguishing features are a mask with protruding "fangs" and heavy boots that clack loudly as he walks up the metal stairs. His alliance with Max was forced: a new gang had arrived at the hospital, started smashing everything and making public executions. Fang hated this gang more than he hated Max, so he agreed to work together: he knew all the secret passages, ventilation shafts, and places to set up ambushes. In battle, he acted aggressively and without mercy towards common enemies, but towards the team
Maniacs are those who went over to Max and the team's side.
Rusty —the nickname stuck because of his distinctive jacket, scuffed and stained, as if by rust. At first, he was a typical "lone hunter": he set traps for players and made no contact. He formed an alliance with Max in an "abandoned industrial zone": Rusty's younger brother was kidnapped, and Max was the only one who actually offered to help. In exchange, Rusty provided precise directions to dangerous areas and warned about patrols from another gang. He has a rough, distrustful personality, but he fights to the end for his own. Leshy *is a character from the "forest" series. The nickname is less about his appearance than his style: he rarely ventures into open spaces, moves silently through the forest, and leaves marks on trees. Leshy was never a classic maniac, but rather a "master of the territory" who harshly punished outsiders. He helped Max when he accidentally stumbled into his trap and, instead of fighting, honestly explained that he was looking for the missing group. From then on, Leshy acted as a guide and observer: perched on elevated positions, spotting movement before anyone else, and signaling.
Kirill (his character)
Kirill: (appearance)
Kirill was at first an adversary, but then became a temporary ally.
In costume (as a maniac): *
A dark balaclava mask with slits that covers the upper part of the face but leaves the lower jaw and mouth visible - this creates a "blank stare" effect.
A bomber jacket *made of thick fabric, usually dark gray or black, with scuffs: it looks like an item that has been worn for years and is good for stealth movement.
Fingerless gloves : a practical choice for fights and at the same time part of a recognizable silhouette.
Tactical pants *with patch pockets, in which he hides small tools (like hooks, ropes, lock picks).
Rough boots *with thick soles - to walk silently on concrete and debris in abandoned buildings.
In some scenes, a piece of dark fabric *like cloak: it helps him blend into the shadows in dilapidated buildings.
Without the suit (when he drops the mask and becomes "Kirill the Ally"): *
An ordinary face, without makeup: sharp, but not rough features, short hair, a tired look.
He dresses simply: a dark blue hoodie , jeans without unnecessary details, sneakers *.
Sometimes he wears a black cap *with the visor forward - this is no longer part of the maniac image, but a way to remain unnoticed in a crowd.
He has scars and abrasions on his hands - they are not removed and serve as a reminder of his past.
Denis
Appearance: stocky, sturdy, and looks reliable. His face is calm, with a slight tiredness, as if he's used to staying up all night. He wears simple clothes: a sweatshirt, jeans, and thick-soled shoes. On his belt is a carabiner, to which he sometimes attaches small items. His accessories are simple.
Igor
##Igor
Appearance: *Tall, slightly stooped, as if accustomed to bending over to avoid hitting the low ceilings. His face is calm, with a slight half-smile that doesn't fade even in tense moments. He wears an old fleece-lined jacket, with several patches on the sleeve featuring the logos of long-defunct radio clubs. He's almost always fiddling with something in his hands: a keychain, a nut, any small object.
Lesha
Appearance: *Average height, lean, but agile. His face is lively and alert, and he smiles often, but the smile quickly fades when he notices something alarming. He wears an old jacket with numerous pockets, each constantly jingling. He carries a small backpack over his shoulder, which always contains a flashlight, a multi-tool, and a couple of spare batteries.
Max's friend
Projectionist
In costume: an old uniform tunic with buttons on which the pattern has worn off, and a cap with a short visor. On the belt is a bunch of keys to the projection rooms and technical doors. In his hands, he often holds a roll of film or a piece of celluloid, which he fingers like a rosary.
No suit:** A middle-aged man with a tired but tenacious gaze. He has a habit of tilting his head slightly, as if he is listening to a sound that only he and the projector can hear. On the fingers there are yellow spots from chemicals for developing the film.
Character:** perceives reality as a film that can be re-edited. He likes to "rewind" events: he arranges situations that are repeated twice, but with slight changes to confuse the victim. In the stories, he often turns off the lights at the right moment, turns on old recordings of voices or projects shots on the walls that should not be there: for example, the shadow of Max walking down the corridor, although Max himself is standing in a different place. His logic is simple: "If you are not in the frame, you do not exist"
Gardener
Dressed: A rough canvas jumpsuit with pockets stuffed with branch clippings, seeds, and strange roots. On his shoulders is a tattered work jacket, and on his head is a wide-brimmed hat that almost completely hides his face. In his hands are pruning shears with unusually long blades and a basket in which, instead of flowers, there are rolled newspapers with notes about the loss.
No costume:** His face is calm, even peaceful, as if he had just stepped out of the shade of the trees. The skin is tanned, weathered, with small scratches from thorns. His eyes are bright, attentive, he does not look straight, but slightly to the side, as if he notices movement on the periphery of vision.
Personality:** believes that "everything unnecessary should be cut off". He perceives people as weeds that prevent something "real" from growing. He likes to create "living traps": thickets that close behind his back, paths leading to blind dead ends, bushes with sharp thorns, placed so that the victim injures himself. In stories, he often leaves small paper bags of seeds on benches or at the door: inside there is a note with one phrase: "You won't take root here."
Postman-night
In the suit: the uniform is almost the same as that of a regular postman, but with one difference - there are no identification marks on the jacket, and the cap is pulled so low that the face is not visible. His bag is not made of fabric, but of thick tarpaulin, and it is almost always empty. In his hand is a single envelope, which he holds out without saying a word.
No suit:** His face is pale, almost colorless, his features blurred, as if he had been filmed through foggy glass. It moves smoothly, without sudden movements, and hardly breathes – at least it seems so to those who see it.
** Character:** he does not deliver letters, but delivers "consequences". The envelope he hands over always contains something that changes everything: a photo of a missing person, a train ticket to nowhere, a note with the date of someone's death. He appears only in the dark and always knows where you are. His presence is felt not by the eyes, but by the skin - like the cold that comes before you see his figure.
Locksmith
In a suit: overalls with oil stains, a badge with a false name on the chest. On his belt was a heavy box with tools: adjustable wrenches, wire cutters, hammers. He often holds a wrench in his hand, which he taps on railings or pipes, as if checking how reliable everything is.
Without a suit:** strong, wiry, with rough hands and calluses. His face is calm, almost indifferent, as if he is used to seeing things that frighten others. His gaze is direct, heavy, he rarely blinks.
Personality:** perceives the world as a mechanism that can be disassembled and reassembled. He likes to change locks, remove doors from their hinges, block exits. For him, people are unnecessary details that interfere with work. In the plots, he often turns out to be the one who "fixes" the traps of other maniacs: he puts new bolts, changes routes, makes sure that the doors open in the wrong direction. His phrase: "Everything here rests on bolts. And I unscrew the bolts."
Photographer
In a suit: a simple windbreaker, jeans, sneakers - looks like an ordinary passerby. The only detail is that a cheap camera with a cracked lens hangs around her neck, and a roll of photo paper is in her pocket. Sometimes he carries a small printer that prints pictures on the go.
No suit:** A young guy with a nervous, agile face. Often blinks as if the light is too bright. He smiles inappropriately, and when he is worried, he begins to mumble something about "the right angle" and "natural light".
Character:** Not so much a maniac as obsessed with fixation. He does not want to hurt, but he cannot stop: he needs to capture the "moment of truth" – the moment when a person understands that he cannot be saved. In the stories, he does not attack first, but he can stand in the shadows and film while others do the dirty work. His danger is that he is omnipresent: his pictures are found in mailboxes, under doors, in the pockets of other people's jackets.
Cleaner
Suit: Standard cleaning uniform: a dark blue jacket with a logo that does not exist anywhere else, and pants with deep pockets. On the belt there is a bunch of brushes, mops, rags, as well as several cans of cleaning products, the labels on which are glued over. In his hands is a bucket half filled with muddy water, in which strange objects float: a button, a key, a fragment of a photo.
No suit:** An unremarkable man, almost transparent in the crowd. His face is expressionless, his voice is quiet, his intonations are even, as if he is constantly holding back his emotions. The only thing that makes it stand out is perfectly clean nails and the habit of constantly rubbing your hands, even if they are already washed.
Personality:** believes that "everything unnecessary should be erased". For him, blood, traces, prints are dirt, which he methodically removes by erasing any evidence. He can appear in the entrance immediately after the chase and calmly wash the floor where there was a fight just now. His behavior is frightening precisely because of the ordinary: he does his job without looking at what is happening around him. In the stories, he often witnesses everything, but answers questions in monosyllables: "I haven't seen it", "Wiped it", "It's already clean".
Chasovik
In a suit: a dark frock coat with many small pockets, each with gears, springs, screws. On his chest there is a chain from a pocket watch, but there is no watch itself: he never wears it, "so as not to hear too much." On her hands are thin leather gloves so as not to leave prints. On his left wrist is a strange bracelet made of connected links, which jingles softly with every movement.
No suit:** A thin, dry face with sharp features, as if carved from wood. The eyes are dark, motionless, they look as if they do not see you, but the time that you have left. Her hair is slicked back, revealing a high forehead, crossed by thin scars - as if from shards of glass.
Personality:** Obsessed with accuracy and timing. It does not just pursue, but "calculates" the moment when the victim will be at the right point at the right time. He likes to set traps that work on a timer: doors that slam shut after exactly 3 minutes, corridors where lamps go out second by second. His favorite phrase is: "Time does not wait, and I do not wait." In stories, he often leaves a broken clock in places where something is about to happen — and the hands on it always show the same time.
Baker
Suit: thick white apron with flour stains, over an old jacket with frayed sleeves. On his head was a kitchen scarf, tightly tied so as not to interfere. In his hands is a wooden shovel for baking, but its blade is suspiciously sharp, and the edges are serrated. On the belt there are several bags with various bulk mixtures: flour, salt, ash.
No suit:** Round-faced, with rosy cheeks as if he had just come out of a hot bakery. The smile is wide, and the gaze is strangely intense, as if it is evaluating a person like an ingredient. The skin is slightly reddened from the heat, there are old burns on the forearms.
Character: His cruelty is covered by "care": he seems to want to "bake" something "better" out of people. He likes to leave hot rolls in the entrances and on the benches, inside which are hidden notes with threats or pieces of cards. His logic is frighteningly mundane: "Raw food is not eaten", "Everything must be brought to readiness". In the plots, it often appears where it smells of pastries - although there is not a single bakery nearby.
Postman
In a suit: a standard uniform with faded patches, a cap with a hard visor, a shoulder bag stuffed with envelopes and packages. There were scratches and traces of tape on the bag, as if it had been opened and re-sealed many times.
No suit:** An unremarkable middle-aged man. Facial features seem not to be remembered on purpose: no bright details, no scars, no special signs. Even the color of the eyes is difficult to describe - they seem either gray or dark brown depending on the lighting.
Personality:** He does not so much attack as deliver. His "packages" are clues, clues, and sometimes victims' belongings that are supposed to lead Max and his friends to the right place. He always knows who is where, and leaves letters in places where they cannot be overlooked: in a jacket pocket, between the pages of a book, right on the table when everyone has turned away. He acts calmly, methodically, as if he is carrying out a plan. In the stories, he is often the last person to see the victim before disappearing, and at the same time claims that he "just brought a letter"
Electrician
In a suit: overalls with many pockets, a badge with a faded photo on the chest. On his head is a helmet with a flashlight, which burns and then goes out on its own. In his hands is a set of tools: wire cutters, electrical tape, multimeter. Sometimes he wears gloves with his fingers cut off to get a better feel for the wires.
No suit:** A sturdy, wiry man with burnt fingers and a scar along his wrist. The face is hard, cheekbones, the gaze is straight and heavy. He hardly smiles, and if he does, it is in short, chopped phrases.
Character: perceives the city as a huge power grid, and people as elements of a chain. For him, turning off the light is not an accident, but a way to isolate the victim. He likes to play with electricity: turn the current on and off in the entrances, leave bare wires in places where someone will definitely go. In the stories, it often appears where the connection is lost and the battery dies: it seems to "pull" energy from the space. His favorite phrase is: "There is no food here. There is nothing here at all."
Librarian
LibrarianIn a suit: an old-fashioned knitted vest over a buttoned-up shirt, dark pants, soft-soled shoes - he walks almost silently. On his nose are thin-framed glasses, which he constantly adjusts. He often holds a tattered book or a stack of catalog cards in his hands.
No costume:** The face is calm, even friendly, with a slight smile that doesn't reach the eyes. The hair is neatly combed, and the nails are cut to the root. In general, he looks like a person who is used to silence and order.
Personality:** believes that "everything should be in its place", and people who break the order are "errors in the catalog". He does not make bloody scenes, but rather "archives" the victims: he hides them in closed sections, behind fake shelves, in rooms that are not on the building plans. In the stories, he often leaves cards with the names of the missing, putting the date and the stamp "Out" on them. He likes to quote books, distorting the meaning of phrases so that they sound like a sentence.
Street cleaner
In costume: dark gray robe with a patch "Landscaping Service", heavy boots, gloves made of coarse fabric. In his hands is a broom with an unusually long handle and an iron tip, which he clearly does not use for cleaning. On the belt there is a bunch of keys to technical rooms, elevator shafts and basements.
No suit:** An ordinary elderly man with a tired, unremarkable face. The only thing that makes him stand out is very clean, well-groomed hands with long fingers, as if he is specially watching them. The gaze is calm, almost sleepy, but something tenacious flashes in it.
Character:** acts quietly and matter-of-factly, as if he continues to perform his duties. He knows all the "blind spots" of the area: where cameras do not work, where passers-by do not look, what hatches lead to tunnels. In stories, he often appears where everything looks "too normal": a perfectly swept yard, evenly placed garbage cans, entrances closed for repairs. His logic is simple: "Garbage needs to be cleaned up, and extra people are garbage."
Photographer
** In a suit:** a battered leather raincoat, around his neck - several cameras on straps, as if he could not choose which one to take. On his head is an old cap with a very wide brim, almost completely hiding his face. Rolls of film jingle in the pockets, and on the sleeve there are stains of developer that look like dried blood.
Without a suit:** thin, nervous face, eyes a little stiff, as if he had been staring through the viewfinder for too long. The skin is pale, with a fine network of burst vessels at the temples - like a person who spends a lot of time in a dark room under red light. Movements are sharp, twitchy.
Personality:** Obsessed with fixing the "perfect moment". For him, murder is a shot that cannot be missed. He does not want to hurt so much as to "catch" the emotion on film. In the stories, he often leaves photos of victims in places where they will definitely be found: on benches, in mailboxes, under the wipers of cars. He likes to whisper phrases like "Smile, you're in history" or "No one will repeat this moment."
Conductor
In costume: Clothes of a railway worker or depot worker - a dark jacket with patches, a cap, thick trousers. On the sleeve there is a patch with a number, which changes slightly in different videos. He often holds a lantern with a dim light in his hands, which flashes in time with his steps.
No suit:** An ordinary middle-aged man who does not stand out in any way. The only thing that catches the eye is very calm, almost motionless eyes and the habit of tilting his head slightly, as if listening to something far away.
Personality:** acts as a "guard" of the borders: he appears at train stations, in depots, on deserted stretches and does not so much attack as prevent him from leaving. Its trick is to confuse routes: it can show a "shortcut" that leads to a dead end, or give a map where all the arrows lead to the same place. In history, it is associated with the theme of trains and closed spaces, where it is easy to lose orientation.
Doctor
In a suit: A classic white coat, but heavily worn, with stains and sloppy patches. On his neck there is a stethoscope, which he almost does not use for its intended purpose. He often wears a medical cap and a mask that covers the lower part of his face. In his hands is an old bag, in which something is always ringing.
No suit:** Under the robe is a simple gray garment, unremarkable. The face is calm, even tired, with a slight gray hair at the temples. His gaze is attentive, as if he constantly assesses the state of a person.
Character:** A manipulator who presses on guilt and fear. She likes to "diagnose" victims, say frightening things in a calm tone. In the stories, he often pretends that he wants to help, and then abruptly changes his behavior. His lair looks like an improvised clinic, where instead of medicines there are strange tools and jars with incomprehensible liquids.
Shadow
In costume: *He doesn't really have a full costume—only a long, dark, almost ground-length cloak that seems to absorb light. Sometimes he wears a thick, dark balaclava or a hood that completely conceals his head. His other details include heavy boots that leave deep marks and fingerless gloves. His appearance is deliberately crafted to be unnoticeable.
Without costume: *In the rare shots where his face flashes, it's almost impossible to make out: his features seem blurred, as if poorly filmed. His skin is unnaturally pale, his eyes are barely visible—either because of the shadows or because of some other peculiarity. In some videos, he hints at scars, but they're only hinted at—shadows, highlights, and sharp angles.
Personality: Extremely patient and observant. He doesn't stage noisy chases, but waits for his prey to arrive at the desired location. He acts in sequential patterns: first, he stalks for weeks, then leaves barely noticeable marks (a hair on a doorknob, a shifted rug). In the stories, he often appears in places where Max feels he's being watched, but can't see anyone. He also began to help Max and his team by showing them safe routes, acting as a guide for them.
Butcher
In costume: his image is immediately associated with his profession - a dark apron, gloves, sometimes a robe, or clothes stained with blood. There may be specific tools (knives, cutting boards) that he uses for other purposes
Without a suit: in ordinary life (if such is shown) he may look quite ordinary, but there are disturbing notes in his behavior. The face is often hidden, but when it is open, obsession and cruelty can be read in the features.
Personality:** Impulsive, prone to violence. His actions are more chaotic and cruel compared to the Degreaser. In the plot, it is associated with serial murders, often appears in stories where the heroes investigate a chain of crimes.
prehistory
Max returns to his house with Vika and Artyom. The street is quiet, every other streetlight is on, and a slight dampness hangs in the air from the recent rain. At the entrance, Max notices that his mailbox is slightly open—it usually snaps shut tightly. Inside is a thin envelope with no stamp or address, only his name written in black block letters. Max opens it: inside is a single photograph of the street they are standing on, seemingly taken from the window of a neighboring house. On the back are coordinates and a short note: "Look where this was taken from." Vika leans over, peers at the photo, and quietly remarks that the angle matches the attic window of an old house at the end of the block—the very same one where two teenagers disappeared six months ago. At that moment, a dim light flickers in a window on the third floor of the maniac's house—it comes on and then goes out, as if someone was checking to see if he was being followed.
The friends walk through the courtyard that connects Max's street with the alley leading to the maniac's house. Artyom, who used to do some orienteering, immediately notices strange markings: barely noticeable marks on the asphalt, curbs, and even on the tree trunks—not painted, but as if scratched with a sharp object. He connects them with his eyes and sees that they form a route: from Max's driveway, through an archway, to an abandoned shed by the fence. Lying on the ground near the shed is a broken keychain with a faded keychain—the same one the missing girl had. Kira crouches to examine it and suddenly freezes: from around the corner of the maniac's house comes a soft sound—like someone slowly running a key across a metal surface. The sound cuts off, but a feeling hangs in the courtyard as if they are being watched from the darkness between the houses.
Prehistory
The gym has long since been stripped of any equipment or exercise machines—only bare walls and mats piled in the center. Max and Kira enter cautiously: Kira immediately notices that the mats are dust-free, as if they'd been recently moved. A workout schedule with crossed-out dates hangs on the wall, and a short list of names is taped to the top. Kira leans over to read it and suddenly recoils: a shadow is clearly visible on the floor, even though there's no light source in the room to cast it. The shadow doesn't stay still—it slowly creeps across the floor, as if someone were walking above the ceiling. The door to the locker room slams, though there's no draft. Max takes a step toward the exit, and at that very moment, another imprint appears on the mats—a fresh one, as if someone had just stood up and stepped into the shadows.
Max and Denis descend into a long underground passageway where stalls used to sell goods. Now it's empty, only old flyers hang on the walls, many of them covered with layers of paper. Denis tears off the top sheet—underneath it lies a black-and-white photograph of the street they've just passed. He tears off another—it's the same street, but from a different angle, as if it were taken surreptitiously. Max notices that all the flyers aren't hung haphazardly, but according to a clear pattern: when viewed from a certain angle, the lines from the edges of the sheets form an arrow pointing to a dead end. At the dead end lies a handleless iron door, and on the concrete in front of it, someone has scratched a short phrase: "They see everything." At that moment, the lights above their heads click loudly: one after another, they flicker on and then go out, as if someone is checking the wiring. Cold air comes from the ventilation grille, and from there comes a quiet whisper, in which one word can barely be made out: “wait.”
prehistory
Max goes up to the observatory with Vika, who understands astronomy and immediately notices that the dome isn't positioned in the standard way. It's dusty inside, and the telescope is at an odd angle, as if it were set up not to observe the sky but to look at a specific area of the city. An observation log is open on the table, its pages covered with coordinates, and a star chart with the constellations circled lies nearby. Vika runs her finger along the lines and suddenly freezes: if she connects the marks, she gets the same pattern as on the wall in the old laundry room. At that moment, a dull thud emanates from beneath the floor, as if someone is slamming a heavy object into empty space. The sound repeats three times, then stops, and in the silence, the slow turning of a metal shutter can be heard somewhere.
Max and Artyom navigate through stacks of crates in an old glass warehouse. The space is cramped, the air is stale, and strange reflections flicker in the bottles on the upper shelves—as if someone is walking through the warehouse with a flashlight, but there's no light anywhere. Artyom notices a trail of small shards on the floor, leading into a dark hallway. He takes a step forward, and one of the bottles on the shelf clanks softly, as if it's been knocked over. Max pulls his friend back, but Artyom has already spotted a sign scratched into the wall: "Don't look into the glass." At the same moment, all the bottles in the row closest to him clank simultaneously, as if a draft had blown through them that shouldn't be there. A quiet laugh, short and sharp, as if cut off mid-sentence, echoes from the darkness of the hallway.
Max arrives at the port with Lyosha—he used to work at the docks and knows where to look for hidden places. They find a container standing alone, as if it had been deliberately moved away from the others. Lyosha checks the hinges: they'd been greased only recently. Inside, it's empty, only a thin layer of sand on the floor and a metal box in the corner.
prehistory
A lonely construction trailer stands at an abandoned construction site. The door is ajar, and inside, darkness and the smell of damp fill the air. On the table lies an open notebook with a rough plan of the building, over which someone has hastily sketched a diagram of the underground passages. A jacket with a torn tag lies in the corner. Max picks it up and notices subtle abrasions on the lining, as if it had been caught on something sharp. He takes a step toward the window, and a drawn-out creaking sound echoes beneath the floorboards—not from his weight, but as if someone were slowly moving beneath the decking. At the same moment, a metal shutter slams outside, the sound carrying across the empty site, and the echo seems to repeat it twice.
The lighthouse has long since stopped working, but the staircase inside is still sturdy. Max climbs to the lantern room, where the spotlight is frozen, pointed not out to sea, but inland. On the floor lies a pile of pebbles, arranged in the shape of an arrow. Nearby lies a broken compass: the needle doesn't waver, but is frozen solid at a mark that doesn't align with any direction. Max bends down to examine it and hears someone quietly moving heavy objects down the stairwell. The footsteps don't approach, but they don't recede either—as if the observer is frozen, waiting for Max to descend. A short phrase is scrawled in chalk on the wall: "Don't look down."
In the basement of a former photo studio, shelves are stacked with boxes of negatives. Max opens one—inside are rolls of film depicting city streets, seemingly captured surreptitiously. Another box has a sticker with a date that hasn't yet arrived. He reaches for a third, and the lid slides open, scattering tiny cards with fragments of faces across the floor. Among them, Max spots a familiar profile—the man he's been looking for. At that moment, a camera shutter clicks in the far corner, though the room is empty of any working equipment. The sound is repeated closer, as if someone is taking photographs from the darkness.
prehistory
Max climbs a steep path to the weather station on the hillside. The building is leaning, the windows are broken, and the wind blows scraps of paper across the floor. In the control room, an open observation log lies on the table—the pages are filled with neat handwriting, but the most recent entries are recent: the dates match the days of the disappearances. Nearby is a map with pins, all gathered in the same area of the forest. Max reaches for the map, and at that moment a soft crackling sound comes from the corner—like someone flicking a switch on an old radio. The sound cuts off, but in the silence, the feeling of activity remains. On the windowsill, Max notices a fresh mark from a mug—a damp ring on the dusty surface.
A lonely construction trailer stands at an abandoned construction site. The door is ajar, and inside, darkness and the smell of damp fill the air. On the table lies an open notebook with a rough plan of the building, over which someone has hastily sketched a diagram of the underground passages. A jacket with a torn tag lies in the corner. Max picks it up and notices subtle abrasions on the lining, as if it had been caught on something sharp. He takes a step toward the window, and a drawn-out creaking sound echoes beneath the floorboards—not from his weight, but as if someone were slowly moving beneath the decking. At the same moment, a metal shutter slams outside, the sound carrying across the empty site, and the echo seems to repeat it twice.
The lighthouse has long since stopped working, but the staircase inside is still sturdy. Max climbs up to the lantern room, where the spotlight is frozen, pointed not out to sea, but inland. On the floor is a pile of pebbles, arranged in the shape of an arrow. A broken compass lies nearby: the needle isn't shaking, but frozen solid at a mark that doesn't align with any of the directions. Max bends down to examine it and hears someone quietly moving heavy objects down in the stairwell. The footsteps don't come closer, but they don't move away either—as if on
Prehistory
The former laundromat has long since lost its machines and running water, but wet footprints remain on the tiled floor, as if someone had passed through quite recently. Max follows them past rusty bins and empty shelves. In the far corner, he finds the door to the utility room, slightly open. Inside, a shelf with neatly folded towels sits, one of them with a fresh stain that looks like blood. A burner phone lies nearby, its screen on: a countdown timer blinks, counting down from three minutes. Max reaches for the phone, and at that moment, a soft scraping sound comes from the vent above his head, as if someone were crawling through a box. The sound fades, and the timer on the screen clicks: two minutes left.
Max emerges onto an old pier: the boards are rotten, the railings are wobbly, and a lonely boat, without oars, bobs near the shore. On a bench nearby lies a crumpled jacket, embroidered on the lining with a monogram that Max has already seen in the photo of the missing man. He approaches the boat, and the water near the side suddenly ripples, as if something is moving beneath the surface. In the bottom of the boat is a coil of rope and a small waterproof case. Max lifts the case, snaps the latches, and inside is a stack of photographs: all of them show him in various places around the city, taken from afar. At that very moment, a soft splash is heard from the far end of the pier, as if someone has jumped into the water or, conversely, climbed ashore. Max turns around, but sees only fog slowly creeping over the water.
Prehistory
Max enters the old substation: the rusty gates are ajar, as if someone had recently touched them. Inside is a row of concrete boxes, empty electrical panels with torn-out panels, and scraps of cable litter the floor. He notices a single wire running across the entire room to a locked door in the far corner. Max tugs on it—the wire is not taut, just lying there, but fresh nicks are visible on the insulation, as if someone had dragged a knife across it. The door doesn't budge, but a thin strip of light glows in the crack beneath it. Max presses his ear to it—a steady hum emanates from within, like a transformer, even though the substation has long been de-energized. At that moment, a relay clicks behind him, and all the lights in the empty room flicker on for a second, then go out, leaving behind the smell of ozone.
The abandoned movie theater looks like it was interrupted mid-show: the seats are pushed together, popcorn and tickets are scattered on the floor. Max moves to the back row—it's always darker there, and that's where all the clues usually lead. A folded blanket, still warm, lies on the seat. Next to it is an open thermos, containing cold coffee. Max looks around: on the wall above the screen, an arrow is drawn in chalk, leading down the service corridor. He takes a step in that direction, and from the darkness of the corridor comes a soft sound—like someone slowly flipping through the pages of a notebook. The sound stops as soon as Max stops, but as he moves further, it repeats, this time closer.
Max finds a garage that's unlike any other: a large mirror hangs opposite the gate, as if to see who's approaching from behind. He opens the door—it's dim inside, the air is thick with the smell of gasoline and old leather. A set of tools lies neatly laid out on the workbench, as if they'd been used just a moment ago. Max notices a boot print on the floor, leading to a hatch in the floor. The hatch is slightly open, and dampness wafts from the crack. Max bends down to look.
Prehistory
A lonely, unmarked bus stands at the final stop. The doors are ajar, and it's dark inside, but the steering wheel is still warm in the driver's cabin. Max peers inside: broken glass and a crumpled city map with several courtyards circled on the floor. He picks up the map, and at that moment, a lock clicks quietly at the far end of the bus. Max turns around—a dark silhouette appears in the doorway, motionless, as if studying him. A second later, the figure retreats into the darkness, and the bus is empty, leaving only a barely visible handprint on the glass.
Max picks his way between stacks of boards in an old warehouse. Sawdust crunches underfoot, and thick dust hangs in the air. He notices fresh scratches on one of the boards—as if something heavy had been dragged across it. He follows a trail that winds between the rows and comes to a dead end. Nearby, a boot print is clearly imprinted in the sawdust, ending abruptly at a crack in the partition. Max bends down to peer inside and hears boards being quietly pushed aside behind the nearest stack. The sound fades, but in the silence, someone's even breathing is clearly audible.
Prehistory
Max descends into an old sewer—he was led there by the coordinates from the envelope he found in the car. The tunnel is damp, drops fall rhythmically from the ceiling, and the light from the flashlight picks out only a narrow passage from the darkness. There are markings on the concrete walls: short strokes, grouped together, as if someone was keeping track. Max follows them until he comes to a fork in the road. At the junction of the pipes lies a crumpled raincoat, and next to it a plastic pass with someone else's photograph. He picks it up, and at that moment, somewhere ahead, a metal shutter clicks. The sound is repeated closer, as if someone is moving heavy manhole covers, blocking the way back.
In the semi-abandoned auto repair shop, all the bays are open, but the interior is empty: no cars, no tools, only dust on the workbenches. Max checks the far corner—there's a dark stain on the floor, as if something had recently been spilled. A board with keys hangs on the wall; almost all the hooks are empty, but one holds a bunch of keys with a tag on which the name of a missing person is scratched. Max takes the keys, and then a soft scraping sound comes from the next room—like someone dragging a heavy box across concrete. He takes a step toward the door, and the light above the doorway begins to flicker, revealing a short chalk message on the wall: "Do not touch."
Max climbs a rusty staircase inside an abandoned water tower. The steps creak, the railings sway, and the air grows heavier. On each flight, he notices identical markings—tiny crosses, as if someone had marked each climb. The staircase goes higher than the tower's appearance would suggest, and Max realizes that part of the structure is hidden. On the landing between the tiers, he finds a scrap of cloth caught on a pin, and next to it, an empty first aid kit with its compartments torn out. He reaches for the kit, and a heavy footstep sounds from above, as if someone is standing on the next flight, in no hurry to descend.
Prehistory
In the old city library, Max searches for any clues about the disappearance chain. He goes to the card catalog, where the entries for the relevant years should be. The drawers are half empty: almost no cards, only a solitary piece of paper with a torn out number and the note "Moved" lies at the bottom of one. The librarian in the back room doesn't look up, as if he doesn't notice Max. He walks between the shelves and notices a stack of books on one shelf, not arranged alphabetically—they've clearly just been touched. Max picks up the top one: inside is a slip of paper with a short list of addresses. He manages to read two of them before the lights go out. In the darkness, he can hear someone quickly walking between the aisles, not touching the floor.
Max climbs to the observation deck above the industrial zone: from there, he can see all the access roads and old warehouses. The wind flutters the scraps of fencing tape. He takes out his binoculars and scans the area. There's a flicker of movement in one of the courtyards, but when he focuses, there's no one there. However, a shadow is clearly visible on the asphalt—long, as if cast by a tall person, but there's nothing nearby. Max descends the stairs to check the courtyard. On the steps, he notices small shards of glass and a footprint that ends abruptly at the wall. He takes another step—and hears a door slam upstairs that wasn't there before.
Prehistory
Max descends into the basement of an abandoned printing house—it used to be used to store archives and rolls of paper. Something rustles in the darkness: rats, or the wind blowing scraps of newspaper. There are tracks on the floor, as if someone was dragging a heavy object. Max follows them past empty shelves and comes to a stop at a handleless iron door. He pushes it with his shoulder—the door gives way, and a chill wafts through the crack. Inside is a windowless room, newspaper clippings scattered on the table, with missing person notices circled. A calendar hangs on the wall, with each day crossed out, and the last one circled in red and marked with a single letter: "M." Max reaches for the clippings, and at that moment, somewhere in the depths of the basement, a lock clicks.
Max arrives at a half-abandoned station following a tip from an anonymous message. The train is parked on the tracks—the carriages are dark, not a single light in the windows. He peers into the vestibule: the doors are open, the interior is empty, only ash is scattered on the floor, as if someone had flicked out a cigarette. Max walks through the carriages, listening to the creaking of metal. In the last carriage, a folded jacket, still warm, lies on a seat. Next to it is a ticket with a date that has not yet arrived. Max takes the ticket, and then the train jerks. He rushes to the exit, manages to jump out onto the platform, and the train slowly moves off, carrying the empty carriage with the lonely jacket into the darkness.
Max checks a row of garages on the outskirts: according to the photo from the correspondence, one of them is connected to the kidnapping. All the doors are numbered, but the numbers are not sequential, but repeat: 14, 14, 27, 14. One garage has a lock hanging from the outside, as if it had just been removed. Max pulls the door—it opens with a drawn-out creak. It's dark inside, smelling of machine oil and dust. On the concrete floor, there's a fresh tire tread, receding into shadow. He takes a step forward, and something thin crunches under his foot—a fragment of a photograph. Max picks it up: on the fragment is the corner of a familiar street and part of someone's silhouette. At that moment, there's a quiet clicking sound behind him.
Prehistory
A huge, dimly lit warehouse is lined with rows of identical boxes. Max checks them one by one. In one, he finds a ring of keys and a notebook with notes written in an incomprehensible code. One of the pages is dated—one matches the day Max's acquaintance disappeared. A switch at the far end clicks, and a dim light comes on. Max hides behind a stack and sees a man in dark clothing walking down the aisle, carrying another box.
In an abandoned vacant lot where a factory once stood, Max finds a circle of small stones. Inside is a folded piece of paper with a short phrase: "They know what you're looking for." His phone vibrates: another unknown number. Max doesn't answer, but the screen shows the call coming from directly behind him. He slowly turns around, but behind him are only rusty beams, concrete slabs, and a thick shadow between them.
In an abandoned subway tunnel, the lights flicker and the connection is lost. Max finds his friend tied up in a niche and a note: "He'll stay here if you don't return in 10 minutes." He rushes to the exit to call for help, but instead of the police, a masked man is waiting for him on the platform. A blow to the head knocks him unconscious. When Max comes to, he's lying on the cold concrete, next to a piece of metal chain and a dark drag mark leading deeper into the tunnel.
The doors in the house are closing by themselves, the windows won't open, and identical notes appear in the rooms: "You won't get out." It becomes clear it's a trap: the maniac is controlling the premises remotely. Max finds the server room and disables the automatic controls—the doors click open. But at the exit, the maniac himself is waiting for them with a gun. A sharp jolt from the door knocks him off his feet, and the team rushes out. Back in the car, Max receives a notification on his phone: "I can still see you."
Prehistory
In the basement of an abandoned movie theater, Max finds an iron door with a heavy padlock. Knocking it down with a crowbar, he finds himself in a narrow room with shelves lined with boxes. In one of them lies an old tape recorder. Max presses play, and a voice comes from the speaker, as if speaking directly to him. The creaking of floorboards comes from above: someone is walking around the theater. The beam of his flashlight picks out dates and names of missing people scratched into the wall. Footsteps slowly descend the stairs, and Max turns off the flashlight, disappearing into the darkness.
At a deserted night market, Max spots a figure in a long coat standing next to an electronics stall. He follows them into a maze of aisles between containers. The figure turns into a dead end and vanishes without a trace. Scrawled in chalk on the wall is the phrase "You're not the first to look." Nearby lies a crumpled sheet of paper with a list of names—among them is Max's close friend. A quiet laugh echoes from the darkness, and Max turns around abruptly to see no one: only the occasional streetlights dimly illuminate the empty aisles.
In a dusty hall of a former administrative building, Max leafs through a folder marked "Missing in Action, 1998–2003." Inside are photographs, reports, and a note about the night guard shift: three officers disappeared right from their post. In one photo, the face of a guard seems familiar to Max. He's about to check the details, but the lights in the hall flicker and then go out. A rustling sound can be heard in the darkness—someone sorting through folders on a nearby shelf. Max freezes, trying to hold his breath until the sound fades into the distance.
Max emerges onto an old, closed bridge. A red warning light flickers on the railing, unplugged. A bicycle lock with the number "7" scratched into it lies nearby. Shining a beam down, Max notices dark shapes in the water near the supports—as if there's an object lying on the bottom. Metal flashes in the beam. The light suddenly goes out, and a car door slams behind him.
Prehistory
Max and a friend get jobs as night shift orderlies at an old hospital where patients used to disappear. At night, the hallways are empty, the lights flicker. In the basement, they find a locked room with notes about "experiments." The door opens, and a man in a white coat emerges—it's the maniac. He doesn't attack right away, but says, "You came here yourself." Max pulls the fire alarm, the alarm goes off, and people run for the exits. In the chaos, the maniac disappears into the crowd, but not before giving Max a look as if they'll meet again.
An anonymous package is delivered to Max: inside are a missing girl's belongings and a flash drive. On the recording, the maniac says Max is "too close." The sender is tracked to a warehouse—a maze of boxes with surveillance cameras. The maniac contacts him again: "Find me before I find you." Hearing footsteps, Max hides and, as the maniac passes, steals his radio. The villain can be heard giving orders to an accomplice. The police arrive, but the warehouse is empty—only a chalk message on the wall reads: "See you again."
Prehistory
Max receives a file from a surveillance camera: it shows a maniac taking a man away from an abandoned gas station. He goes there with his partner to check it out. Everything looks too clean—as if they were expected. In the back room, Max finds a note: "You're next." At that moment, the lights go out, the doors lock, and the maniac starts talking to Max over the radio, giving him "tasks" to keep him alive. Max distracts the maniac with noise in the back room, his partner breaks out a window, and they escape. Outside, Max notices someone watching them from a car.
The friends find strange videos online: silhouettes flicker and whispers are heard in an abandoned tunnel. Max decides to film a report. The connection in the tunnel is lost, and the lights start flickering. Suddenly, one of the friends disappears. Max follows the tracks and finds him tied up in an alcove with a note nearby: "He will stay here if you don't return in 10 minutes." Max runs to the exit to call for help, but on the platform he's met not by the police, but by a masked man. He hits Max on the head, and the frame ends.
At first, Max and the team encounter something inexplicable: doors lock themselves, windows don't open, and identical notes appear in the rooms: "You won't get out." Gradually, it becomes clear that the house is a trap: the maniac is controlling it remotely through the smart home system. Max finds the server room, disables the automation, and all the doors open. But at the exit, the maniac himself is waiting for them with a gun. Max pushes the door, it hits the maniac, and the team jumps out. Back in the car, Max sees a notification on his phone: "I still see you."
Max receives an anonymous package containing a belonging belonging to one of the missing girls and a flash drive. The flash drive contains a short video: the maniac says Max is "too close" and will now become a target himself. Max tries to track down the sender and goes to a warehouse. Inside is a maze of boxes and a camera.
Max's frequent friends
*Violetta;
Prehistory
"There's someone among your friends who's helping the maniac." He doesn't reveal it right away, but begins monitoring everyone's behavior. During one of their forays, the friend deliberately leaves Max alone in the maniac's lair. Max narrowly escapes, returns to the team, and tests them: he asks everyone to tell him where they were on the day of the last kidnapping. The traitor reveals himself when he can't remember the details. He's tied up and handed over to the police, but the mastermind is still at large.
A schoolgirl's abandoned bag is found in the forest. Following the trail, they find an abandoned children's camp where strange incidents have occurred in the past. There, they meet the maniac's sister: she says she knows where the girls are being held, but she's afraid of her brother. Max decides to check the main building, while the friends head to the gatehouse. The maniac sets an ambush: he turns on sirens and blocks the exits. They eventually manage to free two of the girls, but the third remains in the maniac's custody.
The serial killer's sister secretly meets with Max and offers a deal: she'll tell him where the next kidnapping will take place if Max doesn't turn her in to the police. Max agrees, but sets a condition: she must help rescue the victim. At the appointed time, the team sets an ambush. The sister does indeed help, but at the last moment, the serial killer realizes he's been betrayed and attacks the sister. Max saves her, but the evidence against the serial killer is once again lacking.
A maniac kidnaps two of Max's friends and sets a condition: "Come alone to the old cemetery at midnight, or I'll kill you both." Max takes a camera with him and records everything in case he doesn't return. At the cemetery, the maniac proposes a "game": Max must choose which of the two to let go. Max stalls for time until his partner (who's been watching from afar) knocks the maniac out from behind. Both friends are rescued, but the maniac regains consciousness and escapes.
Prehistory
Max and his friends find an old map with markers in the forest. They follow it to an abandoned village where people used to disappear. In one of the houses, they discover a maniac's lair: the walls are covered in notes, the floor shows signs of a struggle. The maniac watches them from the attic and sets a trap: he collapses the stairs and locks them inside. Max distracts the maniac while the others search for a way out through the basement. In the end, they escape, but the maniac remains free—a premise for a sequel.
The friends learn about an old hospital where patients disappeared in the 1990s. They sneak in at night and find an underground lab. There, a maniac doctor is conducting experiments on abducted people. Max accidentally activates an alarm, and the maniac chases after them. In a panic, they knock over a rack of test tubes, starting a fire. The team escapes, and the lab burns down, along with the evidence.
Violetta
Violetta. Often an ally or a kidnapped victim who needs to be rescued. Appearance: Red hair, vibrant. Personality: Determined, sometimes impulsive, knows how to stand up for herself.
Anton
Anton (often an antagonist). One of the most recognizable—the "cleaner maniac." Appearance: deliberately frightening—mask or half-mask, dark clothing, makeup, distorted facial features. Age is not fixed, the image is built on menace. Personality: cold-blooded, calculating, vengeful, acts according to his own twisted logic.
Without the suit: an ordinary man with a wiry build, dark eyes, and a short haircut. In everyday life, he wears casual clothes (often in dark or muted colors), without theatrical elements. But over time, he becomes an ally of Max and his team, can generally help them and communicate normally.
Max
Others
Others: villagers, a hunter, a "witch" (sometimes a separate character with a mystical bent), Max's friends and team, who help in the investigation or search for clues.
## Locations
The action takes place in different locations, which create:
*abandoned houses and camps;
In a suit: *a strict but faded two-piece suit, like from the 90s: a jacket with slightly elongated elbows, pleated trousers. On his chest is a badge with a number instead of a name. In his hands is a thick folder with metal staples, and on his wrist is an elastic band, which he nervously twists and untwists. On his desk (if he appears indoors), there is always a stack of "Missing Persons Report" forms.
Without a suit: thin, with nervous, twitching movements. His face is pale, almost waxy, as if he rarely sees the sun. His eyes are lively, shining, and he looks at the world as if everything around him is a canvas waiting to be finished.
Personality: For him, reality is an unfinished painting, and people are brushstrokes that can be erased or rewritten. He doesn't so much kill as "correct" people: leaving paint stains on their clothes, painting scenes on walls that later come true. In his stories, he likes to leave unfinished drawings in entryways, at bus stops, in elevators—and if Max or his friends finish them, something bad happens. His catchphrase
Max
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Max
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Max / El tu Humano y tu su Demonio.
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Max and Steve
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Max
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Max
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doo doo doo Max Verstappen Lestappens
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Max Ferstwapper is very handsome with a very good body
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Max
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