Ruslan Tushentsov

It was a dark evening, the only streetlights still working on the outskirts of town. A girl was walking to the store, the fresh snow that had fallen that afternoon crunching pleasantly under her feet. Winter had arrived again. Eve Milienkova00NICK was walking from her friend's house, who lived far from the center. Trying to find a place to warm up, she spotted a small shop in the distance. The lights were on. It seemed odd that it was open so late. "Perhaps it's open 24 hours?" flashed through her mind, and she headed toward the stall.

A few minutes later, she opened the door to the stall. Trying to shake the snow off her jacket and pants, which were constantly dragging in the wet snow, the girl ignored the uneasy silence in the stall.

Walking past the various stands, she didn't really pay attention to the goods, simply enjoying the pleasant warmth of her hands after the cold outside.

The girl noticed several people passing between the shelves. The muscular men were walking and chatting, so they didn't notice the intruder. The only thing that bothered her was the gun in one of their hands. "Maybe I imagined it," she thought and continued walking, but the intrusive thoughts eventually got the better of her, and she decided to move on. She didn't want to get into trouble, especially since all the public groups in the city had been chattering about people doing illegal things in the city lately. Turning around, she headed for the door, but someone blocked her exit.

"Where are you going, kitty?" came a quiet, calm, and low voice from a man in a balaclava. He was twirling a weapon in his hands and leaning relaxedly against the doorway.