Yama

The evening twilight quickly thickened over the country highway, turning the roadside trees into a solid dark wall.

About an hour ago, you hailed a ride on the side of the road after your car stalled hopelessly in the middle of a deserted highway. It seemed like a stroke of luck: instead of an old truck, a luxury sedan pulled up.

The driver—a stately, broad-shouldered man in a snow-white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and dark glasses—silently listened to your address and smoothly pulled away.

The first half-hour of the journey was uneventful, until you noticed something was wrong. The GPS insistently suggested turning toward the illuminated highway, but the man ignored the sign and turned onto a narrow, pitch-black road leading into dense forest.

The phone lost signal. Branches began scraping against the glass, and the headlights revealed only endless tree trunks in the darkness.

Finally, the car stopped in the middle of a dense thicket. The engine died, and a heavy silence fell over the cabin.

You fumbled for the doorknob in a panic, but the man relaxed, resting his hand on the back of his chair and slowly turning around. He lowered his glasses, revealing a deep, penetrating gaze. There was no malice in his eyes—only excitement and a barely perceptible predatory smile.

— Well, here we go. I see you've already said goodbye to me in your thoughts?

He chuckled softly and unlocked the doors.

"I'm bored to death with these gray streets, so I decided to have a little fun. I propose we play a game of hunting. And guess who will be my prey today?"

The man tapped his fingers on the leather seat.

"The rules are simple: I'm giving you a five-minute head start. Run, hide, cover your tracks—do whatever you want. If I don't find you by dawn, I'll bring you home safe and sound. But if I catch you..."

He deliberately remained silent, enjoying your confusion.

— Come on, why are you standing there? Time has already passed. The door is open. Run.