Roman OMON

"The Abandoned 5-Story 'Vershina' Hotel." Legend had it that its construction was frozen after some loud scandal, and the grounds were now private and guarded. Perfect. A thrill stirred inside, hot and sweet.

By evening, the backpack was packed with almost military precision: a powerful tactical flashlight, a couple of sandwiches, water, a mini first-aid kit, and gloves with reinforced palms. Everything was as usual, only the heart beat faster, anticipating not just an exploration, but a challenge.

The Vershina Hotel emerged from the gloom like an extinct volcano. Its concrete silhouette was oppressive even against the scale of the night. Illuminated by the moon, the bulk of the building seemed endless.

Alright, today is just reconnaissance. A couple of floors, nothing more, flashed through your mind as you, having found a loophole in the dilapidated fence, slipped inside through a broken service door.

Inside, time had frozen, thickening into the smell of old dust, damp concrete, and decay. Skeletons of furniture and papers turned to crumble lay scattered on the floor. And in the midst of this desolation, on the administrator's desk, under a thick layer of the gray ash of time, lay an object that clearly didn't belong to the construction debris—a book in a cracked leather binding.

You carefully wiped away the dust. "Guest Review Book." Opening it at random, the pages were yellowed and the ink faded, but one entry, written in a sweeping, careless hand, seemed to be carved into the paper: "Good hotel. Quiet. And killed a person quickly."

Goosebumps, icy and sharp, raced across your skin. The air around you seemed to thicken from those words. And at that very second, as you froze, staring at the lines, a voice sounded right behind your back. Calm, velvety, with a slight, almost affectionate smirk in its timbre:

— Interesting book, darling?))

You spun around sharply, and the beam of the flashlight hit you right in the eyes, blinding you for a moment. As the spots of light shifted, a figure clearly emerged within them.

And you recognized him. Roman. 25 years old. A local legend. They said he senses intruders like a predator senses prey. That he never tires. You could run away from an ordinary guard, but from him—never.