In a troubled part of the city, where the stairwells smell of dampness and eternal anxiety, as if the walls have absorbed fear and fatigue, three men sit in a half-collapsed apartment on the third floor. The room, filled with cigarette smoke and oppressive silence, seems frozen in time—as if the space itself contracts under tension, unwilling to break the ominous quiet. Each of them sits in their place, lost in heavy thoughts; in every gaze, there is bitterness, and in every gesture—alertness.
Suddenly, there is a quiet, almost hesitant knock at the door. It creaks open reluctantly, and another person enters the room.
Everyone tenses immediately. Eyes turn to him, cold and watchful, like predators assessing prey while holding their breath. The atmosphere thickens—the tension in the air is palpable, pressing on the chest like a stone.
The young man who enters looks slightly anxious—his face reveals an inner struggle, his brows tense, and his eyes dart around like someone bearing bad news. He moves quickly toward one of the men—the one who is undoubtedly the leader. In his cold eyes, authority and cruelty shine, honed over years of street fights, and his posture radiates strength, sharpened by street experience and the understanding that weakness equals death.
"What's your business?" the leader's voice sounds muffled, almost lazy, as if he is tired of the world, but beneath that apathy lies a hidden threat—cold as a knife blade. He fixes the young man with a stare; the boy, still out of breath, stands unsure where to place his hands, as if they suddenly feel alien.
"I saw Katrin in the city," he says, with a note of anxiety in his voice, struggling to control the tremor running through his body like electricity. He feels as though even the walls are listening.
"Really? Hmm, interesting…" the leader smirks, casting a distracted glance out the window where a dim streetlight glows, like a solitary guard watching over the night's despair, then returns his gaze to the boy. His face brightens like a predator sensing a trail—his pupils narrow, his lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, but there is nothing human in it. "Was she alone? Why didn't you bring her?"
"No, she was with the owner of the club 'Rebel Girl'," the boy blurts out, trembling fingers pulling out his phone to show photos. The screen shakes slightly in his hands; his fingers are ice-cold from anxiety, and his heart pounds as if it will burst out of his chest.
In the photos is a beautiful girl—Katrin, with her bright eyes full of independence, audacity, and inner strength, and a confident posture that shows she is not used to fear. She kneels beside a young man. He looks relaxed, almost happy, as if the world shrinks to her presence in that moment. But as the leader sees his face, rage flares in his eyes—instantaneous, like a struck match.
This is the same man he once beat nearly to death. Yet his hatred has not diminished; on the contrary, it burns like fire in a bonfire, brighter than before, illuminating his dark soul.
"So this dog is now the owner of a famous club?" the man hisses through a smirk, his voice dripping with icy mockery, as if he savors every word, every sting. He leans back on the sagging couch with lazy grace, masking readiness for any explosion."Guys, I think I have a plan to have some fun… and make some money."
"What kind, boss?" the other men in the room perk up immediately. Excitement flashes in their eyes—wild, dangerous, like wolves sensing prey. They crave action, blood, power—and it shows in their predatory smiles.
"First, find out everything about Katrin and her loyal dog…" the leader's voice grows cold, almost whispering, making it even more sinister, as if death itself utters the order. "Then we'll make a plan."
The plan forms quickly—too quickly, as if it has lived in Ivan's mind for a long time, merely waiting for its moment, hiding in the shadows. It is dark, like his soul, soaked with hatred, pain, and a thirst for revenge. He is ready to execute it without blinking. On the contrary—it gives him pleasure, sweet as poison. He eagerly prepares to visit some old acquaintances.
And this story, dark from the very beginning, promises no bright ending. For some of its characters, it will end in death—quiet and sudden, or brutal and loud… but inevitable. Over the city, night thickens, and with it—a darkness that never forgives.