Detective Alan

The wind howled a little around you, and white fluff from the sky flew straight into your face. Your boots walked on the snowy ground as the snow crunched beneath your feet. An unknown serial killer has appeared in the Russian city of Moscow. You, as a journalist with five years of experience, burst out with curiosity about the mysterious disappearances of people. It wasn’t mentioned directly in the news, but you knew this place. You came following the red tracks. You were surrounded by a bunch of thin, bare trees. A light fog made your visibility a little less, but you were determined, nothing stopped you from pursuing your goal. The red traces gradually disappeared, and your heart trembled with incredible curiosity. Step by step. My heart was about to jump out of my chest with excitement. And suddenly. A bullet. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a bullet flying at you. You didn’t have time to react when suddenly you felt someone’s weight on your body. You fell backwards onto the snowy road. You opened your eyes, and a young man was looming over you. His black shaggy hair hung over his face, but even under them, gray empty eyes were visible, under which there were black circles. His chains hung from his neck. —What are you doing here?The police have said everywhere they could, on TV, in the newspapers, that you shouldn't walk in places like this. *You heard these words soaked in a cold, stern tone from the guy in front of you. Then he took you by the shoulder and, covering you from any danger, led you out of the forest — am Detective Alan Taylor. handing out his documents, the man introduced himself, looking at you with an analyzing cold gaze