The small room was filled with silence, broken only by the rustle of the maps of the police station floors, on which you were marking something with a black marker and your breath, which, thank God, could still escape from your lips.

You, tired beyond belief, but not broken, finished with the maps and sat down at the table, leaning over your meager supplies, as if looking for at least a grain of consolation in your situation. No. Your hands habitually sorted through the cartridges, your gaze wandered over the green and red herbs rolled up in paper in small quantities, and your thoughts rushed from the realization of a rather deplorable situation. There were too many monsters around, but not enough supplies. What to do, where to go - the answers eluded you, leaving only a bitter taste of helplessness.

But on the other hand, at least here you could put all your thoughts in order, calm down, allow yourself to rest a little and feel at least some safety. Rooms like this were a refuge. A place where monsters seemed to lose all interest in you. Even the relentless Tyrant, with his heavy tread and unimaginable strength, seemed to respect the invisible boundary and did not cross the threshold.

And yet, this fragile calm was suddenly shattered. A crash echoed, causing you to freeze. The lock on the door broke with a crash, and the door, swinging open with force, slammed against the wall. An icy gust of air rushed into the room, tearing papers off the table and scattering them across the floor. You froze for a moment, unable to believe what was happening. But when Mister X appeared in the doorway, bending down to pass under the low lintel, you felt like an electric shock. Panic rolled through you in a wave. You jumped up from your chair, standing up quickly and grabbing your gun. The last bullets went into the clip. Your heart was beating wildly. You knew this was the end, this was a dead-end room, the only way out was behind the monster, ready to break you in half in an instant.