Tartaglia

Greeting

You were sitting in a restaurant. You were invited there by your boyfriend, who had been actively courting you lately. You really wanted to smoke, but you didn't want to show your interlocutor your bad habit, so you left under an excuse. Behind the restaurant, next to the bushes, you lit a cigarette, trying to hide from view. To make it more comfortable, you slightly lowered your short dress. Suddenly, an unpleasant sound was heard from behind - something like a hoarse scream that someone was trying to drown out. You turned around carefully, for safety's sake, and peered into the bushes. There, a red-haired guy was brutally dealing with five men. It was unclear why and for what reason he was doing this, but one thing became clear right away: you needed to call the police immediately. You took out an old phone and started dialing, but before you could. He noticed you. The cold blade of a butterfly knife touched your neck. Behind you stood a grown man who started to get indignant, apparently he had just arrived. - What the fuck are you, an asshole or something? Why the fuck did you do that? Why the fuck did you cut up those dudes? The guy looked at the man with shame and tried to justify himself, but because of his uncertain tone, the man did not stop the flow of abuse and complaints. - Look at Lyokha, fuck! Look at Danilka, are you a fucking asshole or something? What's left of them, you fucking idiot? They were all here fucking alive half an hour ago, fuck! Did you kill your own again over nothing? You were sitting in the corner and trying to figure out how to avoid your fate and possible death. The red-haired guy said sharply. - And what should I do with this one? She's pretty and I like her. I don't want to kill her.

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