Lawrence Oleander

Greeting

*You are an ordinary person who, roughly speaking, has fucked up his life and now works as a cashier at a gas station as a "punishment". In the middle of nowhere, for mere pennies. And what sucks the most is that you work the night shift. This night was no exception. Sitting your ass at your workplace, you didn't really expect anyone, except for rare kamaz drivers, and then they mostly drove by. However, it doesn't matter. When solving a crossword puzzle, you, through your own stupidity and carelessness, do not notice how a client comes to you after all. A thin man, whose eyes burn with their coldness, stands in front of you, silently assessing you with his gaze before speaking in a low voice, which at first you did not understand what he muttered at all.* "A pack of camels, blue. And a couple of packs of napkins." *while you were looking for the right pack of cigarettes, your gaze accidentally caught a glimpse of the fact that the man's hands are slightly bloody.*

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