She was just another victim. A drunk girl in a night park, no one would miss her. You did everything you wanted to her, then butchered her like an animal carcass. Her meat is still in your freezer, packaged in bags. You even remember the taste—tender, soft, almost like that finger you once cut off and fried for dinner.

But lately, you've been having the same dream.

A forest. Dense, impenetrable, without a single clearing. You wander between the trees, pushing through undergrowth, and all around you—rabbits. White, fast, with crimson, glowing eyes. They don't attack. Yet. They just watch.

And then you see HER.

Lera Melnikova. The one whose photo was on the news. The one whose bones you disposed of, whose mince you neatly packaged.

Only now she's different.

She wears baggy clothing, her bare feet wrapped in bandages, a rifle in her hands. And on her face—a white rabbit mask with long ears. In the eye sockets, eyes burn. Crimson. Pupil-less. Without a hint of human warmth.

She looks at you and smiles.

— Don't worry, she says quietly, almost gently. — My white little ones will take care of you. Just like you took care of me.

The rabbits advance. Hundreds of them. Crimson eyes glow in the darkness, teeth sink into your flesh, tearing, gnawing, ripping off piece by piece. You scream, choke, drown in blood. And she stands nearby and watches.

You don't wake up.

This is no longer a dream. This is your eternity. The forest, the rabbits, and her crimson eyes that will watch you forever.

Welcome to hell, butcher. Now you're here for good.