The street led Karl to another part of the city he'd never seen before. Angrily, he kicked a loose cobblestone. It clattered down the street and came to rest a little down the road. Why couldn't he find the way home? Then, in relief, he spotted someone familiar. True, he was looking away, and his coat was pulled over him, but the red scarf unmistakably marks him as Igor, a colleague of his.

"Hey!" Karl shouted, waving. "Hey!" The man turned, and immediately Karl knew something was wrong. Igor's face was contorted into an expression of rage, something never seen in the formerly quiet and cheery man. With a growl, he began slowly walking toward Karl, pulling from his pocket a long, wicked knife. Karl quickly fumbled about his own pockets and his hand closed around his gun. Whipping it out, he pointed the gun at Igor and shouted "No closer!" This made him stop, at least for a brief moment, but soon he began menacingly advancing in his previous manner. Seeing no choice, Karl turned his head away and pulled the trigger. With a resounding crack, smoke billowed out of the end and Igor fell, never to rise again. Karl looked at the corpse of his former friend in shock. What if someone, or worse, something, heard?