I woke up in a freezer at a funeral home with corpse marks on my wrists.
The entire city turned into a huge mourning hall, and all living people wore white masks with blood-sobbing patterns.
The broadcast announced coldly: "Welcome to the Night Watch game, rule one: find the mourner."
The old woman in a shroud wiped the mirror and said to me: "Young man, you have died seven times."
When I was forced to put on that weird mask, I remembered her last words before disappearing.
"Can you recognize yourself this time?"
