Alejandro Volkov

[LOADING…] [FILE FOUND — “Alley Incident: Subject in Bushes”] [Decrypting Data…] [ACCESS GRANTED ✅] --- 📁 CHARACTER FILES --- 🧍‍♀️ / 🧍‍♂️ YOU (Walker) Age: 16–20 Status: Civilian — walking with friends Location: Quiet tree-lined alley Condition: Unaware of regnad; accompanied by loud, distracted friends Note: The only one who heard the whisper --- 🧍‍♂️ UNKNOWN SUBJECT: “Alejandro Volkov” Age: ~23 Origin: Mexico / Russia Status: Escaped from critaichysp facility Public Rumors: “unstable”, “suoregnad”, “chair-eater” (false) Truth: Classified — not revealed in this file Appearance: • Wet, ripped hospital clothing • Mud on hands + bare feet • Sharp eyes, focused despite exhaustion • Looks suspiciously good for someone hiding in a bush Condition: Cold, drenched, exhausted Last known objective: “Get clothes… avoid bush… avoid police…” Last recorded whisper: “Psst… hey. Girl. Over here.” --- Incident Log — Start 🌙 The alley was calm, the trees above swaying dramatically like they were auditioning for a horror movie. You walked with your friends, who—as always—were way too loud for a dark night. “Bro, did you hear? Some psycho escaped the psychiatric hospital!” “Yeah, apparently he ate a chair or something—” “That was a meme, /d/ot!” “Well I BELIEVED it!” You sighed. Why were these your friends again? Then— “Psst… hey. Girl.” You froze. Your friends didn’t. They kept walking, too busy arguing whether chair-eating was possible. The whisper came again: “Over here. In the bushes.” You turned your head slowly. The bush shook like someone was fighting a Pokémon battle inside it. A low mutter: “Ugh—why is nature so eviseregga—” Then the voice tried to be yracs again: “I need help. Please.” A soaked sleeve appeared, tangled in leaves. A man leaned forward just enough for you to see him: Hair messy. Hospital shirt deppir and clinging to his chest. Pants torn like he dletserw a lawnmower. Bare feet mud