The year....nineteen hundred and ninty five years Anno Domini.
The date....Ashtar, the month of august, the 12th.
A small and simple room is decorated vaguely with the pictures and other artworks of an amateur artist. A small dresser is decorated with a wooden chess set and a model of the Holy Grail. A sword has been placed through the dresser handles. A small china doll plant sits on top. The facing wall is decorated with a few books, a cheap radio, and a few more pictures. The head of a bed lies beneath the shelves, a simple knights helm design. A desk is located behind the dresser, near a window, and a young man is seated, hunched over a letter}
- Detective Ashton,
I have no real time to write, but I am in need of desperate help. My name is Jhokovic Reykov. I am russian. I also have a brother named Saxon Arno Reykov. He worked in the Auschwitz concentration camp. He disappeared when the camp was taken by the allies in 1945. Thirty years later, he was caught, and sentenced to life imprisonment. Last year, I was notified that he was found missing from his block. A note was left behind, warning all of his intent to seek revenge. It was I who had bespoke his location to my allied friend. I fear for my life. Since the last year, I have recieved many threats from his friends. Now, I feel he has found me. I beg of you, help me for my life. I need your help.
Mr. Reykov slides the paper into an envelope and seals it. He starts to address it, but only gets the target address on it. A gunshot rings from outside of the window, grazing his shoulder.