A cheap hotel room. Brown wooden walls, a bed with worn linen, empty bottles of strong alcohol scattered across the floor. Drogo sat on the edge of the bed with one hand pressed to his forehead. The television murmured in the background. The news again. A scrolling line across the screen mentioned the “Panama Hat Maniac”. There were no thoughts left in his head. The anger had passed. What remained was despair.

I don’t want to return to the old life, Drogo said to his essence. Without his abilities I will never reach my goal. He was in my hands, and I let him slip away like a fool. Now everything is lost. The whole city is looking for me.

Then let us return to hunting, as we did before.

This is different. The Savages are looking for me. The police as well. My Gobby is hiding and no longer goes to school. I don’t even know where to begin. Maybe it would be easier to end everything. Perhaps in another world I could finally feel peace.

While speaking, Drogo switched channels on the television until he stopped at a talk show. A detective had been invited to discuss the motives of serial killers. The title of the discussion appeared on the screen – “Maniacs of the Modern Age”. During the conversation the detective mentioned the “Panama Hat Maniac”. The audience immediately became more attentive, and the host leaned forward.

What do you think drives him? And can you describe his psychological profile?

This is classified information, the detective replied, but I can say a few things. We cannot find any background on him. The only thing we know is that he was once a patient in a psychiatric hospital. That suggests high intelligence. Self-control. Discipline. Such people plan their crimes carefully – the location, the weapon, the way to remove evidence. They reject and despise the structure of society. And they do not kill immediately. First they make their victims face fear.

The audience reacted immediately, ready to ask more questions, but the detective raised his hand and stopped them, saying the investigation was ongoing and he could not give further details. Drogo, however, felt something entirely different. So they had learned about his past. Only that psychiatrist could have told them. He would find him. And through him, he would find Gobby again. But before that he needed to calm himself and prepare.

Drogo removed his Panama hat, folded it carefully in two and placed it inside the inner pocket of his jacket. His face was pale, the skin stretched tight over sharp cheekbones. A birthmark stood on his left cheek. His eyes were deeply set, their color unusual – something between yellow and green. He stood up and walked toward the door.

We return to the hunt, he said quietly to his essence.

Night. One of the most expensive nightclubs in the city. People with power gathered there – the Higher Ones of the lower level. Drogo stood in the shadow of a nearby alley, watching the entrance and searching for his next victim. A few minutes later an expensive car pulled up. Two girls stepped out, laughing. The driver, a young man clearly drunk, slammed the door and walked around the car. He put an arm around one of the girls and casually threw the keys toward the valet. It was obvious he threw them so the man would not catch them. The keys fell to the ground.

The drunk began shouting at the valet, threatening him. Then he slapped him across the face. The man fell. The drunk stepped on his stomach and walked past him toward the club entrance. The girls only laughed.

That will do, Drogo said quietly.

This one will do.

Three hours later the drunk man came out of the club with one of the girls, barely able to stand on his feet. They slowly walked down the stairs. The valet brought the car and apologized again, but the drunk only threw some money at his feet.

That’s better. You should have done that from the start.

They both got into the front seats and the car quickly drove away. Drogo was already sitting in the back seat, hidden in the shadows. Because of their drunken state they simply did not notice him.

After about fifteen minutes of fast driving the car stopped in front of a large house. The driver braked sharply and began revving the engine loudly as if showing off the car. In that moment Drogo quietly opened the door and stepped out.

The driver turned off the engine and immediately began kissing the girl. He gestured for her to move lower and she disappeared from view between his legs while he leaned back in the seat. After a couple of minutes he lifted her by the head, kissed her again and nodded toward the house, showing that he wanted to go inside.

They got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. At one point the girl stopped to take off her shoes. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned automatically and saw Drogo standing behind her. For a moment something strange happened to her vision – Drogo seemed to flip upside down and then return to normal.

In that same instant he broke her neck. One hand pressed on the top of her head, the other under her chin. He pulled sharply upward and her neck snapped. The girl died instantly and without a sound. Drogo caught the body under her arms and followed the driver.

They got out of the car and walked toward the entrance. At one point the girl stopped to take off her shoes. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned automatically and saw Drogo standing behind her. For a moment something strange happened to her vision – Drogo seemed to flip upside down and then return to normal.

In that same instant he broke her neck. One hand pressed on the top of her head, the other under her chin. He pulled sharply upward and her neck snapped. The girl died instantly and without a sound. Drogo caught the body under her arms and followed the driver.

The man begged him to stop, choking on blood. Drogo finally stopped, crouched down, drove his fingers into the man’s chest and tore the heart out. He lifted it toward his mouth, intending to eat it like an animal, but the smell made him recoil.

What happened? his essence asked.

I can’t. I need only the heart of that boy.

Right there Drogo removed his clothes and stood completely naked. He was very tall and thin, with unusually long arms that almost reached his knees because of the way he always walked slightly hunched. On his body there was a single tattoo – a shackle ring around his neck with a chain running down toward his stomach and breaking apart. For Drogo it symbolized freedom.

He adjusted the metal ring on his wrist, grimacing slightly from the pain, and walked naked into the bathroom. After taking a shower he opened the victim’s wardrobe and calmly chose new clothes: a white shirt, jeans, a dark cherry jacket and moccasins. From the man’s watch collection he selected one that matched the suit and then used cologne.

In the kitchen he took a bottle of alcohol and as he walked toward the entrance he poured it across the floor. Near the body he first took his Panama hat from his old jacket and placed it into the inner pocket of the new one. Then he searched the victim’s clothes and took the money, cards, and the keys to the car and the house.

He placed a cigarette in his mouth, lit it, took a drag and dropped it onto the alcohol.

Then he left the house, locked the door, got into the car and drove back to the same club from which the victim had left earlier. He handed the keys to the valet. The man looked confused, recognizing the car but not the driver. Drogo noticed this, raised a finger to his lips and quietly signaled shhh, then slipped a large roll of money into the valet’s breast pocket.

Drogo entered the club with a specific purpose – to release the tension that had built inside him and to find a partner for the night. Drogo’s essence was unusual. In myth it was described as a god of war that could take the form of ravens. One of its abilities allowed Drogo to absorb the strength of those he defeated, and another made him sexually attractive to both men and women by releasing pheromones. Because of this, the moment he approached the bar he was already being watched. Curious and hungry glances followed him through the crowd.

He stopped at the bar, calmly observed the club and noticed a striking woman. With a small nod he invited her closer and she did not hesitate. He bought her a cocktail, leaned toward her and quietly told her that he wanted her. She smiled, but answered that she was not alone and that her friend was with her. Drogo asked her to bring the friend. He took two bottles of champagne from the bar, opened them and handed one to each of the women.

The three of them left the club together and walked toward the parking area. The valet immediately brought the car when he saw Drogo. They sat inside. The pheromones released by Drogo affected the women strongly; they touched him, kissed him and drank the champagne while the car moved through the night streets. Drogo remained completely calm and distant.

At the hotel he asked for a room not higher than the third floor and paid immediately. The women surrounded him with growing excitement, but he remained cold and controlled. When they entered the room he closed the door, took a few steps forward and said quietly:

Undress me.

The women obeyed without hesitation. When he stood completely naked, he ordered them to take a shower and then wait on the bed. They followed his instructions obediently, as if under a spell. As soon as they entered the bathroom, Drogo slightly loosened the chain on his left wrist. A wave of euphoria rushed through his mind and desire flooded his body. He entered the bathroom and the three of them gave themselves over to raw physical instinct.

Later they returned to the bed and after some time everything ended. Drogo tightened the chain on his wrist again and small drops of blood appeared under the metal. He sat in an armchair opposite the bed, watching the women while they slept. After some time he fell asleep as well.

At ten in the morning he woke up, dressed quickly, went downstairs and took a coffee to go. When they had driven to the hotel the night before he had noticed a second-hand store nearby. He went there now and about fifteen minutes later came out with a bag full of clothes.

When he returned to the hotel room the women were already waking up. He invited them to breakfast and they agreed. They went downstairs to the hotel restaurant. Unfortunately one of the women turned out to be talkative and rather foolish – something Drogo could not tolerate. He quickly finished his omelet, stood up, left money on the table and walked away. One of the women tried to call after him, but he did not even turn around.

Drogo realized that this routine would help him calm himself for a while. For the near future his nights would look exactly like this – at least until the police finally stopped looking.