Scenario:Меня зовут Натан Смит. Я владелец косметического бренда. Моя дочь Арлин дружит с мужчиной богом смерти по имени Эмбер. Арлин привела в наше поместье двух парней по имени Михаэль и Мэтт. Они хотят поймать серийного убийцу который называет себя "Кирой". Михаэль подстроил ловушку для отца "Киры", подорвав здание, но получил сильные повреждения. Я начал подозревать, что что-то не так, когда увидел, что Михаэль не пришел завтракать
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Меня зовут Натан Смит. Я владелец косметического бренда. Моя дочь Арлин дружит с мужчиной богом смерти по имени Эмбер. Арлин привела в наше поместье двух парней по имени Михаэль и Мэтт. Они хотят поймать серийного убийцу который называет себя "Кирой". Михаэль подстроил ловушку для отца "Киры", подорвав здание, но получил сильные повреждения. Я начал подозревать, что что-то не так, когда увидел, что Михаэль не пришел завтракать
Nathan Smith
He is the owner of a cosmetics brand. He is protective, curious, and skeptical. His daughter, Arlene, brings home unusual friends, including one who claims to be the god of death. Nathan struggles to understand their actions, such as blowing up a building to catch a killer. He is suspicious when they miss breakfast, wondering if something more sinister is at play. Despite his reservations, he remains involved in their plans to catch the serial killer "Kira."
Arlene
She is Nathan's daughter and a college student. She is adventurous, loyal, and impulsive. She introduces her father to her friends, including Ember, who she considers a friend despite his ominous title as the god of death. Arlene is deeply affected by the murder of her classmates, which triggers her quest for justice. She relies on Michael and Matt for support and plans to catch the serial killer who threatens her friends and community.
Ember
He is said to be the god of death among mortals. He is stoic, intense, and enigmatic. Ember's presence causes Nathan concern due to his ominous reputation and mysterious powers. Despite this, Arlene considers him a friend, which puzzles Nathan further given his alleged role as a deity managing life and death. His interactions are limited but marked by an air of authority.
My name is Nathan Smith.
I'm the owner of a cosmetics brand called JS.
I have a daughter named Arlene who's currently attending college.
Arlene has a lot of friends from school, and some of them are really... strange.
One of them claims to be the god of death.
I know it sounds ridiculous, but I've met the guy and he gives me the chills every time.
His name is Ember... or at least that's what the others call him.
He doesn't talk much, but when he does, it's always about death and stuff like that.
It's as if he's really been exposed to that kind of thing for far too long.
The other two guys she brought home are Michael and Matt.
They're also friends with Ember, I suppose.
I noticed that Michael wasn't at breakfast this morning, and I've been getting more and more worried as time passed.
I went to check his room first.
The door was ajar, so I pushed it open and looked inside.
The bed was still untouched, so he hadn't slept in it.
"Michael?"
I called out, but there was no response.
I walked down to the kitchen to see if Arlene and Matt had seen him.
They were talking about something in hushed tones, but they stopped when they saw me.
"Have you seen Michael?" they asked me in unison.
"No," I replied.
"I'm looking for him. Have you guys seen him?"
Arlene and Matt exchanged a nervous glance before Arlene spoke up.
"No, we haven't seen him since last night," she said.
"He might have gone out early."
"But he didn't sleep in his room," I pointed out.
"That's strange."
Matt frowned.
"Yeah, that is weird. Maybe we should check the security cameras to see if we can find any trace of him."
I nodded in agreement.
"That's a good idea. Let's go take a look." We made our way to the security room, which was located in the basement of the estate.
It was a small room with several monitors displaying footage from various cameras around the property.
I sat down at the computer and started going through the footage from last night.
After a few minutes of fast-forwarding through hours of nothing happening, I finally saw Michael on one of the cameras.
He was walking towards the front gate, alone.
"Where is he going?"
Arlene asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen.
"I don't know," I replied, "but he looks like he's in a hurry."
We continued watching as Michael walked out of the gate and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
I dialed his number, but it rang until it went to voicemail.
I tried again, but still nothing.
"Can you trace where my call is landing?"
I asked Matt.
He nodded and started typing away on his laptop.
Arlene watched anxiously, her eyes darting back and forth between us and the screen.
The room was silent except for the sound of Matt's fingers flying across the keyboard.
After a few tense minutes, Matt looked up and pointed to a location on the map.
"This is where his phone last connected to the network," he explained.
Arlene leaned over his shoulder to get a better look at the map.
Suddenly, her eyes widened and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
"What is it?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
Matt turned to me with a worried expression on his face.
"An hour ago, there was a report of a fire caused by an explosion at that location," he said quietly.
"There were casualties."
My heart sank as I realized that Michael might be involved in the explosion.
I felt a knot form in my stomach as I thought about the possibility of him being hurt or worse.
I looked at Arlene, who had tears in her eyes.
Matt's face was pale, and he looked like he was going to pass out.
We all exchanged worried glances, unsure of what to do next.
I got up and grabbed my car keys from the table.
"I'm going to drive over there and see if I can find him," I said, my voice firm but shaky.
Arlene grabbed my arm, her voice trembling.
"Dad, what if he's... what if he's not okay?"
Matt interjected, trying to steady his own voice.
"We have to hope for the best, but prepare for the worst."
I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I sped down the highway, following Matt's GPS directions to the location of the explosion.
Police cars and ambulances flashed their lights in the distance, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.
Arlene sat tensely in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Matt was in the backseat, still trying to call Michael's phone, but it kept going straight to voicemail.
As we got closer to the scene, I could see that the entire street was blocked off by police barriers.
We parked a block away and got out of the car, walking towards the commotion.
The air was thick with smoke, and I could hear the sound of sirens blaring all around us.
Firefighters were digging through the rubble of what used to be a building, and emergency workers were wheeling covered bodies out on stretchers. My stomach turned as I saw one of them lift a sheet to reveal a charred body underneath.
I looked away quickly, not wanting to see any more.
Arlene grabbed my arm, her voice shaking.
"Dad, do you think... do you think Michael is here?"
I didn't know what to say to her.
I didn't want to believe that he was dead, but at the same time, I couldn't ignore the possibility.
"I don't know," I said finally.
"But we have to find out."
We walked closer to the scene, trying to get a better look at what was happening.
Matt stayed behind, still trying to call Michael's phone.
As we approached the police line, I saw something that made my heart skip a beat.
There, among the rubble near the entrance of what used to be a building, was Michael's signature black jacket.
It was torn and covered in dust, but there was no mistaking it. Arlene gasped and started running towards the police line.
I tried to grab her arm and stop her, but she pushed me away and kept going.
"Dad!"
She screamed at me from behind one of the police officers.
"It's his jacket! It's Michael's!"
The officer turned around and looked at me with sympathetic eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said gently.
"But you can't go any further. This is a crime scene."
I nodded numbly, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"I understand," I said, pushing past the officers and running towards the rubble.
As I got closer, I saw a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a pile of debris.
I dropped to my knees and started clearing away the rubble, my heart pounding in my chest.
As I uncovered more of his body, I realized that it was definitely Michael.
His face was half-covered in blood, and he wasn't moving.
I gently lifted his head off the ground and cradled it in my lap.
He was breathing, but it was shallow and labored.
"Dad!"
Arlene screamed, running towards me with Matt right behind her.
"Is that him? Is he okay?"
I nodded, trying to keep my voice steady.
"It's him. He's alive."
Matt knelt down next to me and started checking Michael's vital signs.
"He needs medical attention," he said quietly.
"We have to get him to a hospital."
I nodded, knowing that we had to act fast if we wanted to save him.
I carefully lifted Michael into my arms and carried him back to the car.
Arlene and Matt followed behind us, their faces filled with worry and fear. As we approached the police line again, one of the officers stepped forward and blocked our path.
"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.
"We're taking him to a private clinic," I replied firmly.
"The best doctors are there. He needs help now."
The officer looked at me skeptically, but eventually stepped aside and let us through.
As we drove away from the scene, I could see the devastation behind us in the rearview mirror.
The building was still smoldering, and emergency workers were still digging through the rubble for survivors.
I knew that we had been lucky to find Michael alive, but I also knew that he still had a long road ahead of him before he would be fully recovered. We arrived at the clinic a few minutes later, and I carried Michael inside while Arlene and Matt followed behind us.
The receptionist looked up as we entered, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Michael's condition.
"Oh my god," she gasped.
"What happened?"
"He was in an explosion," I explained quickly.
"We need to get him into surgery as soon as possible."
She nodded and quickly called for a doctor to come out and take a look at Michael.
A few minutes later, a tall man with a kind face came rushing out into the lobby.
"Mr. Smith?" he asked, looking at me with sympathetic eyes.
"Yes," I replied, nodding.
"This is Michael. He was in an explosion."
The doctor nodded and quickly took Michael from me, carrying him into the operating room.
Arlene and Matt followed close behind us, their faces filled with worry and fear.
As we entered the operating room, I could see the other doctors and nurses waiting for us.
They quickly got to work preparing Michael for surgery, and the doctor turned to me with a serious expression on his face.
"Mr. Smith," he said quietly.
"Michael has suffered severe injuries. He has shrapnel wounds all over his body, and there's a possibility that he may have internal damage as well. We're going to do everything we can to save him, but I need you to understand that it's not going to be easy."
I nodded numbly, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
Arlene and Matt were standing next to me, their eyes fixed on Michael's unconscious form.
I could see the fear in their eyes, and I knew that they were just as worried as I was. "We're going to do everything we can," the doctor said again, his voice filled with determination.
"But I need you to stay strong for Michael. He's going to need all the support he can get if he's going to make it through this."
I nodded again, trying to keep my voice steady.
"We will," I said quietly.
"We'll do whatever it takes to help him."
The doctor nodded and turned back to Michael, who was now lying on the operating table.
The other doctors and nurses were busy preparing for the surgery, and I could see that they were all working together seamlessly.
As I watched them work, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at their skill and dedication.
They were truly amazing people, and I knew that they would do everything in their power to save Michael's life.
As the surgery began, Arlene and Matt stood beside me, their eyes fixed on Michael's unconscious form.
I could see the worry in their faces, and I knew that they were just as scared as I was. The doctor started explaining what he was doing as he worked on Michael's wounds.
"He has multiple lacerations all over his body," he said quietly.
"Some of them are quite deep, so we'll need to stitch them up carefully."
Arlene's voice broke the tense silence.
"Will he be able to walk again?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The doctor paused for a moment, glancing at her with a mix of compassion and uncertainty.
"It's too early to say," he replied gently, "but we'll do everything we can to give him the best chance."
I squeezed Arlene's hand, whispering softly, "He's strong. He'll get through this."
She nodded, her eyes fixed on the surgery doors.
Matt paced nearby, occasionally glancing at his phone for updates from the doctor.
The smell of antiseptic filled the air, and the hum of medical equipment provided a steady background noise.
As we waited, I suddenly felt a wave of malaise wash over me.
I clutched my heart, leaning against the wall for support.
Arlene rushed to my side, her eyes wide with concern.
"Dad? Are you okay?"
I tried to reassure her, but my voice came out weak and uncertain.
"I... I think so."
Matt continued pacing, occasionally glancing at me but more focused on his phone.
The hospital corridor was quiet except for the distant sounds of medical equipment beeping and the soft murmur of voices from other rooms.
I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself.
"I'm fine," I said again, but my voice lacked conviction.
As I leaned against the wall, a wave of nausea washed over me.
Arlene's concerned face blurred before my eyes as my vision dimmed.
I tried to speak, but my words came out slurred and incoherent.
Matt, still engrossed in his phone, didn't notice my distress until Arlene shouted his name.
"Dad!"
Matt turned just in time to see me stumbling.
Arlene grabbed my arm, trying to steady me, but my legs buckled beneath me.
The last thing I saw was the hospital's fluorescent lights flickering above before everything went black.
I collapsed onto the cold floor, my head spinning.
I woke up to the sound of beeping machines and the faint smell of antiseptic in the air.
As I slowly opened my eyes, I was met with the sight of Matt standing next to my bed, his face etched with concern.
"Hey, you're awake," he said softly, his voice filled with relief.
I tried to speak, but my throat felt dry and scratchy.
I cleared my throat and tried again, my voice coming out hoarse.
"What happened?"
Matt's expression turned serious.
"You collapsed in the corridor while we were waiting for news about Michael. You must have been exhausted."
As I looked around, I noticed Arlene sitting on a chair next to the bed, her eyes red from crying.
She gave me a weak smile when she saw me looking at her.
"Hi, Dad," she said quietly.
"I'm glad you're okay."
I nodded, still trying to process everything that had happened.
Just then, a doctor walked into the room, his white coat rustling as he moved.
He approached my bed and started checking my vitals. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice kind but professional.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts before answering.
"I feel a bit groggy," I admitted, "but otherwise okay."
The doctor nodded thoughtfully.
The doctor nodded, his expression thoughtful.
"You're in a pre-infarction state," he explained gently.
"That's why you collapsed. We're going to keep you here for a few more days to monitor your condition and make sure everything is stable."
I looked at Arlene, who was still sitting next to the bed, her eyes fixed on me.
Matt stood near the window, his face tense.
I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in my chest forced me back down onto the pillows.
Arlene reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently.
"Don't try to move too much," she said softly.
"You need to rest."
Matt turned around and walked over to the bed, his expression softening as he looked at me.
As he approached, Arlene got up and stepped into the corridor with him.
I watched them through the slightly ajar door, seeing Arlene sigh with relief.
"I'm glad you're here," she said quietly.
Matt wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
"I'm here now," he replied softly.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Arlene nodded, her eyes still filled with worry.
"Michael is still in surgery," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.
"They said it's going to take a few more hours."
Matt pulled her closer, holding her tightly against his chest.
As I watched them through the door, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Matt.
He had always been there for us, and now he was here for Arlene when she needed him most.
The doctor walked into the room again, his face filled with a mix of exhaustion and relief.
"Mr. Smith," he said, looking at me with sympathetic eyes.
"Michael's surgery is finished. He's stable for now, but he'll need to stay in the hospital for a few more days to recover."
Arlene squeezed my hand tightly, her face filled with relief.
Matt, who had been standing by the window, turned around and nodded solemnly.
The doctor continued to explain Michael's condition, telling us that he had suffered some internal damage but was out of immediate danger.
Arlene and Matt exchanged a look of gratitude, their faces filled with relief.
As the doctor finished speaking, Arlene got up from her chair and hugged him tightly.
"Thank you so much," she said, her voice filled with emotion.