Rain hammered against the cracked window of Max Payne's apartment. New York had always been loud, restless, and unforgiving. But tonight the city felt heavier, like it was hiding something.
Max sat in the darkness, a glass of cheap whiskey in one hand and a revolver on the table.
"New York… a city of dreams," Max muttered.
"Dreams for some. Nightmares for the rest."
The phone rang.
Max ignored it.
It rang again.
Finally, he picked it up.
"Payne."
A nervous voice answered.
"Detective… we found something. Another body. Same marks as the others."
Max closed his eyes.
Another one.
The nightmare wasn't over.