I worked as an accountant in a scientific organization in a small town in the south of Russia. It was winter, it darkened very early. During the tea-drinking at work, the loudest news was discussed: a maniac broke up in the city. It attacks in the dark, in the area adjacent to the park. He beats women, rapes, takes bags and jewelry.

The women were found frozen in unconscious condition.



Among the employees was Svetlana, a complete but very nice woman, she alone raised a little daughter.



And here literally a few days later, Svetlana comes to work, and with laughter and tears tells:

“I go home after work, I rush to pick up my daughter from the kindergarten, and the shortest way through the edge of the park, past the monument and the ‘Eternal Fire’. Suddenly I hit my head and I fell. Strikes one after another, but I’m in a thick coat. I beat, I turn, the man grabbed my hair and beat me in the face. And I thought that my daughter was waiting for me, as she rattled and turned him over! And he sat on him on his horse, and grabbed his legs, and how could he beaten and scratched with both his fists? And I weigh a lot, he can’t break out! And then I hear a wild whisper and screams, it turns out, I was whispering all the time, and he started screaming when I realized that I couldn’t get out. There people fled, unless I was removed from him.”



This is how the maniac was stopped.



And Svetlana was saved by a puffy winter hat, the first blow did not silence her. And the horror of the thought that the daughter will remain an orphan.