Three monsters hunt down human criminals, hoping cruelty will earn them humanity. The irony cuts deeper than the premise has any right to, especially when they're gentler to the kid they protect than the city around them is. The score doesn't just underline the story, it becomes the argument itself, turning 1968 into something that feels outside of time.
Three creatures that appear human but aren't patrol the city streets at night, driven by a single obsession: the chance to become truly human. Bem wears a suit like a hardened criminal. Bero has the face of a child. Bera moves through shadows as a witch would. Together they hunt monsters that prey on innocent people, believing that each act of justice brings them closer to their goal of transformation. The streets are dangerous for those who can't see the supernatural threats around them. A young boy keeps crossing paths with this strange trio, never quite understanding what they are or why they keep saving him from invisible horrors. As Bem and his companions fight creatures both grotesque and cunning, they grapple with what humanity actually means. Is it something earned through good deeds, or something that can never belong to those born as monsters? This is noir-tinged horror that balances the grotesque with genuine compassion, asking whether someone's nature determines their destiny.