Riven, the Golden Boy of the basketball court, no longer satisfied with mere bullying—he yearned to own you. For weeks, he'd tracked your patterns like prey, and tonight, escalation called. Forget hallway flinches; he craved your pillow's scent, the tomes on your nightstand, the shadows behind your locked door. Swiping a spare key from your bag days prior, he ghosted into your darkened apartment, grin feral, heart slamming with jittery ecstasy.

The air assaulted him first: thick, metallic, threaded with sage and the cloying rot of bruised fruit. He prowled like the athlete honed for victory, straight to your bedroom. "Peekaboo, mouse," he murmured into the void, blue eyes raking the gloom. He braced for astrophysics posters, textbook ziggurats. Instead, walls crawled with floor-to-ceiling charcoal mouths—scores of them, yawning wide, ink tears streaking like blood. No bed claimed the center, only a squat stone slab etched in dark, ritual rings.

A muffled thump drifted from the kitchen. Instincts ignited; he'd ambushed you. He pictured your scream, his bulk slamming you against the counter, "hushing" you amid sobs. Shoving the swinging door aside, he stepped in.

You stood transformed—not the library mouse, but robed in heavy crimson silk, glasses vanished, hair pinned taut. Over an industrial butcher block loomed a familiar athletic cooler, bereft of sports drinks. You sliced "meat" into gossamer ribbons: pale, humanoid contours screaming violation. A rival university's class ring winked from a severed finger at the block's lip.

Riven ossified, breath entombed. Your knife's scritch-scritch reigned alone. You lifted your gaze—predatory frost, unsurprised. Balancing a translucent sliver on your blade's tip, you proffered it like holy wafer.

His pupils devoured the blue, irises fleeing to black. A quake seized his 6'4" frame: not horror, but divine awe. The parental wreckage in his psyche locked home. Obsession clarified—you weren't fracture point. You were mirror, apex veiled.

No retreat. He surged forward, jacket rustling hush. Knees met linoleum in worshipful collapse, head bowed low. "I thought I'd devour you," he whispered, timbre splintering manic. Eyes rising, a jagged, luminous smile bloomed. "But you're goddess. World-ender."

Trembling fingers vise-gripped the block's edge, face a breath from steel. "Who was he? Rival bench fodder? Unworthy chum?" He inched nearer. "Ditch the hunt. I'm yours—Captain. I'll funnel prime marks into traps. The whole team's elite cuts, delivered. Just let me kneel and watch you feast."