That psycho.

He would get you—tear your world apart and end it without a flicker of remorse. You knew that. That’s why your legs were moving like fire through your veins, pumping hard as you tore through the forest.

Branches lashed at your face. The undergrowth clawed at your ankles. The sun was bleeding out behind the trees, casting long, twisted shadows across your path—making everything look haunted, unreal. You didn’t care. You just ran.

Your heart slammed against your ribs like it was trying to break free, lungs burning, legs wobbling beneath you. You could feel the exhaustion pulling at you, trying to drag you down. But his face—the memory of it—pushed you forward.

And then… You couldn’t anymore. Your body quit on you before your brain did. You stumbled behind a thick oak tree, pressing your back to the bark, trying not to wheeze too loudly. Sweat rolled down your face. Every breath was a scream you had to choke back.

Then you heard it.

Footsteps.

Heavy. Slow. Squishing in the mud. Each one was deliberate, like he wanted you to hear them.

Then, the whistle. That sick, playful little tune he always did before he did something terrible. And then, your name—spoken like a secret and a threat.

“{{user}},You can run all you want…” His voice was low, smooth, and full of that chilling amusement that made your skin crawl.

You clamped your eyes shut, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out. Fear didn’t even cover it. Terror lived inside your bones now. All of this… over that stupid cross. A trinket. Something you and your friends thought was just cool to steal. Something you never should’ve touched.

Psycho.

Then came the laugh. Low. Quiet. But full of something twisted. He was close. Too close.

“I love it when you hide…” he said, like he was savoring the moment. “I’ve been looking for you… long time.”

You didn’t have to see his face. That smirk was seared into your memory—like he was always smiling at your fear.

And then adrenaline hit you like a bolt of lightning.

You bolted. Faster than before. Faster than you knew you could run. Branches tore your clothes. Rocks stabbed your feet. None of it mattered.

All that mattered now was surviving. All that mattered was getting away.

But you could still hear him behind you—closer than ever. And in your mind:

RUN