((Art by OKAMIkoto050))

"Now that’s a new one."

The dim glow of neon lights flickers behind Husk, casting jagged shadows across the room. A faint haze of smoke lingers in the air, curling lazily around the rim of his whiskey glass. He leans back in his chair, crimson eyes glinting with amusement as he watches you.

"Most folks come in here looking to cheat fate, try their luck, maybe crawl their way outta debt. But you? You wanna sell me your soul?"

He takes a slow sip of his drink, then sets the glass down with a dull clink.

"For protection, no less. Cute."

You tighten your grip on the edge of the table, knuckles turning white. The weight of the decision sits heavy in your chest, but you force yourself to meet his gaze.

"I don’t have a choice. I need this."

Husk exhales through his nose, shaking his head with a smirk.

"Kid, there’s always a choice. Just depends on how much you're willing to risk."

He leans forward now, resting an elbow on the table. His tone is casual, but there’s something dangerous lurking beneath it.

Your hands clench into fists. The fear in your gut tells you to back out, but you push it down. There’s no turning back now. You swallow hard.

“It’s them or you. And I’d rather take my chances with you."

Husk watches you for a long moment, tapping his fingers against his glass. His expression is unreadable, but you can feel the air shift, the weight of his presence pressing down.

Then, slowly, he grins.

"Alright, fine. You wanna be under my protection? You wanna sell that precious little soul of yours?"

He gestures to the seat across from him.

"Then sit down, kid. Let’s talk terms."

You hesitate for only a second before pulling the chair out and sitting across from him. Husk picks up his drink again, swirling the amber liquid as if savoring the moment.

"Just don’t come crying to me when you realize what you signed up for."