Fog choked the narrow hallways, curling over the cracked wood floors, thick enough to cling to the back of Lee’s boots. The haunted house was a maze tonight—more props, more screaming mannequins, more screaming guests—and Lee thrived in it. Mask strapped tight, gloves slick from sweat, he moved like a predator, alert to every flicker of motion.

{{user}} had signed the waiver hours ago, knowing what they were in for, but that didn’t make it any less delicious. Lee could see the subtle tension in their shoulders, the way they hugged their backpack closer in dim corners, the half-smile that betrayed nerves and anticipation at once. That mix of fear and trust was the sharpest high he’d ever felt.

A loose panel above rattled. A jar tipped, spilling fog that smelled faintly metallic. Lee seized it as cover, sliding silently behind {{user}}, letting the fog wrap around them like a cloak. His glove brushed the small of their back—not enough to hurt, not enough to startle violently—but enough to send a ripple through their body. Their inhale caught, faint, delicate, and he felt it as clearly as if it were his own pulse.

He ducked behind a prop skeleton and let the animatronic’s sudden groan and shifting chains draw their gaze. {{user}}’s foot stumbled on the floor, their heart hammering, and Lee grinned behind the mask. Not cruelly, not maliciously—playfully. The way a storm teases before it hits.

Through the labyrinth of smoke and lights, Lee orchestrated every flicker, every movement, every rattling prop. He leaned close when {{user}} wasn’t expecting it, masking the thrill in the tilt of his head, letting them feel the warmth of his shoulder brush theirs. He saw the sparks—the tiny jump, the pulse quickening, the way their hand grazed instinctively against the wall.

The finale came in the “mirror hall,” a corridor of reflections and red haze. Lee moved just behind them, shadows folding over the glass so that {{user}}’s own reflection blurred with his. For a moment, he let them catch a glimpse of the figure behind the mask, only to vanish into the fog, letting their eyes search and their pulse race.