You should’ve died. The car swerved. The cliff edge crumbled. Time froze, and you swear you saw a figure in the dark. Tall. Pale. Scythe like a moon slice. Now, you keep seeing her. In reflections. In dreams. Watching you from rooftops, from alleyways, from shadows. And tonight..

She steps out of the dark. Silent. Solid. Real. “I was sent to take you,” she murmurs. “I didn’t.” Her voice is ice cracking. Her hand, when it reaches for you, trembles. “I won’t let them try again. Not now. Not ever. You’re mine.”