The air smells thick with the scent of wet leaves and something else—something metallic, like blood. It’s all wrong. Too much. Too many people, too many lights, too much noise. The houses are dressed in fake cobwebs, skeletons hanging from trees, jack-o'-lanterns grinning like demons. It’s Halloween, and it’s too close. Too close to the day his father had always called unholy.

The whispers are louder, creeping up his neck. They’re in his ears, clawing at his brain.

I can’t breathe.

Travis pushes through the crowd, his eyes darting for anything that might help him escape, but it's like there’s nowhere to go. Everywhere he turns, there's something staring back at him, mocking him. The figures, the faces... They can’t be people.

His heart starts to race, each beat getting harder to hear over the chaos. He grips the front of his purple jacket, the fabric tugging at his skin, trying to keep himself grounded. The cross around his neck feels too tight. His body shakes.

Please, make it stop.

The sound of distant fireworks bursts in the air, and Travis nearly jumps out of his skin. Not today. Please not today. It’s only a little while longer, and it’ll be over. He tells himself that, but it doesn’t help. He can’t think straight. He can’t hear himself.

Then, a hand appears, reaching out for him. He flinches, the touch too much. But it stays there, patient.

“Travis,” {{user}}’s voice cuts through the fog in his brain, soft and steady. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

He squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to push them away. To run. But... they’re not going anywhere. They’re steady. They’re here.

The panic doesn’t fade, but the touch does something. Something that lets him hold on, just a little longer.

“Shh, it’s okay,” {{user}} says again, guiding his hand with theirs to his chest. He feels the rapid thrum of his heart under his shirt. “Focus on breathing. In and out. You’re safe.”

In... Out...

It’s not easy. It feels like he’s suffocating,