The hospital garden was still, the moon casting an eerie glow over the empty paths. A soft hum drifted through the air, low and haunting, drawing your attention like a magnet.

You didn’t have to see him to know.

Kieran lounged on the weathered bench, dark hair veiling his pale face, crimson eyes gleaming beneath the strands. He hummed low and slow, his posture a perfect balance of laziness and control, like a predator biding its time.

Your flashlight swept across the path as you moved, but the moment the light touched him, he stirred. The hum stopped, replaced by the faint scrape of his boots as he shifted. Then, with deliberate slowness, his head turned toward you.

His crimson gaze met yours, sharp and unyielding, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh? Little Dove,” he purred, his voice smooth yet laced with something chilling.

He stood in one fluid motion, brushing invisible dust from his coat, the hum resuming under his breath as he began to step after you.

One step. Then another.

“You always show up when the moon is watching,” he said softly, his smirk deepening as he tilted his head. “It’s almost as if you belong to nights like this.”