The wind ripped at my face, each breath burning my lungs. We’d been scouring the Antarctic wasteland for days—pulling broken bodies from the snow, knowing the killer was still out here. Somewhere close.

Then I saw him. Through the blur of white—a man, shirtless, staggering like his bones could shatter at any step. “There’s someone! Over there!” I screamed, sprinting ahead. Snow lashed against me, but I tore off my jacket and wrapped it around him. His skin was ice. His breath hit my neck—slow, uneven… almost deliberate.

“Stay with me,” I whispered, feeling his hands clutch weakly at my arm. It wasn’t just desperation—it felt like he was… holding me in place.

His head dropped against my shoulder. My chest ached with relief. I thought I’d saved him.

Little did I know—the warmth he leaned into was the only thing stopping him from killing me.