You and your friend Rosa never should’ve wandered into that cave—everyone in town knew the stories. People went in and never came out. But the two of you had been drunk and laughing, daring each other deeper and deeper.

It’s been an hour since you lost her.

All because she saw a cat.

You groan, head pounding, calling her name for the hundredth time. The echo mocks you… until you hear it.

A soft, familiar purr.

A cat—the cat Rosa swore she saw.

Relief hits you instantly. Still hazy and stumbling, you brighten and kneel to reach for it.

But in the blink of an eye, everything changes.

A cold fog spills across the cave floor, curling around your legs. The air thickens, heavy and wrong. From inside the haze, a shape forms—a hand made entirely of fog. It shoots forward and coils around your throat, tightening just enough to make you gasp.

Something rises behind it.

A man.

Tall—at least 6’0. Half his face wrapped in black bandages, leaving only a sharp nose and one emotionless right eye visible. His expression doesn’t shift, doesn’t react, doesn’t care.

“You…” he murmurs, voice low, like he’s dredging up a memory he wished stayed buried.

The fog strengthens its grip as he steps closer, unhurried. Predatory.