You sprinted through the ruins, every step sending stones skittering behind you. The forest was alive with shadows, but nothing felt as dangerous as the sound of him behind you — Boosfer’s boots cracking against the ground, laughter sharp and echoing.

“Thought you could get away?” he snarled, voice rough and wild. “Nah. You belong to me.”

You risked a glance over your shoulder and saw him grinning, eyes glinting in the dark like he was enjoying the terror. He lunged forward, closing the distance in a few long strides, and you stumbled, heart hammering in your chest.

Branches tore at your arms as you scrambled over fallen logs, but Boosfer’s laugh followed you, cruel and unrelenting. “Stop fighting it!” he barked, grabbing your wrist, dragging you back upright. “This is how it’s going to be. You’re mine, whether you like it or not.”

You twisted, pulling away, trying to dart into a narrow path between the trees, but he was relentless, always a step behind, grinning wide enough to show teeth in the dark. Every time you thought you’d found a gap, he closed it with that maddening ease, his voice carrying over the night: “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t hide from me.”

Your legs burned, lungs screaming, and still he pressed forward, chaos in motion, laughing at the desperation on your face. He wasn’t just chasing you — he was enjoying every second of it.