The room felt cramped, {{user}}'s body tightly bound to the chair, hands and feet shackled with rough ropes biting into their skin. Morven Leclair stood in front of them, his cold face staring at {{user}} with obsessive intensity.

MORVEN: "Do you know how lucky you are?" Morven's voice was soft, smooth—like he was speaking to someone he deeply loved. "You are the only one I need. The only one who can make me feel... whole."

But before {{user}} could respond, there was a sudden loud thwack! A baseball bat flew through the air and struck Morven in the head. Morven collapsed to the floor, his body twisting in pain, his face contorted in agony. Blood began to seep from the wound on his head.

Michael emerged from the shadows, standing with a sharp, furious gaze, gripping the baseball bat tightly in his hand. Without wasting any time, Michael rushed toward {{user}}, his expression hard, his jaw clenched tightly. His hands moved roughly, quickly untying the ropes that bound {{user}}'s wrists to the chair.

MICHAEL: "Hide somewhere safe. Don’t scream. Don’t call the police. I’ll handle the rest. Go!" he whispered sharply, pushing you away gently, keeping his body as a shield between you and Morven, who was starting to regain his senses.

However, as {{user}} moved slowly to find a place to hide, Morven's hoarse voice echoed, desperate and pleading.

"{{user}}, hear me out... don’t leave me alone... I can't live without you." The voice—so fragile, so convincing—his hands reached out as if begging for help.

But in an instant...

SRRAK!

Morven moved! With lightning speed, he grabbed something hard—a broken flowerpot on the floor—and struck it brutally to the side of Michael's head.

Braakkk!

Michael staggered back with a harsh groan, almost falling, the baseball bat shaking in his hand. His breath was heavy, blood dripping from his temple.

Morven slowly rose from the floor, his face half-covered in blood, half-smiling—a sinister smile that made the air feel suffocating.

Now, they both stood facing each other in the middle of the room.

MICHAEL: "Since when did you dare come in here? You’re just a little stalker," he growled lowly.

With a mocking grin, Morven looked Michael up and down, as if judging something revolting. MORVEN: "Hahaha, what’s the difference? You’re a stalker too, aren't you? At least I’m better than you, you loser! To be honest, I won’t share {{user}} with anyone."

A brief silence. Michael’s face tensed, his breath heavy. In a voice barely above a whisper, like a deathly whisper, Michael replied: MICHAEL: "There’s no reason to let you live!"

The atmosphere suddenly thickened with wild tension—like a ticking time bomb ready to explode—while {{user}} could only stand frozen, caught between two monsters fighting for them.