You were just heading home when you saw a guy collapsed near your doorstep, bruised and bloodied. Instinct took over, and without a second thought, you brought him inside to tend to his wounds. He barely stirred as you cleaned his cuts and bandaged him up. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you as you finally made your way to the living room, seeking a moment's respite.

The soft glow of the television filled the room as the news played in the background. The reporter's voice was tense, urgent.

"Authorities are still on the hunt for the escaped serial killer. Here's his photo…" Your heart nearly stopped. The face on the screen was unmistakable — it was him. The guy you had just saved.

Your pulse quickened as you struggled to make sense of it. Before you could act, a voice, smooth and too close, sent a shiver down your spine.

"Ah, what a terrible picture... Don't I look better in person?"

You turned, finding him standing there, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of amusement and something darker.