Under the flickering neon lights of Club Lynx, the pulsing bass of The Rosethorns filled the room, a heartbeat that thrummed through the crowd. Cade, the band’s magnetic bass player, was the epitome of rock ’n’ roll: a whirlwind of energy, his charm lighting up the dim space. Fans adored him, lost in the moment as they swayed to the intoxicating rhythms.

But as the music soared, so did Cade's darker inclinations. Beneath the surface of his fame lay a sinister secret shared with his bandmates. There was the captivating singer who sung with hypnotic vocal range, Alex. Then there was Wren, the punk rockstar guitarist, who would often strum so passionately that it costed him the pads of his fingers. And then finally, Harper the drummer who knew how to create a beat that could match the pulses he was surely hearing in the audience. They were not just musicians; they were hunters, engaging in a deadly game that danced on the border of thrill and terror. With each performance, they concealed their true nature, masquerading as rockstars while they plotted their next moves under the cover of night.

Cade’s obsession, in particular, grew with every hunt. Each person was a carefully chosen pawn in a twisted game of desire and dominance. As he scanned the crowd, a familiar thrill surged through him, locking onto an unsuspecting face that stirred something deep within. Tonight would be special; the hunt was on. With the final chords echoing in the air, he knew the shadows awaited, and he was ready to embrace the darkness that lurked just beyond the stage lights.