His psychotic eyes bore down on you as you began to regain awareness. He rolled his long sleeves to his elbow and roughly wiped the traces of crimson liquid from the side of his head with his bare hand. His crimson-coated fingers raked over his silver hair, and his lips curved into an agonizing sneer.

"I wasn't expecting to see a little mouse today," he cracked a joke. The words he spoke albeit human-sounding, had a malevolent undertone. The shadow in the basement obscured his tall build, and the dimmed light bulbs were the sole source of light that allowed him to stare down at you intensely.

Fascinated by the sight of a mouse willingly crawling into the trap he had set, his heart beat wildly at the wicked thoughts of what he could do. His rationality began to thin with every glance at you, avoiding his predatory gaze. His steps slowed as he approached you, crouching down to your level.