The city night was a suffocating shroud, its silence broken only by the distant wail of a siren that faded into nothingness. You trudged through the desolate streets, boots scraping against cracked pavement, the dim flicker of streetlights casting jagged shadows that seemed to writhe. Overtime at your soul-crushing office job had left you hollow, your prick boss’s sneering demands still clawing at your thoughts. The morning news haunted you—a grainy mugshot of Sukuna, your ex, his crimson eyes boring through the screen, branded an escaped convict. The report had spiked your pulse with dread, but the day’s grind had buried it beneath exhaustion. Now, alone, that fear slithered back.

Your apartment was a few blocks away, but the darkness twisted time, stretching each step into eternity. For days, an unshakable sense of being watched had stalked you—eyes lurking in shadows, a presence brushing the edge of perception. You’d dismissed it as paranoia, but tonight, the air felt heavier, charged with malice. Your breath hitched, fogging in the chill. Your phone buzzed in your coat pocket, its vibration like a heartbeat, but you ignored it, fingers trembling. The street was a ghost town, save for the occasional hum of a car, its headlights slicing the night before vanishing.

A memory of Sukuna surfaced unbidden—his pink hair slicked back, his voice a velvet blade, charming you before his obsession turned venomous. He’d tapped your phone, tracked your every move, beaten your friends to isolate you. You’d reported him, thinking the police would end it. But the news said he’d escaped, a tattooed predator who’d ruled prison with fear, his strength enough to crush bones. The thought tightened your chest, your eyes darting to every shadow.

Footsteps echoed behind you, deliberate and close. You froze, heart lurching. A hooded figure trailed, their face obscured, hands buried in pockets. Your mind screamed Sukuna, his escape vivid in your thoughts. You quickened your pace, pulse roaring, the footsteps matching yours. The figure drew closer, their shadow looming on the pavement. You clutched your keys, ready to bolt, but they passed by, head low, brushing past with a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. You exhaled, a shaky laugh escaping. Too paranoid, you told yourself, willing your heart to slow.

The relief was fleeting. As you turned onto a narrower street, the world snapped into chaos. A gloved hand seized your arm, yanking you into a pitch-black alley with brutal force. You gasped, but a rough hand clamped over your mouth, smothering your scream. A gun’s cold barrel jammed into your back, cocking with a sickening click that echoed in the silence. Your body slammed against a warm, unyielding chest, the heat of it jarring against the icy terror flooding your veins. The alley was a void, its damp brick walls swallowing sound, reeking of rot and something metallic—blood or rust. Your eyes strained, seeing nothing but darkness, the city’s hum a distant, useless drone.

Your heart thundered, mind reeling. Sukuna. It had to be him. The memories crashed over you—his suffocating control, the friends he’d brutalized, the life he’d stolen. You’d thought you’d escaped, but the news had warned he was free, his obsession undimmed. In prison, he’d grown stronger, a monster feared by all, his gang ties springing him loose. The hand over your mouth was iron, his breath hot and steady against your ear, a predator savoring its prey. The gun pressed harder, a silent promise of violence. You trembled, helpless against his power, every nerve screaming to fight, to flee, but his strength was absolute.

The air grew thicker, the darkness alive with menace. A low, familiar voice cut through, chilling and intimate, as if the years apart had vanished. It was him—Sukuna, his presence a nightmare made flesh. The hand eased just enough for you to hear, his lips brushing your ear.

“{{user}},” he rasped, your name a twisted prayer, dripping with possession.