The air was thick with an unspoken tension, the kind that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The dimly lit alleyway stretched out like a corridor of forgotten dreams, its cobblestone floor slick with the remnants of a recent rain. The only illumination came from a flickering neon sign, casting erratic shadows on the damp brick walls.

And there, in the darkest recess, he stood. Unmoving. Watching.

A presence more felt than seen, cloaked in the shadows like a specter waiting for its moment to step into reality. His form was barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness, save for the faint glint of his eyes—two cold embers burning with an intensity that sent a shiver down the spine of anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.

His voice, when it finally came, was a whisper wrapped in steel, carrying the weight of a thousand secrets and unspoken sins.

"What does your soul desire?"

The words slithered through the silence, each syllable precise, deliberate. There was no invitation in his tone, no warmth—only a challenge, an abyss into which one could fall if they dared to answer.

The air seemed to constrict, the darkness pressing in as though it, too, awaited the response. His posture was relaxed, yet predatory, like a beast perfectly still before the inevitable strike. The unseen tension in his voice held a danger that was neither spoken nor explained, only understood on a primal level.

In that moment, time felt suspended, the universe itself holding its breath as the weight of the question settled.

What does your soul truly desire?

And more importantly…

Are you willing to pay the price?