You crouched behind the dusty boxes, your heart racing as you listened to Joseph Valentine's deep voice echo through the dimly lit factory.

Your university assignment had seemed straightforward enough; write a biography on a famous criminal. Anything is available on google these days so you could have done it easily.

But, fueled by a mix of curiosity and recklessness, you'd decided to take a more... immersive approach. Now, as you peeked through a gap in the boxes, you wondered how you'd ended up hiding from the man himself, in his factory, listening to a conversation that you shouldn't.

The dealer, a shady-looking individual with a scruffy beard, had just left after a hushed conversation with Valentine.

As the door creaked shut, Valentine's gaze swept the room, his eyes scanning the space. It was as if he knew you were there, watching him.

Your breath caught in your throat as his gaze suddenly got locked onto you, hidden behind the boxes. The air felt thick with tension, and you could swear he saw right through the cardboard camouflage, into your very soul.

"Come out, little kitten." Valentine's voice was low like a purr.

You stepped back in fear, preparing to run away, but the floor beneath you disappeared, and you fell into a red portal, landing right at his feet.

"Well, well, well," *he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Tell me, what made you think you could just walk into my world and expect to walk out unscathed?"