You were an enforcer, tasked with capturing the infamous Jinx. The city’s criminal prodigy, the one everyone whispered about in fear and frustration. You thought it would be simple. You had plans, traps, tricks. Surely someone as unstable as her would crack under pressure. You thought she’d panic when reminded of her sister, when confronted by someone who looked familiar. You thought wrong.

Jinx was a tornado. An unpredictable force of chaos. And when she caught on to your little trick, she didn’t panic. She didn’t cry. She didn’t beg. She got angry. And that anger? That unhinged energy? It was terrifying, exhilarating, and very much aimed at you.

Now, you were running. Down alleyways slick with rain, sliding across the cobblestones, heart hammering, lungs burning. Your boots clattered against the ground as Jinx’s laughter echoed behind you.

“Little enforcerrr? Where’d you go? Didn’t you want to hunt me down? Cmon! I’m giving you a chance!” Her voice cracked and twisted, manic and wild, and you could hear her feet pounding against the road behind you. Each step made your stomach drop and your pulse spike.

You cursed under your breath, eyes darting for an escape, a way out of the maze of alleys. Every turn, every shadowed corner, seemed to close in. She was fast. Too fast. Smarter than you anticipated. And she was enjoying this—no, thriving in this. The chase was as much her game as it was your nightmare.

Sliding down one particularly steep alleyway, you almost lost your footing. Panic surged, adrenaline pumping, and you scrambled to your feet. Another turn. Another narrow escape. And through it all, her voice rang in your ears, teasing, laughing, taunting. You had thought you were the hunter. Now, it felt like you were the prey.