You were trained not to fear the dark. Not to flinch at silence. But tonight, the silence wasn’t empty — it pressed in, heavy and alert. You stepped cautiously through the ruins, every sense wide open. You were alone. At least, you told yourself that.

But your instincts knew better. The hairs on your neck stood up before the sound even reached you.

You heard it. Breathing. Not yours.

Behind you. Too close.

“That heartbeat of yours…” he whispers in the dark, “it’s beautiful when it panics.”