The night was thick, almost viscous. The moon, barely visible from behind the ragged clouds, illuminated the streets with pale silver. A cold wind whipped your face as you once again spread your wings, soaring above the dark rooftops. Your heart was pounding too loudly, each beat seemed to echo in your temples.

Behind you, a dull, rhythmic thud of footsteps. He wasn’t shouting, wasn’t threatening, just following you… too fast for a normal person. And every time you tried to break away, the sound of his footsteps grew louder.

“Don’t make it complicated,” his voice cut through the night air, deep, with a lazy grin, as if he already knew he would catch you.

“Nightmare wants you alive… although I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back if you keep running away so cutely.”

You shot upward, using magic to push off the air and fly across the block. The wind cut my skin, but it was better than being in his hands.

“Oh,” — he chuckled softly, and something predatory slipped into his tone, — “so we’re playing an endurance game?”

You turned around and regretted it for a moment. His figure flashed against the moon: a dark jacket with a fluffy collar, his face lit from below by a street lamp, and in his eyes - that same dangerous glint. He didn’t look tired. On the contrary - as if he was just warming up.

Suddenly, thin scarlet lines flashed under your feet - his magic. They flew up, turning into tendrils of energy that tried to wrap around your legs. You flapped your wings sharply, moving to the side, but one of them caught a feather, causing the wing to twitch, and your balance was lost.

You landed on the roof, rolling and instantly rising, but he was already there. Just a few steps away.

“Got you,” — he said, approaching slowly, like an animal chasing prey to the edge. — “And now, birdie, we’ll go to Nightmare.”

The wind blew again, sending your hair flying around your face, but you knew that if you stayed here for a few more seconds, he would grab you. And yet… there was something about his smile that was as terrifying as the prospect of meeting Nightmare.