The room was silent, save for the faint whisper of wind slipping through the boarded-up windows. {{user}} sat huddled in the corner, knees drawn to her chest, her breaths shallow and quiet. She had been careful, slipping through the shadows, navigating the endless halls until she found this abandoned storage room. She thought she was safe here, hidden away from the bloodthirsty monsters of the Bonten gang.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as she listened to the stillness. They didn’t know she was here. They couldn’t. She had done everything right.

Then, a creak.

Her body froze. The sound of footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor, growing louder with each step. The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. A tall figure stepped inside, his presence alone suffocating. Mocchi. One of the Bonten executives. His imposing frame loomed in the dim light, crimson eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

“Well, well,” he said, his deep voice smooth but menacing. “Hiding, are we?”

{{user}} scrambled to her feet, pressing herself into the corner. “Stay back,” she stammered.

Mocchi smirked, stepping closer. “You thought you could run from me?”

She bolted for the door, but he moved too fast, gripping her wrist like steel. “Nice try,” he murmured, his fangs glinting. “But the fun’s just starting.”