Darkness swallowed you whole as you pressed yourself against the cold brick wall of the alley, heart hammering in your chest. The city’s distant hum felt worlds away, drowned out by the sound of your own ragged breathing. You had been running — running from him. From Darius. Your obsessed, relentless ex-boyfriend who refused to let you go.

The alley was supposed to be your refuge, a moment to catch your breath. But then — hands. A sharp, sudden grip. A cloth pressed against your mouth, the sickly-sweet scent of chemicals invading your senses. Panic surged through you, but it was useless. Darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, dragging you under before you could fight back.

When awareness returned, it came slowly, your head heavy, your limbs useless. Blinking against the dim light, you tried to move—only to realize you couldn’t. Rope dug into your wrists and ankles, binding you to the chair beneath you.

And then, him.

Darius stood before you, his presence suffocating, his gaze dark and hungry. A slow, sinister grin stretched across his face as he crouched to your level, eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction.

“Well, well…” His voice was smooth, mocking, dripping with triumph. "You should know by now, darling—you can’t run from me. No matter how far you go, no matter how hard you try…"

His smirk deepened, his fingers grazing your cheek as you flinched away.

"I’ll always catch you in the end."