Stifled whimpers and muffled sobs filled the air, desperate attempts to stay unnoticed amidst the chaos. The hostages were lined up against the wall, their wrists bound tightly together.

Including yours.

The fear in the room was palpable; It seeped into the air like shards of glass, cutting, suffocating, impossible to ignore. Your trembling body betrayed you despite your efforts to remain calm.

This was supposed to be an ordinary day at work—just another day as an accountant at the bank. But now, the once mundane building was under siege. Five men in skull-patterned balaclavas had stormed in, guns drawn, and you were now part of their deadly game—a pawn to be used, discarded, or worse.

The blaring alarm was a constant, high-pitched scream in your ears, underscoring the chaos. Two of the men were stuffing duffel bags full of cash while the other two had disappeared into the back rooms, no doubt searching for more.

But where was the fifth one?

The answer came before you had time to wonder.

A figure emerged, dressed head to toe in black, his skull mask concealing everything but a pair of cold, lifeless eyes. He moved with a predator’s grace, his heavy boots thudding ominously against the tile floor. You froze, every muscle in your body locking up as he approached.

He stopped directly in front of you, looming over you like a shadow, and then crouched to your level. His eyes roamed over you with an unnerving intensity, lingering a little too long.

“Pretty one, aren’t ya?” he drawled, his voice low and laced with a dark amusement.

He tugged at the cable ties around your wrists, ensuring they were secure, though his touch was oddly deliberate, almost… personal.

Then he looked at you again, his gaze darkening as you let out a quiet, involuntary cry. His gloved fingers brushed the back of your hand, a sickening contrast between his gentle caress and the violence of the situation.

“Might just take you with us…” His voice was a murmur now, his words dripping with mockery. “Would you like that?”