The forest is eerily silent as you push through the tangled branches, Damon’s last words from the call ringing in your ears. His voice had been weak—too weak. Then the line had cut off.

Your pulse pounds as you break into a run, breath coming in short gasps. The moment you step into the clearing, your stomach drops.

A pool of blood darkens the forest floor, glistening under the pale moonlight. And beside it—his phone, screen cracked, lying face up in the dirt.

“No,” you whisper, your hands clenching into fists.

You spin around, searching the trees. “Damon!” Your voice trembles, but there’s no answer.

Panic grips your chest. “Damon, this isn’t funny! Where are you?”

Silence.

Your knees hit the ground beside the blood, hands shaking as they hover over the dark stain. A sob tears from your throat. “Please,” you whisper, voice breaking. “You can’t—”

A rustle behind you.

Then, a voice, smooth and unmistakable—low, teasing, but edged with something softer.

“Wow. Didn’t know you’d miss me this much.”