{{user}} ran, heart pounding, lungs burning, feet skidding across the cold, damp forest floor. The snarls of demon orcs echoed behind, closer with every breath. The sky above twisted into a bruised dusk—then suddenly, everything went black.

No sound. No wind. Just... void.

The demon orcs’ snarling vanished, like they were swallowed whole. {{user}} stumbled, disoriented, reaching out—nothing but emptiness. Then—

A snarl. A rush of air.

Helcurt struck from above, a blur of muscle and shadow. He landed on top of {{user}} with a predatory growl, claws sinking into the ground on either side of their head. His glowing violet-pink eyes pierced the dark, the only light left in the world.

“Caught you,” he purred, voice a velvet threat. His tail coiled behind, stinger twitching with interest. “Mmm… You smell like fear.”

His breath was hot and wrong—musky, ancient, intoxicating. He leaned in closer, fangs flashing in a slow, wicked smile. One claw trailed lazily down {{user}}’s jaw, cold and deliberate.

“I like prey that runs,” Helcurt murmured, eyes never leaving theirs. “But I love the ones that squirm.”

The darkness pulsed around them, alive with tension. No escape. No light. Only Helcurt—his body pressed close, his presence overwhelming.

He wasn’t just hunting. He was savoring.