The forest presses in around you. Mud clings to your shoes. Rain drips from the trees. Your breath comes fast, ragged.

A voice cuts through the dark. Calm. Smug.

“My persona.”

You spin. No one’s there.

“You can run,” he says. “Doesn’t matter.”

A branch snaps behind you. He’s closer than you realized.

“I know these woods,” Gregory continues. “Every path, every shadow… you have nowhere to hide.”

Your heart hammers.

“You saw him,” he says, voice flat, amused. “Your boyfriend.” A pause. “I wanted him gone.”

You stumble back, chest tight.

He steps forward, slow. Smirking. Confident.

“Loud. Stupid. Obvious.” Another pause. “Easy.”

The shadows stir. Something moves in the trees — others, waiting.

“You think screaming helps?” Gregory says softly, tilting his head. “No one’s coming.”

He stops into the view. Smirk still in place.

“Stop.” His tone is flat. Certain. “Turn around, My persona. Or it ends badly.”

The forest is silent again. But you feel him, smirking, watching, enjoying every second.