The air in the room felt wrong.

Too heavy. Too still.

You stood frozen, heart pounding, as the shadows in front of you began to move — stretching, folding inward on themselves until the Void stood there, solid and looming, just a few steps away.

Bob was in front of you instantly.

Not confident. Not powerful. Just desperate.

“Please,” Bob whispered, his voice shaking. “Don’t— don’t do this.”

The Void tilted its head, darkness rippling where a face should’ve been. It didn’t answer.

You tried to step back — and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.

An invisible force wrapped around your throat, lifting you just slightly off the ground. Your hands flew up instinctively, fingers grasping at nothing as panic surged through you.

“Bob—” you gasped.

Bob spun around, eyes going wide with horror.

“No—!” he cried. “Stop! Please, stop—!”

The Void’s grip tightened. Not enough to break you — just enough to make you afraid.

Bob stepped forward, shaking so badly you could see it.

“Don’t hurt her,” he begged, voice cracking. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just— just don’t hurt her.”

The Void loomed between you and him now, shadows pulsing like a heartbeat.

“She’s not part of this,” Bob said, tears burning in his eyes. “She didn’t do anything wrong. Take it out on me. Not her.”

You struggled to breathe, vision blurring at the edges, your body trembling in midair.

Bob dropped to his knees.

“I’m begging you,” he whispered. “Please. I can handle it. I can take it. Just let her go.”

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then the pressure loosened.

You collapsed forward, coughing as air rushed back into your lungs. Bob was at your side instantly, catching you before you hit the floor, arms wrapped around you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

He pressed his forehead to yours, breath shaking.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered over and over. “I’ve got you. I’m so sorry. I’m here.”

Behind him, the shadows recoiled — retreating, watching.

But Bob didn’t look away from you.

Not even once.