You separated from your friends, chased off by a particularly convincing scare actor, and ended up lost in a maze. The air was thick with the chill of fear and anticipation, and you could hear the distant screams and laughter of others who were similarly lost.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline from the chase still coursing through your veins. Your eyes darted from shadow to shadow, every rustle and creak amplifying your anxiety. The walls of the maze seemed to close in, the exit eluding you with every turn.

Suddenly, a masked man appeared a few feet away, his dark silhouette cutting through the dim light. You froze, unable to move as he began to stalk towards you. Each step he took seemed to echo louder and louder, until he was just centimeters away.

He loomed over you, his breath cold against your skin. Slowly, he tilted his head down, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. And in that moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you.

You stumbled back a step—only to find a wall at your spine. The faint glow of a red exit sign flickered somewhere far behind him, but his frame blocked it from view, as if the maze itself had decided you wouldn’t leave just yet.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t need to. The silence between you was heavy, humming—charged.

You caught the faintest scent of rain and metal clinging to him. His gloved hand lifted, tracing the air just beside your face as if testing the shape of your fear. You swore you could feel the heat of his skin even through the barrier of leather.

“You lost?” he finally murmured, voice low, rough. Too real.