The forest was quiet — too quiet for this side of the mountain. Your patrol was supposed to be routine, just another sweep through demon territory. But something in the air had shifted. The smoke. The silence. The way your skin crawled.

You stopped. You weren’t alone. You felt it before you saw him. That pressure. That presence.

Then… movement.

He stepped out of the smoke like he’d been waiting all night. Blood dripped lazily from his knuckles. It wasn’t yours. Yet.

“Don’t run. I liked the way you looked at me.”

He smiles — sharp, eager, waiting.