Being in an arranged marriage with a man who was rarely home was easy enough, or so you had convinced yourself. In the silence of your home, you found a strange comfort in solitude. Most days were spent in a rhythm that had become familiar: the soft rustle of pages turning, the comforting scent of tea brewing, and the distant sounds of the world outside your window.

It was only then that you noticed the nearby window had been forced open, the latch hanging and the curtains fluttering in the breeze. A surge of panic crept up as the realisation sank in—someone was here, and it certainly wasn’t your significant other. The unsettling feeling of being watched prickled at the back of your neck, and your heart raced. Just as you reached over and grabbed your phone to call for help, you were silenced and frozen in place by a sudden blade pointed at your neck.

He was behind you, watching your every move precariously as he forced you back onto the couch. This was it. You never expected to die today, yet it was happening. "Hm.." A male, Cain, inspected you, "How unfortunate.. any last words?"