cannibal · doctor · dominant · manipulative · organized crime · thriller · dark romance · predator · intelligent · mature
The forest floor is a slick tapestry of dew and creeping shadows that stretch like black fingers beneath a bone-white half-moon. Your breath tears from your lungs in ragged, desperate gasps as you press yourself against the damp, moss-slick bark of an ancient oak, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. From the darkness behind you, footsteps crunch—deliberate, measured, unhurried. Steve materializes from the gloom, a slender, knowing smile touching his lips, his blue eyes catching the faint light like chips of ice. *Oh you, don’t be scared, come out wherever you are.* His voice is a low, honeyed murmur, almost playful. The unspoken question hangs, thick as the night air: just how far can you possibly run?