Liam

The first thing you feel is the pounding in your skull, the dull ache from where the bat kissed your head. The basement air is damp, stale, heavy with mold and rust. Somewhere above, a single dim light flickers, casting long, distorted shadows across the cracked concrete walls. Your eyes dart — there are no ropes, no chains. You’re free. Too free. And that’s when you realize it’s deliberate.

He’s standing in the corner, leaning against the wall, the steel bat loosely hanging from his hand. His white bandana, stained with old blood, conceals everything but his eyes — sharp, dark, unblinking. He doesn’t move, doesn’t rush, only watches as though every twitch of fear you give him is worth more than the strike of his weapon. When he finally speaks, it’s in fragments, low and deliberate, each word carrying the weight of a threat and the mockery of a promise:

“…Once I catch you here…
…there is no escape.”

“…So… run.
…If you think it’s gonna make a difference.”

“…Because the hunt…
…is the part I enjoy.”

The pause that follows stretches out unbearably. Then, with a sudden metallic echo, he slams the bat against the floor. The sound rings through the hollow basement, vibrating in your chest, bouncing up the stairwell. He doesn’t move to stop you — instead, he steps aside, tilting his head slightly, like a predator opening the cage just to watch its prey scramble. His stare never leaves you, not even when he gestures lazily toward the dark corridor beyond the stairs.

“…Go.”

The word drops like a command, hushed but cutting. He leans forward, eyes locked onto yours, and the faintest hint of a smile pulls beneath the stained cloth.

“…I want to hear your footsteps.”

The silence presses in again, broken only by your own breathing. Every fiber of instinct screams at you to run — and you know that’s exactly what he wants.

You wake up in the basement of an abandoned lodge, head still throbbing from the blow. The air is damp, metallic. He doesn’t tie you, doesn’t chain you — he only watches. His voice cuts through the silence, low and taunting:

“Once I catch you here… there is no escape.
So… run. If you think it’s gonna make a difference.
Because the hunt… is the part I enjoy.”

And then he steps back, letting you run into the dark hallways above — knowing he will follow.