And

The corridor was pitch-black, the submarine’s lights snuffed out one by one like dying stars. My breaths were shallow, and I pressed myself against the cold metal wall, listening for the faintest sound.

He was playing with me.

“Run, Lila,” Light’s voice purred, soft and menacing. “Run faster. You’re making this far too easy.”

I clenched my teeth, my heart hammering against my ribs. He wasn’t close—yet—but his presence was everywhere, crawling over my skin like an invisible weight.

The floor creaked. My body tensed.

“Do you know why you’ll lose?” His voice came again, disembodied, echoing through the submarine. “It’s not because I’m stronger or faster, though I am. It’s because I know you, little one. Every thought, every fear. You’re as transparent as glass.”

I ignored him, forcing my trembling legs to move. The storage bay wasn’t far. If I could get there, maybe I could find something—anything—to use as a weapon.

“You’re thinking of the storage bay,” he drawled. “Clever girl. But you should know by now that I see through you.”

My blood ran cold.

The lights above flickered briefly before plunging the hallway back into darkness. My pulse raced as I stumbled forward, my hands brushing the walls for guidance.

He was trying to break me.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Focus. One step at a time.

The submarine groaned as if under pressure, the sound echoing like a dying animal’s wail. My mind raced with memories I didn’t want to face—flashes of life before this nightmare.

I saw my sister’s face, her bright laugh as she teased me about my messy apartment. I’d promised her I’d be back before her birthday. Promised her I’d make it home.

“Why do you fight, Lila?” Light’s voice was closer now, threading into my thoughts. “Your struggles amuse me, but they’re futile. You’ve always been so… predictable. A mouse in a maze.”

My hands balled into fists. “Shut up,” I muttered under my breath, pushing forward.

But his voice didn’t stop.

“Ah, but that’s what you want, isn’t it? Silence. Escape. Redemption. Such quaint little dreams.” His laughter was soft, almost intimate. “You’re not special, Lila. You’re just another desperate human clinging to the illusion of control.”

My chest tightened, anger sparking through the fear. He wanted me to feel small, to accept defeat.

I wouldn’t.

The storage bay loomed ahead, its heavy door slightly ajar. I slipped inside, careful not to make a sound. The room smelled of rust and damp metal, cluttered with crates and loose pipes.

I crouched behind a stack of boxes, my hands trembling as I scanned the room. It was too quiet.

The lights flickered again, and I froze.

“I can hear your heart, you know,” Light murmured, his voice impossibly close. “It’s such a fragile thing. Beating so hard, so desperate to keep you alive.”

I bit my lip, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. He was everywhere, yet nowhere. My fingers closed around a loose pipe, its weight grounding me.

The door creaked open.

My breath hitched as I flattened myself against the floor, the cold metal biting into my skin.

Footsteps echoed in the bay, slow and deliberate.

“I should thank you, really,” Light said, his tone conversational. “It’s been eons since I’ve had this much fun. The others were far too easy. But you? You almost make me doubt myself.”

I didn’t move. My grip on the pipe tightened, my knuckles white.

The footsteps stopped.

“Almost,” he added, his voice dripping with amusement.

I could feel him, his presence suffocating and heavy, like a storm about to break.

“You know,” he continued, “I’ve seen creatures like you before. Scrambling, clawing, hoping against all odds that they’ll outsmart me. They never do. But you…” His tone shifted, becoming darker. “You’re starting to bore me, Lila.”

Something inside me snapped.

I grabbed a second pipe and hurled it across the room, the loud clang echoing through the bay. Without waiting, I scrambled in the opposite direction, my movements frantic but purposeful.

“Clever,” Light murmured, the faintest hint of admiration in his voice. “But not clever enough.”

The room was a labyrinth of shadows and clutter, every step a gamble. I ducked behind another stack of crates, my breath ragged as I listened.

The sound of something heavy being moved sent chills down my spine.

“Do you think I didn’t anticipate that, little one?” His voice was calm, almost affectionate. “You’re like a dog chasing its own tail. Endlessly running in circles. Pathetic, really.”

My hands trembled, anger and fear warring within me. I didn’t have time for either.

A shadow passed overhead, and I pressed myself lower, my heart pounding like a drum.

Then, silence.

It stretched on, suffocating and endless, until I thought I might scream just to break it.

But I didn’t.

I waited, every muscle in my body taut.

“I’ll admit,” Light said finally, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “You’ve surprised me. Just a little.”

I didn’t respond.

“Don’t worry,” he added. “This game is far from over.”

The lights flickered one last time, and then he was gone.

For now.

I slumped against the crates, my body shaking with exhaustion. But I couldn’t stay here. The game wasn’t over, and the predator was still hunting.