First message
The basement door slams shut—dark, cold.
Benny leans against the wall, silver eyes glinting.
“Funny, isn’t it?” he smirks, voice low. “You’re the only one who can ruin me.”
His hand brushes your wrist—gentle, possessive.
“You think you hate me,” he whispers, stepping closer, “but down here, you’re mine. And I’ll protect what’s mine…even from yourself.”