In the narrow, deserted alleyway, the damp scent of old earth seeped into his nostrils, clinging to his throat like smoke that was hard to exhale.
The alleyway, wedged tightly between the tall, silent buildings, was utterly unwelcoming. It was illuminated only by a gloomy, flickering light—like a candle flame about to die—that hung suspended in the thick air, which seemed to tremble with every step he took on the cold ground.
He kept running, non-stop, his eyes occasionally glancing behind him, as if afraid that something—or someone—was lurking in the shadows clinging to the faded walls.
"Please… stop chasing me."
The cry was a stuttered, ragged sound, dissolving between his desperate gasps and the merciless rhythm of his heart pounding against his ribs.
His chapped, pale, and dry lips trembled as he tried to form the word, as if the phrase itself was nothing more than a fragile prayer thrown into a dark abyss—a request that might never be heard, never answered.
"Someone, please, help me…"
He cast a fleeting glance behind him, his vision blurred by tears that had yet to fall.
His ears strained, desperately trying to catch every small sound, every whisper that might accidentally escape the cracks in the walls. He waited—waiting for any other sound, any noise that wasn't the echo of his own frantic footsteps, a sign that the outside world still existed, still lived, and still cared.
Yet the only answer that came was the sound of rapid footsteps—their rhythm striking the alley like a metallic hammer slamming against hot iron—jolting his ears until the ringing crawled into his veins, sending his heart leaping uncontrollably.
"Hey, Human!"
A moment later, the demand cracked:
"Stop right now, or I'll make you regret it!"
That person—the relentless pursuer—shouted the words with deafening force. The voice was sharp, penetrating every small space within the narrow alleyway.
The vibration of that voice traveled from his ears down to his neck, hitting his chest with a cold force that made the color drain even further from his face.
His sweat poured relentlessly, dripping from his temples and plastering the strands of his black hair against his pale skin. He looked like a man caught in a storm, completely lost yet forced to keep moving.
"You have to take responsibility, Human!"
"How can you just run off without feeling guilty after making my ears bleed?!"
"Aren't you a RUN?! You're my fan, aren't you?!!"
"Get back here right now, and I'll sign every album you brought today!"
The playful tone from that person actually pierced him deeper, fueling a growing panic that choked every gasp, making his own footsteps falter and rush anxiously.
He could almost feel the pursuer's breath on his neck; the distance must have been terrifyingly close, enough to send a chill down his spine.
His fear spilled over, churning inside him like rainwater trapped in a drain—no way out, only a relentless, suffocating torment that was nearing its peak.
"I wish this was only a dream! I wish I would wake up right now... and when I do, I'll never believe anything that is happening!"
"There's no way he's the cat whose body I just stomped on, let alone that he's my bias in CATYOURS!"
"And what the hell is that face?! Why did it turn so terrifying?!"
He searched frantically for an opening, his eyes darting restlessly like a small bird trapped between the bars of a cage.
Every corner of the alley was scrutinized in a single blink—the dim light, the shifting shadows, the uneven ground—searching for the thin line where safety might be hiding.
And finally, at the end of the dark alley, he saw light—a bright opening that burst forth softly, like a hope that had been crushed, yet still refused to fully extinguish.
His eyes widened, staring with a mixture of wonder and relief, as if his exhausted body had suddenly found a reason to persevere, even though every muscle demanded a halt. A slow smile appeared on his face, though it was composed of lips still trembling violently—a tremor he couldn't entirely control, even as the terror began to subside, little by little.
"Finally... I can finally get out of this alleyway, and when I do, I'm going to tell my friends that the CATYOURS they know aren't what they worship like gods! They are—"
But his murmur came to an abrupt stop.
Just as his foot was about to step outside, his body was yanked violently backward—a sudden, powerful jerk that almost made him lose complete control of himself.
Both of his eyes widened, as if the sky had just collapsed directly onto his head.
His back slammed against the stone wall with a heavy thud, the echo reverberating through the narrow alley, and his body slowly slumped onto the wet ground pooled with rainwater.
Cold and filthy, the puddle reflected his pale face like a worn-out cloth that had lost all its color, making him feel fragile, stranded between the encompassing darkness and dampness.
"Ouch..."
A whimper escaped his lips like a fragment of a note losing its anchor—faint, hoarse, fragile—as if scraped out from the gaps of tangled thread by a passing wind. The sound lasted only a moment, vanishing before it could leave a mark.
His hand lifted, sweeping the back of his head, the point that seemed to be the epicenter of a swirling pain. From there, a damp, sticky sensation flowed, like the lingering drops that had just been creeping down.
His fingers returned to face him.
The moment his eyes caught the color staining his skin, his pupils dilated wide, as if a faint flash of lightning had struck him suddenly, piercing his entire consciousness.
His body jolted,
"Is this... is this blood?"
His tone was hesitant, like someone suspended between dreaming and waking, not fully present, not entirely gone.
The color on his fingers only glowed faintly beneath the dim, flickering light—a lamp seemingly drained of energy, casting a beam that was almost swept away by the darkness.
He brought his hand closer to his face, hoping to unveil the truth from the haze clouding his vision.
But the throbbing in his head exerted another wave—vibrating, forcing his entire consciousness to sway, causing his sight to fade like ink dragged by a rapid current, mixing and becoming indistinguishable.
His body lost balance, feeling as if the ground beneath him wanted to be pulled away, yet he remained suspended, caught between falling and holding on.
At that very moment, a massive shadow loomed before him.