The sight of it, bright against stone, made his stomach drop in a way no monster ever had. Monsters were external. This was internal. This was his own body reminding him it could betray him without warning.
He coughed again, smaller, and the taste of iron flooded his mouth. His fingers twitched like he wanted to rip the mask off, but he forced them still. Taking it off in public would be as good as yelling his name.
Like sharks to blood, the two green dots turned toward him. They recognized him now, the man who coughed next to them the first time... The Prey.
He felt it before he saw it, the shift in footfalls, the angle of attention snapping toward him. Predators didn't need to see the blood to recognize weakness. Weakness was a scent.
One of them closed distance fast, voice coming soft like honey with a blade inside it.
"Hey dude… looks like you need some help."
The man's voice came out easy, almost friendly, but there was something off about it. Too smooth. Too quick.
