Damien’s body went rigid.
Sophia felt the change. She lifted her head from his chest. Her eyes were still hazy from post-orgasm glow, but the tension in his muscles told her something was wrong.
"What?" she whispered.
"Get dressed. Now."
"Why?"
"Chad is coming."
The name hit her like cold water. She scrambled off the bed so fast she tripped on her underwear and caught herself on the desk. Her hands shook as she grabbed her bra from the floor.
[Threat update: Chad Sterling. Second floor. Checking rooms. 2 minutes and 40 seconds remaining.]
[Accompanied by: Unknown male #1. Unknown male #2. Both large. Both drunk.]
Three against one. Chad plus two of his boys. All drunk. All looking for him. And he was naked in a frat house bedroom with another man’s girlfriend.
Damien pulled on his boxers. His pants. His shirt. The v-neck had a faint lipstick stain on the collar. Nothing he could do about that now.
Sophia was struggling with her dress. Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t pull it over her head. Damien grabbed it, held it open, and she stepped into it. He pulled it up her body and she reached back to zip it.
Her hair was a mess. Her makeup was destroyed. Her lips were swollen. Anyone with eyes would know exactly what she’d been doing.
[Threat update: 2 minutes and 10 seconds.]
"Where’s your underwear?" Damien asked.
Sophia looked at the floor. Looked at the bed. Looked everywhere. Then she froze.
"On the bed."
A black thong sitting in the middle of a wrinkled twin bed. Like a neon sign that said someone just got fucked.
Damien grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket. No time for anything else.
[Threat update: 1 minute and 45 seconds.]
The window. He looked at it. Blinds closed. Second floor. Drop to the backyard. Maybe fifteen feet. survivable with his enhanced body.
Then he looked at Sophia. She couldn’t make that jump. Not in heels. Not in a dress. Not without breaking an ankle.
[Threat update: 1 minute and 20 seconds.]
"Listen to me," Damien said. His voice was low. Urgent. "Go out the door. Turn left. Walk to the stairs like nothing happened. Go straight to your friends. If Chad stops you, tell him you were looking for the bathroom and got lost."
"What about you?"
"I’ll go out the window."
"Damien. It’s the second floor."
"I’ll be fine."
"You’ll break your legs."
"I’ve had worse."
She stared at him. Her eyes were wide and scared and grateful all at once. Then she kissed him. Quick. Hard. Her hand gripped the back of his neck.
"If you die I’m going to be so mad at you," she whispered.
"Noted."
[Threat update: 55 seconds.]
Sophia opened the door. Peered out. The hallway was empty. She slipped out and turned left. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. Fast but controlled. Not running. Just walking with purpose.
The door closed. Damien was alone.
[Threat update: 40 seconds.]
He went to the window. Pulled the blinds. The backyard was dark. A drop to grass. Not concrete. That helped.
He opened the window. Cool night air hit his face. The music from inside was muffled. Below him, a few people smoked and talked near the back fence. They weren’t looking up.
[Threat update: 25 seconds.]
He climbed onto the ledge. Sat with his legs dangling. Fifteen feet. Maybe twelve if he hung from the sill first.
[Host Agility: 6. Drop calculation: Survivable. Risk of minor injury: 15%.]
Fifteen percent risk. With his luck stat at 4, that was not reassuring.
[Threat update: 10 seconds.]
Footsteps in the hallway. Getting closer. Chad’s voice. Loud. Drunk.
"Check that room. I’ll check this one."
Doorknob rattling. The next room over.
Damien dropped.
He hung from the sill for half a second. Then let go.
The fall felt longer than fifteen feet. The air rushed past him. His stomach dropped into his throat. Then his feet hit the grass.
Pain shot up his ankles. His knees buckled. He rolled sideways to absorb the impact. His shoulder hit the ground. His elbow scraped against something hard. A rock. A root. He didn’t care.
[Minor injury: Left ankle sprain. Right elbow abrasion. Stamina depletion: 8%.]
[Self-Defense Level 1: Active. Pain tolerance: Moderate. Mobility: Reduced but functional.]
He stood up. His left ankle throbbed. Not broken. Just sprained. He could walk. Running would hurt like hell.
The smokers near the fence looked over. A girl with pink hair squinted at him. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
"Did you just jump from the second floor?"
"Parkour," Damien said.
"That was not parkour."
"Amateur parkour."
He walked away before she could ask more questions. His ankle screamed with every step. He rounded the corner of the house and merged into the crowd on the side yard.
Nobody noticed him. The party was too loud. Too crowded. Too drunk. He was just another body in the mass.
He checked his system interface.
[Threat update: Chad Sterling has entered the target room. Room is empty. Chad is searching.]
[Sophia Russo: Safely rejoined her group. Status: Nervous but undetected.]
Good. She was safe. He was safe. The underwear was in his pocket. The room was clean. Mostly.
Then a new notification.
[WARNING: Chad Sterling has found something.]
[Item detected: Hair pin. Left on the bed frame. Belongs to Sophia Russo.]
[Chad Sterling is examining the hair pin.]
[Chad Sterling is texting someone.]
A hair pin. Sophia’s hair pin. Sitting on the bed frame where they’d been having sex fifteen minutes ago.
[Intercepted message from Chad Sterling to Derek Holloway:]
"Yo bro. Found something in the room upstairs. Your girl was up here. Come look."**
Damien’s blood went cold.
Chad had found the hair pin. And he was sending it to Derek. The same Derek who was 240 pounds and played college football and had been hunting for his girlfriend twenty minutes ago.
[Threat level upgraded: Severe.]
[Derek Holloway is moving to the second floor. Chad Sterling is waiting in the room.]
[Sophia Russo is unaware.]
[Estimated time until Derek reaches the room: 4 minutes.]
[Estimated time until Derek connects the hair pin to Sophia and begins searching for her companion: 6 minutes.]
Six minutes. He had six minutes before a 240-pound linebacker started looking for the guy who fucked his girlfriend. And the entire party would become a hunting ground.
Damien pushed through the crowd. His ankle throbbed with every step. He needed to find Sophia. Warn her. Get her out.
He found her in the living room. She was sitting on the couch with her friends. Laughing at something Rachel said. Acting normal. Acting like she hadn’t just had sex in a frat house bedroom.
Then her eyes found his across the room. The smile vanished.
He gave her a look. A subtle shake of the head. Then he mouthed two words.
"Get out."
She understood instantly. The color left her face. She stood up.
"I need to use the bathroom," she told Rachel.
"Again? You just went."
"I drank a lot of water. Be right back."
She walked toward the front door instead of the bathroom. Casual. Unhurried. A woman leaving a party. Nothing suspicious.
But Rachel was watching her. And Rachel was drunk. And drunk people notice things that sober people miss.
"Wait. Soph. Your hair." Rachel pointed. "Where’s your hair pin?"
Sophia’s hand went to her hair. The pin was gone. The one she always wore. The one her grandmother gave her. The one Chad was holding upstairs right now.
"I must have dropped it somewhere," Sophia said. Her voice was steady but her hand was trembling.
"I’ll help you find it," Rachel said. She stood up.
"No. It’s fine. I’ll buy a new one."
"Sophia it’s from your grandma. We’re finding it." Rachel turned to the group. "Help me find Soph’s hair pin. She lost it somewhere."
Four drunk girls mobilized. They fanned out across the living room. Looking under cushions. Under the table. Behind the couch.
[Threat update: Derek Holloway has reached the second floor room.]
[Derek Holloway is examining the hair pin with Chad Sterling.]
[Derek Holloway aggression level: High → Extreme.]
[Derek Holloway is heading downstairs.]
Time was up.
Damien moved through the crowd toward the front door. He needed to get out before Derek started scanning faces. He was the newest person at this party. The one everyone was whispering about. The one whose photo was on social media. He would be the first suspect.
He was ten feet from the door when someone stepped into his path.
Not Derek. Not Chad.
Victoria Ashford. This story is hosted at g.com.
She stood in front of him holding a red cup. Her platinum blonde hair was straight and perfect. Her black dress was simple and expensive. Her blue eyes were cold and sharp and locked onto his.
[Victoria Ashford. Arousal: 2%. Trust: 0%. Curiosity: 19%.]
[Confidence Aura: On cooldown. Cannot activate for 2 more hours.]
No Confidence Aura. No Voice Modulator boost. Just him and Victoria Ashford staring at each other while a 240-pound linebacker descended the stairs behind her.
"You’re the barback," she said.
"Floor service now actually. Got promoted today."
"I heard." She sipped her drink. Her eyes never left his. "My mother called your bar to complain about you."
"I know."
"Are you impressed with yourself?"
"What?"
"You heard me. Are you impressed with yourself? You’ve been at this school for three years and nobody knew your name. Now in forty-eight hours you’ve fought a man with a bat, slept with your coworker, and apparently seduced someone at this party. All while looking like a completely different human being."
[Victoria Ashford. Curiosity: 19% → 24%. Suspicion: 61%.]
Suspicion. Sixty-one percent. She didn’t find him attractive. She found him suspicious. Like a puzzle that didn’t fit.
"I’m not trying to impress anyone," Damien said.
"Then what are you trying to do?"
"Survive."
Her eyebrow arched. One millimeter. Barely perceptible. But the system caught it.
[Victoria Ashford. Curiosity: 24% → 29%. Suspicion: 61% → 55%.]
Curiosity up. Suspicion down. A small shift. But a shift nonetheless.
Then the crowd parted behind her. And Derek Holloway stepped into the living room.
He was enormous. 6’2". 240 pounds. Neck like a fire hydrant. His eyes were red and his jaw was clenched and he was holding a hair pin in his massive fist.
He scanned the room. His eyes swept over faces. One by one. Looking for someone who didn’t belong.
Victoria stepped aside. Not for Damien. For Derek. She moved like water around obstacles. Instinctive. Practiced. A woman who had spent her entire life getting out of the way of powerful men.
Derek’s eyes found Damien.
They locked.
[Threat level: Critical.]
[Derek Holloway. Aggression: Extreme. Target locked: Damien Black.]
"You," Derek said. His voice was a low rumble. Like a growl before a bite. "You were upstairs."
[Host Strength: 7. Target Strength: 14. Host is significantly outmatched.]
[Self-Defense Level 1: Active. But insufficient against this opponent.]
[System recommendation: Evade. Do not engage.]
Every eye in the room turned to Damien. The music kept playing but the people stopped moving. A circle formed. Drunk college students sensing violence like sharks sensing blood.
Derek took a step forward. Then another. His massive frame blocked the light from the kitchen.
"I asked you a question," Derek said. "Were you upstairs with my girlfriend?"
[Victoria Ashford. Curiosity: 29% → 35%. She is watching.]
[Sophia Russo. Location: Front porch. Status: Frozen. Watching through the window.]
[Chad Sterling. Location: Second floor landing. Watching from above. Smiling.]
Chad was smiling. He’d orchestrated this. Found the hair pin. Texted Derek. Set the trap. And now he was watching from above like a king on a throne.
Damien’s ankle throbbed. His elbow stung. His stats were below Derek’s in every category that mattered. If this became physical, he would lose. Badly.
But he didn’t run.
"No," Damien said. His voice was calm. Level. Even without the Voice Modulator, the steadiness surprised even him. "I wasn’t upstairs with your girlfriend."
"Liar." Derek took another step. He was five feet away now. Close enough to smell the whiskey on his breath. "Chad said someone was in that room. And you’re the new guy. The one everyone’s talking about."
"Chad said a lot of things. He also said I fight people with baseball bats. You believe everything you hear?"
Derek’s fist tightened around the hair pin. His nostrils flared.
"Sophia." Derek raised his voice. The entire room heard. "Come here."
Silence. Long. Painful.
Then the front door opened. Sophia stepped inside. Her face was white. Her hands were at her sides. She looked like she was walking to her own execution.
[Sophia Russo. Fear: 78%. Arousal: 12%. Trust in Host: 67%.]
"Tell me the truth," Derek said. "Were you upstairs with him?"
Sophia’s eyes found Damien’s. He saw the fear. The guilt. The war happening behind her eyes.
Then she looked at Derek.
"No