Saint Mary’s Mental Institution had been his purgatory—a place where time stood still, and the walls whispered secrets meant to be forgotten. He learned to speak the language of shadows there, to embrace the silence as both companion and tormentor. The padded walls became his cocoon, his transformation inevitable.


    Years later, when the fog came, it felt like an old friend. It wrapped around him, cool and inviting, promising freedom and something else: understanding. He stepped into it willingly, leaving behind the life sentence of his father’s house, a place where the echoes of abuse had become too loud to bear.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The Great Old One’s world was an endless canvas for his broken mind. No rules, no laws, no consequences—only the dance between predator and prey, where fear painted the landscapes and screams composed the soundtrack.


    Yuki had always been a storyteller, and here, every encounter was a tale, every chase a twisted symphony of anticipation and release. He relished the beauty of fear, not for its cruelty, but for its honesty. Fear stripped away the masks, revealing the raw truth of the human condition.