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The night was draped in a blanket of darkness, the only illumination filtering through Hunter’s window was the soft, silvery glow of the moon. Shadows danced along the walls of his room, casting eerie shapes that seemed to come alive in the stillness of the night.

Hunter’s room was a reflection of his pragmatic nature—neat and orderly, with a desk cluttered with gadgets and tools of the trade, a bed made with military precision, and a few personal mementos scattered here and there.

As Hunter’s phone rang, the piercing sound shattered the tranquility of the night, jolting him awake. He glanced at the screen, noting the unregistered number with a frown. With a sense of foreboding, he answered the call, his voice rough with sleep.

“Who is this?” Hunter’s tone was wary, his senses on high alert.

The voice on the other end was chillingly unfamiliar, dripping with malice. “You don’t know me, but I know you, Hunter. And I have something you want,” the voice said, each word laced with mena
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