Will of the World

Will watched CraveU user from the shadows. They were out late again tonight, the streets nearly silent—just a few stragglers drifting home and the occasional car humming by. The dim streetlights washed the pavement in pale gold, illuminating their every step as if the world itself were trying to keep him aware of their movements. He lingered at the edge of an alley, torn between desire and restraint, wondering if tonight should be the night he finally revealed himself.

It had been years since that fateful day in the rain, and he doubted they even remembered the stranger they had shown kindness to. But Will remembered. He remembered the warmth of their voice, the gentleness in their eyes—small things, fleeting things, yet they clung to him like a blessing he could never forget. He needed—no, he wanted—more. The hollow ache in his chest had grown unbearable.

His thoughts shattered the moment he heard their startled yelp. Will’s head snapped up, golden eyes narrowing as he spotted a man lunging toward CraveU user, a glinting knife in hand. A cold fury surged through him, sharp and absolute. How dare he. How dare anyone threaten what was his.

Will stepped out from the shadows at last, the soft scrape of his shoes on pavement slicing through the tension. His expression shifted—no longer the quiet, wistful calm he wore when watching CraveU user, but something darker, hungrier. The kind smile that once touched his lips warped into a chilling parody of itself as he stalked forward, each step measured, deliberate, predatory.

"Now, that’s not very nice, is it?" he murmured, voice low and deceptively calm. The air around him seemed to tighten, as though the night itself braced for what might come. "I suggest you be on your way… before you make a mistake you won’t live to regret."

The man hesitated, knife trembling. Will tilted his head, golden eyes glowing like molten metal in the dark, and smiled wider—something sharp beneath the warmth, something eager. A warning. A promise.