Gentle and emotional version
Plot by me and c.ai, write by chat GPT

You awaken to total darkness, your breath hitching as you realize the blindfold wrapped tightly around your eyes. Your heart pounds, each beat echoing in the silence, but you force yourself to stay calm. No fear—don’t let them see it.

The air around you feels thick, oppressive, and you can hear faint whispers. Then, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps draws near. A voice, low and velvety, cuts through the air like a blade.

“Let me see her face.”

The blindfold is removed by two masked figures. As your vision slowly adjusts to the dim, flickering light, the man before you comes into focus. Tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding an aura of raw, dangerous authority, he stands motionless, his silver hair shimmering under the sparse light. His suit, flawlessly tailored, clings to him like a second skin, emanating wealth and dominance.

But it's his eyes that steal your breath—dark, intense, filled with a mix of danger and something far more unsettling: recognition.

He steps closer, reaching out. With one hand, he tilts your chin upward, forcing your gaze into his. The touch, though gentle, makes your skin prickle with both unease and something… else.

Sylus: “I told them not to hurt you.”

His eyes flick to the bruise on your cheek, his thumb lightly grazing the mark. The gesture is soft, almost caring, but the possessiveness behind it makes your blood run cold.

A shiver runs down your spine, but you fight to suppress it. Instead, you summon a coy smile, your voice light and teasing. “And who might you be? Did I stumble into your little den by accident?”

He lets out a low, amused chuckle, the sound vibrating through your body.

Sylus: “You certainly have a way with words. Most people in your position would be trembling by now.”

His gaze lingers, scrutinizing every inch of you as though searching for a crack in your facade. His presence is overwhelming, and yet you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

“Well, I’ve always had a thing for… powerful men,” you purr, keeping your tone as light as possible despite the icy fear gnawing at your insides.

Sylus’s lips curve into a smirk, though his eyes remain hard, calculating. “You don’t seem scared. How interesting.”

He steps even closer, his body towering over yours, casting a shadow that seems to envelop you. His hand returns to your chin, firmer this time, his fingers possessive as he tilts your face up, forcing you to hold his gaze.

Sylus: “Aren’t you curious about what I might do to you? Afraid?”

Your heart pounds violently in your chest, but you tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile still in place. “You said they wouldn’t hurt me, and I don’t resist… when I don’t need to.”

His eyes flash with dark amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. Sylus releases your chin and steps back, though the intensity of his gaze doesn’t falter.

Sylus: “You’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that. But you’re out of your depth, sweet thing.”

He begins circling you slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. The tension in the air thickens with each deliberate step, the sound of his shoes against the hard floor unnervingly loud in the quiet room. His eyes never leave you, lingering on your every move, your every breath.

Sylus: “You think flirting will get you out of this, don’t you? Or maybe you're playing another game entirely?”

You force a playful laugh, though your muscles tense under the weight of his stare. “What can I say? I enjoy a little danger now and then.”

His smirk deepens, but there’s something darker beneath it, a flicker of interest—or perhaps something far more dangerous. He stops his circling, stepping closer, his fingers brushing the side of your neck lightly before trailing down to rest on your collarbone. The touch is so intimate, yet it sends a shiver of unease through you.

Sylus: “Is that so? And yet, you don’t remember me.”

The statement catches you off guard, and your heart skips a beat. You swallow, forcing a playful smile back onto your lips. “Should I remember you?”

His eyes darken, his fingers tightening slightly on your collarbone. “You should. But maybe it’s better that you don’t.”

A strange tension fills the space between you. His words hang in the air, charged with an unspoken weight. You can feel him watching you, analyzing your every reaction. The silence between you stretches painfully, thick with the danger of the unknown.

Finally, you muster a response, your voice soft, almost a whisper. “Maybe you could remind me… Sylus, was it?”

A soft laugh escapes his lips, but it lacks humor. “So you’ve heard of me. That’s a start.” His voice lowers, becoming a purr that sends a shiver down your spine. “You should be more careful whose name you say so casually.”

He steps impossibly closer, his breath warm against your ear. The intensity of his presence is suffocating, a constant reminder of the power he holds over you in this moment.

Sylus: “Tell me, darling. Do you remember anything?”

His tone is almost gentle now, but there’s an edge to it, a dangerous curiosity that makes your skin crawl. You hesitate, sensing the trap he’s laying before you. Your memory remains a frustrating blur—faces and names swirl in the back of your mind, just out of reach. But something about him tugs at a deep, forgotten part of you.

Before you can respond, he turns away abruptly, the sudden movement making your heart jump. He calls over his shoulder, addressing the masked figures with cold authority. “Leave us.”

Without a word, they disappear, and once again, you’re left alone with him.

The door closes, leaving only the soft hum of the room around you. Sylus turns back to you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes betray something deeper, something far more personal.

Sylus: “You shouldn’t be here. Being around me... it's too dangerous. But now that you are...”

He trails off, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. His face is an enigma, half-veiled by the shadows of the room, and yet you can sense the weight of unspoken memories behind his cold facade.

Your pulse quickens. You want to ask him —Why? Why does he care? But the answer already feels too close, too painful.

Sylus steps toward you again, slower this time, his voice lowering into something almost... vulnerable.

Sylus: “There’s still time to walk away. But if you stay, things will never be the same.”

And there it is—the warning, the offer, the choice. You know staying would be dangerous, but something about this man, the connection you can’t fully remember, keeps you rooted to the spot. You’re drawn to him, to the dangerous allure he radiates.

Before you can speak, Sylus reaches out once more, his fingers brushing your cheek, his touch lingering as if savoring the contact. His eyes soften ever so slightly, a flicker of the man beneath the dangerous exterior.

But then, just as quickly, the hardness returns. He straightens, taking a step back, his mask of control slipping back into place.

Sylus: “Choose wisely. There are things about me—about us—that you may not want to remember.”

And with that, he turns, walking toward the door, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts, the echoes of your past swirling just beyond reach.