The air was cold. Silent.
Even the wind had stopped moving.
Bunnyman lay frozen, eyes wide.
The shadows—they surrounded him, shifting like liquid nightmares. Twisted arms. Slithering tendrils. Dozens of glowing eyes blinking from the darkness.
He'd fought thugs, monsters in human skin, and maniacs like Mr. Crow…
But this?
This was something else.
He stumbled back, heart pounding. "What… what are you?"
The shadows didn't speak. They only stared.
Bunnyman closed his eyes, breathing hard.
"Get a grip. They're not real. Just your mind playing tricks. It's fear. You've felt worse. You've survived worse."
He opened his eyes and took a shaky step forward.
"These aren't real," he muttered. "I'm just scared. That's all."
But the moment he moved—
Something grabbed his leg.
Then another. And another.
The shadows held him. Pulled him.
His eyes widened.
"What… no… this can't be…"
From across the street, Mr. Crow laughed.
"Oh... you really thought this was all in your head?"
The laughter echoed as Mr. Crow stepped forward, his bloodied face smiling like a devil.
"You should've known, boy… That I have a gift to make shadows alive."
He gestured to the darkness around them.
Bunnyman struggled. "Let… me… go!"
But the shadows were strong. Real. Cold as death.
He reached into his pocket—his lighter.
Click.
Fire.
The flame danced.
And the shadows screamed.
They recoiled like vampires under sunlight, slithering backward into corners and drains.
Bunnyman broke free, gasping.
He waved the flame like a sword. "Back! Stay back!"
But just as hope sparked…
The flame flickered.
Then died.
Bunnyman looked at the lighter.
Clicked it again.
Nothing.
A chill ran down his spine.
"No… no, no… I forgot to refill…"
All around him, the shadows began to laugh. High-pitched. Inhuman.
Mr. Crow grinned from the darkness.
"Looks like the hero's flame is out."