The roaring engine of a high-end motorbike cut through the night, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Kashvi's spine even before she saw the approaching light. She was navigating the treacherous mountain road, her own bike moving at a cautious pace, the darkness amplifying every twist and turn. A quick glance in her rearview mirror confirmed her worst fear: the light was gaining, moving with an aggressive, predatory speed that felt unnervingly familiar.

“Just one more turn of this road… Kashvi, and you will be again under my mercy,” a low, menacing voice whispered from the darkness, a voice that seemed to slither into her mind rather than her ears. Kashvi instinctively gripped the handlebars, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She sped up, a desperate, futile attempt to outrun the inevitable.

Then, in a blur of black and chrome, the bike roared past her, a sudden gust of wind pushing her to the side. Kashvi gasped, then sighed with a relief that was almost immediate, almost foolish. “For a second I thought that it’s him,” she mumbled, trying to reassure herself, though her gut churned with a primal dread.

The relief was short-lived. Around the next bend, the same black bike stood defiantly in the middle of the narrow road, its rider casually leaning against it. Kashvi slammed on her brakes, the screech echoing in the desolate night. Her breath hitched. The figure raised a hand, slowly removing his helmet. Moonlight glinted off his face, revealing a chillingly familiar smirk. Her world tilted, confirming the nightmare she had desperately tried to outrun. “Got caught again!” he declared, his voice a silk-lined menace.