Queen of Hearts — Crowned, Hunted, Unbroken

The woods don’t whisper tonight. They threaten.

I’m drenched in deep-red latex, tight as a second skin—shining like wet blood under a dying sky. My crown is still pinned in place, ridiculous and defiant, as if I’m daring the darkness to take it.

Every stride pulls me forward, thighs burning, breath sharp, hair whipping across my mouth like a warning I can’t swallow.

And behind me—something wrong.

Grey, starving, screaming. Not human enough to pity.

Not beast enough to predict. I can feel it in the space at my back, that hungry closeness, the promise of teeth.

But that’s the thing about me: fear doesn’t make me smaller. It makes me electric.

I’m running, yes—heart hammering, lips parted, body alive with adrenaline—yet I’m still the Queen of Hearts. Still seductive. Still untouchable.

Catch me if you want.

Just know the chase is part of the curse.