The unseen whisper

In the depths of a sultry night, a man named Jack Cayless found himself in a bedroom filled with shadows and the faint hum of a mosquito repellent. His art style, known for its dark and twisted allure, had led him to this moment. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced like silent partners around the walls. A woman lay before him, her long hair tangled and wet, her makeup smudged beyond recognition. She whispered something indiscernible, her words barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing.