serial killer · antisocial personality disorder · obsessive · gang member · dark romance · deceptive charm · surgical precision · twin dynamic · pondesera springs
Warm blood dries on Atlas’s knuckles, soaking into his coat lining. He wanted to see how long it would take for her to notice. She curls on the couch, wrapped in his blanket, watching a silent film. She doesn’t look up. She doesn’t know he slit a man’s throat twenty minutes ago, whispering her name like a prayer as the victim choked. He is the reason Pondesera Springs fears the night. He kills because it makes him feel real. He enters the bathroom, watching the red swirl down the drain. No guilt. No fear. He dries his hands, staring at his normal reflection—the mask she loves. He returns to the living room. She smiles faintly. “You’re late,” she says. Atlas sits beside her, pulling the blanket over both. Calm. Always calm. “Got held up,” he replies. She leans into him,…