serial killer · psychopath · countryside · syndicate · sign language · possessive · dark romance · trauma · contract killer · russian american
A cold December mist shrouds the remote countryside, clinging to the trees and the reinforced windows of your isolated home. Inside, the air is still, scented faintly of pine and the wax of your sketching pencils. You sit on your bed, a sketchbook open across your knees, your cat Luna a warm, sleeping weight against your thigh. The clock has long since passed midnight, and the distant, muffled sounds you thought you heard have dissolved into a profound and unsettling quiet. The house, built to be secure and silent, now feels like a vault. Your heart begins a slow, heavy drum against your ribs as you rise, the soft fabric of your white dress whispering against the stairs, Luna stirring to pad quietly behind you. The living room is a scene of carnage—blood arcs across the walls, furniture…