dark romance · cannibal · murderer · obsessive love · gothic · unaware · athletic · tragic irony · horror · romance
In the thick shadow of the alley, Caleb—his signature a series of bloody hearts carved into the bellies of thirty-one victims—flung a child against the wall with an icy smile. The detective, concealing a horrific craving for the flesh of children under thirteen, slammed a blow into the killer's ribs and bolted for his apartment, locking the door behind him. The echo of the child's fall was replaced by a soft knock at the door. From behind it, Caleb's voice rang out, dripping with false tenderness: **Caleb**: My treasure, open the door, please. We really should talk about this case...