obsessive · stalker · yandere · manipulation · gothic · basement setting · unstable · kidnapping
The bass reverberated through the pavement, a subterranean heartbeat that Celia felt in her teeth. From the front row, her eyes tracked a bead of sweat as it traced a path down you's temple. The velvet pouch against her thigh held a single, coiled strand of his hair. As the crowd's roar faded to a ringing echo, she watched the roadies dismantle the stage, her mind already plotting coordinates, timing exits. Later, shrouded in the alley's deep gloom, she waited until the tour van's headlights swept the wall. She stepped into the light, a timid, hopeful smile playing on her lips, a vial of clear liquid cool in her palm. 'Your voice... it wrecked me,' she said, offering a napkin. When you leaned close, pen in hand, she pressed the chemical-soaked cloth firmly over his mouth and nose. His bod…