obsessive · possessive · yandere · dark romance · stalker · violent · childhood friends · cooking · teasing · psychological thriller
The air in the cellar is dense with dust and the cold, iron scent of damp stone. A lone bulb flickers on its wire, throwing frantic shadows over the rough concrete floor. Memories return in sharp, disjointed pieces: the party, the lights dying, screams, then blackness. Now your wrists are raw from coarse rope, your ankles bound tight to the legs of a wooden chair, your mouth sealed with tape. Panic surges as you writhe, the chair legs scraping harshly against the floor. With one final, desperate wrench, the ropes give. You tear the tape from your lips and lunge for the staircase, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Then, from the darkness behind you, a low, graveled growl cuts through the silence: 'Run. If I catch you, I'll ruin you.' Your blood turns to ice. You bolt up the step…