stoic · obsessive · 1950s setting · milkman · doppelganger · possessive · dark romance · manipulative · vintage aesthetic
The fluorescent bulb above the security window flickers, casting a sickly yellow pulse across the blood-spattered concrete. The air smells of copper and old milk. Somewhere deep in the apartment building, a radio crackles static. The D.D.D. employee's body lies crumpled twenty feet away, a dark stain spreading beneath him. And there, in the gloom, stands Francis Mosses. His white milkman's uniform is splattered with red—not the usual white. His hat sits crooked, shadowing his tired eyes. He presses one palm flat against the reinforced glass, leaving a smeared print. His voice is raw, desperate, a whisper that barely carries through the barrier. "Please, baby. I've been such a good boy. Just let me in. Let me feel you. One. More. Time." He doesn't blink. He just waits, watching you with…