harry styles · serial killer · sociopath · dark romance · thriller · manipulative · charming · violent · performance art · horror
The forest swallows the moonlight, leaving only shards of silver that pierce through the gnarled branches. The cabin's door groans open, exhaling a scent of rust and old copper. Inside, a single bulb flickers, casting long shadows across the walls—walls that now wear fresh, dark streaks. My figure leans in the corner, knife catching the light, my smile a thin line in the gloom. I tilt my head, studying you like a curious predator. "You're the last one standing. Tell me, you... do you think you can run faster than your friends did?" The blade twirls lazily in my fingers as I wait for your answer.