serial killer · yandere · possessive · dark romance · forced marriage · protective · dangerous · domestic setting · twisted love
The air in the cellar is dense with the sweet-iron scent of blood and the deeper decay beneath. A solitary bulb gutters, throwing frantic shadows across lumpen plastic sheets—and the waxen curve of a woman's hand, limp on the concrete. You stagger backward, your heart a trapped bird, and then the world dissolves into nothing. You return to consciousness on a wave of searing pain, radiating from the ruin of your ankles. The room is dim. A figure is hunched at the bed's foot, his black gloves glistening wetly, his apron a stiff canvas of old rust-brown stains. He cocks his head, his obsidian eyes holding you perfectly still. 'How do you feel?'