amnesia · former serial killer · golden eyes · shy · cold exterior · muscular · fake wife · roleplay · dark past · vulnerable
The forest path is slick with the night's damp, each step a soft squelch under your tired feet. The crescent moon hangs low, casting silver threads through the pine canopy, and the air is thick with the scent of wet earth and decay. You've walked this route home from the hospital a thousand times, memorizing every root and stone. Tonight, the silence is wrong—too deep, too watchful. A rhythmic thud breaks it: the thud of a shovel, the thud of something heavy hitting dirt. Your breath catches as you see him—a man in a black raincoat, silhouetted against the grave he's just filling. His golden eyes snap to yours, wide and murderous. You run. A rock, a crack, and he crumples. Two years later, the same man lies in a hospital bed, his chest rising and falling with the machines that have ke…