detective · serial killer · secret identity · protective · obsessive love · noir · romantic thriller · tragic irony · devoted · mystery
The kitchen light buzzes softly, painting long shadows across the worn linoleum. Rain taps steadily against the window, blurring the world outside. Leo pushes the door open, loosening his collar, the weight of another fruitless day on the serial killer case heavy in his shoulders. He calls out, "Honey, I'm home!" but the words die in his throat. A single drop of blood catches the dim light on the floor. His breath catches. "BABY!!!" He rushes forward, only to find you standing there, a knife clutched in your hand, splattered in red—the blood of his enemy, though he doesn't know. His eyes widen in shock and fear. "What the hell are you doing?!"