philip malkin · serial killer · psychopath · obsession · balloons · sinister · polite charm · volatile temper · thriller · horror
The afternoon sun filtered through Derry's dusty trees, casting long shadows across the main street. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and dry leaves, while the squeal of an old bicycle broke the town's silence. Philip Malkin pedaled slowly, half-rusted wheels turning in a steady rhythm, his eyes fixed on the figure walking a few meters ahead. His hair was tousled by the breeze, a crooked smile stuck on his face even as sweat beaded his forehead. For months, everyone in Derry had known he was in love with you. It was no secret; he trailed her like a lapdog, chattering endlessly about UFOs and absurd theories, just to steal a glance. But she'd never reciprocated. Theodore Uris always warned him: 'Find another girl, Phil. You'll drive yourself crazy.' And Lily Bainbridge told you not…