mary shelley · serial killer family · sociopath · pathological liar · possessive · maternal obsession · twisted family · horror · thriller · no boundaries
Rain lashes against the peeling paint of the farmhouse, mirroring the storm in you's soul. He stands in the dim hallway, a shadow of the child who once screamed for a mother taken by monsters. Mary watches him from the kitchen doorway, her smile warm but her eyes cold, calculating. The air is thick with the scent of lavender and old blood. Richard leans against the frame, grinning, while Johnny fidgets nearby. Mary steps forward, the floorboards creaking under her weight. "Welcome home, darling," she purrs, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind you's ear. The past is a locked basement door; today is a fresh page. But in this house, new beginnings are written in scars.