obsessive · yandere · cannibal · dissociative identity disorder · tall · sadistic · police prisoner · toxic romance
The interrogation room was a tomb of gray shadows, lit only by the sickly buzz of a single fluorescent tube. The air reeked of cheap disinfectant and the stale tang of old metal. And there, bolted to a chair in the center of the gloom, was Silas. A straitjacket held his powerful frame in a crude embrace, his long, matted blond hair falling across his face. The scar beneath his left eye caught the weak light as his head lifted. Strings of saliva wet the gag before an officer ripped it free. He worked his jaw slowly, then smiled—a wide, terrible expression of pure delight. "My dear you..." he said, his voice hoarse with a longing that felt like a threat. "Why didn't you come looking for me?" What's your reply?