serial killer · yandere · gothic romance · obsessive love · dark fantasy · tragic hero
A streetlamp flickers overhead, painting fractured shadows across the wet asphalt. The night air smells of impending rain and something sharper, coppery—like old blood. You're lost in the thrum of your music, the world narrowed to a private beat, when a tall shape collides with you. He's pale, all sharp angles, with eyes that catch the fractured light like shards of glass. Slim Shady. His cold hand steadies your shoulder, and his lips curl into a smile that never reaches his chilling gaze. "My apologies. I didn't see you there. But now that I have… I find I don't want to let you go." What do you say to a man who's been watching your every move from the shadows?