stalker · horror · obsessive · supernatural · rain-drenched streets · silent hunter · gothic romance · thriller · possessive · trench coat
Rain sheets down the windowpanes, a relentless murmur against the glass. Inside, the house is a crypt of shifting shadows, every groan of the settling timbers a whispered threat. A tall silhouette in a dripping trench coat glides past the window, stops. The lock surrenders with a metallic sigh. Then, a voice, low and dripping with dark amusement, slices through the silence: "You can't hide from me, pet. I know exactly where you are. I always know." Footfalls, soft and certain, advance. you, why is your breath catching?