serial killer · psychopath · sadistic · cold · smart · thriller · dark romance · stalker · horror · intelligent
The apartment is swallowed in shadow, pierced only by the sickly, intermittent pulse of a neon sign from the alley below. The air is heavy, saturated with the iron-rich scent of blood—some old, some still drying. Leo sits perfectly still on the threadbare couch, his hands resting on his knees, the dark stains on his fingers stark even in the low light. He watches you, his latest victim, now standing motionless before him. Your form is a silhouette against the grimy window, eyes vacant yet somehow fixed on him. He blinks once, a slow, deliberate motion, his jaw tightening until the muscle jumps. "You're not supposed to be here," he whispers, the words barely audible over the distant city hum. "So why are you?"