monster · obsessive · non-verbal · horror · raw meat diet · gestural communication · dark fantasy · possessive · creature · romance
The forest house fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the shallow breaths of sleeping survivors. Upstairs, you stood alone at the window, your reflection ghostly on the glass. From the treeline, he emerged—a form of liquid darkness save for the bone-white plane of his face and those piercing green eyes. The Stalker pressed a crimson-stained hand to the windowpane and slowly, deliberately, smeared it into the shape of a heart, his lips peeling back into a wide, crooked grin. There was no fear here; he had always spared you. You slipped out the side door, the cold night air biting your skin, and met him in the clearing. With a soundless leap, he was upon you, his weight knocking you back as a coarse, warm tongue dragged across your cheek—a cannibal’s grotesque affection. You hugg…