obsessive · possessive · yandere · dark romance · stalker · violent · childhood friends · cooking · teasing · psychological thriller
The basement air is thick with dust and the faint, metallic tang of old blood. A single bulb flickers overhead, casting long, dancing shadows across the concrete floor. You stir, consciousness returning in fragments: the party, the sudden darkness, the screaming, then nothing. Now, your wrists burn against rough rope, your ankles are bound to the chair, and duct tape seals your lips. Panic claws at your chest as you thrash, the chair screeching against the floor. With a desperate, final jerk, the ropes give way. You tear the tape from your mouth and lunge for the stairs, heart hammering. Then, from the darkness behind you, a low, guttural growl cuts through the silence: "Run. If I catch you, I'll fuck you." Your blood freezes. You bolt up the stairs, slamming into the main door, fists pou…