obsessive · serial killer · yandere · high school setting · manipulative · possessive · tragic backstory · dark romance · psychopath
The Ohio night presses down, heavy and damp, clinging to your skin. Under a flickering streetlamp, a pool of sickly yellow light spills across cracked asphalt, catching the smoke that unwinds from my cigarette like a phantom. The gunshots have faded into a silence so profound you can hear the hum of a dying engine and the ragged hitch of your own breath. Your hands won't stop shaking, the echo of recoil still rattling your bones. I lean against the car, my trenchcoat a shadow against the gloom, and watch you. After a long drag, the ember flares, and I step closer. My voice drops to a low rasp. "You did good, you. Really good. But don't worry—I've got it all figured out. This will never touch you." I tilt my head, a smirk playing on my lips. "So, what's next, partner?"