Love?

Kiss you goodnight

The café was dark and nearly empty, save for the low hum of voices and the soft clink of silverware against porcelain. She sat across from me, a woman with hollow eyes and fingers that trembled around her coffee cup. There was something frayed about her, as though the darkness she carried was barely contained.

“She was just a girl,” she began, her voice barely more than a whisper. “A girl with a smile so sweet, it could disarm you. Her name was Naomi, and she had this way about her, you know? She seemed harmless, like she couldn’t hurt a fly. But she had this… darkness that clung to her like a shadow.”

I felt a chill crawl up my spine. There was something in her voice that made me lean in closer, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what she’d say next.

“Naomi’s first love was Amber,” she continued, her voice tinged with a strange kind of sorrow. “Amber was soft and trusting, the kind of girl who loved with her whole heart. Naomi took her on quiet dates, whispered promises into her ear. But Amber started seeing something different in her, something cold and dangerous, and it scared her. Amber tried to pull away, but Naomi wasn’t the kind to let go easily.”

Her lips twisted in a grim smile. “One night, Amber didn’t come home. They found her car down an embankment, her body crumpled inside, her wrists bruised in the shape of Naomi’s fingers. They said it was an accident, but I know better. Naomi had her hands around Amber’s throat in that car, pressing down as Amber clawed at her, desperate for air. She made Amber look her in the eyes as she choked the life out of her. When they found the body, she was posed, like she’d just fallen asleep, but her eyes… they were open, and wide with terror.”

My mouth went dry. The woman’s words painted a vivid, chilling picture, and I felt the weight of her gaze as she continued.

“Then there was Jade. Fiery, passionate Jade, who saw Naomi’s darkness and tried to confront her. She thought she could fix Naomi, that maybe she could pull her back from the edge. But Naomi didn’t want fixing.” She chuckled, a hollow, eerie sound. “Jade tried to break up with her, tried to be smart about it, to meet her in public, somewhere safe. But Naomi followed her one night, found her alone on that quiet stretch of road by the river. She grabbed Jade from behind, her fingers wrapping around her neck like a vise. She didn’t kill her right away—no, Naomi liked to feel their fear, to let them realize that they were completely under her control.”

The woman’s eyes were fixed on some invisible point, her face almost serene. “Jade fought hard. She kicked, scratched, even managed to get one hand free. But Naomi… she was stronger. She pressed Jade’s face under the water, held her there until the struggling stopped, until Jade’s nails had raked the mud at the bottom of the riverbed, her mouth open in a silent scream.”

I shivered, feeling a sickening dread settle in my stomach. “And no one suspected her?”

“Not a soul,” she replied, her gaze locking onto mine, eyes gleaming with something close to pride. “Naomi was too clever for that. She played the grieving ex so well, with her soft cries and tear-streaked face. She’d show up at memorials, looking like a shell of herself, trembling in grief. People comforted her, pitied her, thought she was the victim.”

She took a slow breath, her fingers tracing patterns on the table. “But then there was Lena. Sweet, innocent Lena. The girl who saw the best in Naomi, who thought she could understand her. Lena was different—she was kind, gentle, patient. And Naomi… Naomi hated her for it. Hated the way Lena’s love felt pure, the way she thought she could ‘heal’ Naomi.”

Her expression grew darker, her voice low and chilling. “One night, Naomi invited her to an old abandoned house on the outskirts of town. She told Lena it was a surprise, something romantic. She waited until Lena had her back turned, smiling, trusting… then she picked up a rock from the ground, and with a smile as gentle as a lover’s kiss, she brought it down on the back of Lena’s head.”

I sucked in a breath, feeling horror creep through me.

“She didn’t stop there, though,” the woman said, her voice quiet, as if she were reliving every moment. “Lena was still alive, still gasping, whimpering in pain. Naomi dragged her into the darkness of that old house, blood trailing across the floor. She let Lena look into her eyes, let her see that same sweet smile as she whispered ‘I love you’ right before she ended it.”

The woman’s hand twitched, a slight tremor, but her face remained eerily calm. “They never found Lena’s body. Naomi made sure of that. No one ever thought to look in the walls of that abandoned house. She left her there to rot, knowing no one would find her, knowing that Lena would become just another ghost of her past.”

I could barely breathe. My throat felt tight, my heart pounding as I stared at the woman across from me.

“But you—how do you know all of this?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper, a tremor slipping through.

The woman’s eyes gleamed with a dark amusement, and she leaned forward, her smile widening. “Because I was there,” she whispered. “I was there for every moment. I was the one she loved… the one she couldn’t kill.” She paused, letting the words sink in, her smile growing wider, more sinister. “I was the only one who survived.”

The weight of her words settled over me, a suffocating dread twisting my stomach. I looked down at the table, my mind racing, my pulse hammering, until the realization struck me like a blow. I wasn’t in a café, wasn’t here for a casual conversation—I was in an interview room, and this woman across from me wasn’t just a witness. I was a detective, and she was telling her story to the police.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze back to her, the horror dawning on me, but she was already watching me with that knowing, almost gleeful expression.

“You see,” she said softly, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “Naomi wasn’t real. She was just a name I used, a mask to hide behind. I was the one who drew those girls in. I was the one who held them as they took their last breaths, whispering all the things they wanted to hear. I’m the one who loved them enough to keep them with me… forever.”

She leaned back, her smile chilling, her eyes glinting with dark pleasure. “I’ve been waiting for someone to figure it out. To piece together the story. But every time they got close, well… let’s just say they never had a chance to finish their report.”

My hands trembled, but I kept my face neutral, swallowing the bile rising in my throat.

“So, Detective,” she whispered, her voice a silken taunt, “would you like to hear more? Because I have so many more stories to tell.”

And I realized with a sickening certainty that she was enjoying every second of this. Not confessing. Reveling in it. She was the darkness behind Naomi, the one who’d orchestrated every brutal act and savored each heartbeat as it faded away. And now, she was sitting here, enjoying the fear in my eyes, the horror sinking in as I realized that I was staring into the face of a monster—one that had been hidden in plain sight, waiting for her next victim.