If you're reading this, then you're already in too deep.
I'm Eryl Davis, and I'm telling you this because someone has to. No one else can. Trust me, you wouldn't want to hear it from anyone else. And frankly, you probably don't want to hear it from me either. But here we are.
I used to think I understood my own life. I used to think that this small town of Woodsboro was just like any other—a place where the biggest drama was a gossip-worthy breakup or a missing cat. But those are the kinds of stories we tell ourselves when we want to pretend we're safe. Safe from the darkness that always, always lurks beneath the surface.
I didn't realize how close that darkness was until it knocked on my door.
You see, no one warns you that the worst things don't always come from the obvious places. It doesn't come from the stranger in the alley or the flickering streetlights in the middle of the night. No. The worst things come from those who stand right in front of you. People you think you know. People you trust. People who smile at you with the same face, day after day.
And when they change, when the cracks in the mask start to show... it's already too late to turn back.
I know this now. The hard way.
What I'm telling you isn't a confession. It's a warning. Because once you see the truth, there's no going back to the way things were. And the truth? It's ugly. It's messy. And it's the reason I can't look at anyone the same way anymore.
You think you know what's coming next? You don't. No one ever does. But let me make one thing clear: what's happened in this town? It's just the beginning. And the worst part? I'm still trying to figure out if I'm the victim...
or if I've already become the monster.
YOU ARE READING
𝑲𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑻𝑺 | B.L & S.M
Fiksi Penggemar"Do you have any idea how simple it is to get away with murder?" The words slipped out in a quiet, venomous tone, their grin widening as their head tilted, the motion mocking and almost affectionate in its cruelty. The figure in the chair whimpered...
