So High School

The Blackwood Killer

A/N this wasn't the most requested chapter but i really wanted to write it

TW

Travis
I sat alone in the darkened living room, my eyes locked onto the flickering television screen, its cold glow reflecting off my face. The early morning hours were crawling by, but sleep felt like a distant memory, something just out of reach. My thoughts were racing, a never-ending stream of worries and uncertainties that kept me wide awake. The heavy silence in the house was oppressive, but my mind was louder, drowning out everything else.

"The Blackwood Killer strikes again..."

The words were a punch to the gut, the chilling reminder of the nightmare that had been gripping the city for weeks. Another woman, another victim. This was the fifth death this month, all eerily similar. Only women were being targeted, and each murder was more brutal than the last. The killer's methods were unpredictable—twists and turns that baffled the authorities. They were working tirelessly, but no one had any answers. No one could find him. And the thing that terrified me the most was the note left behind at every crime scene. It was always the same—scratched, jagged letters in some deranged hand: "I won't stop until every woman is dead."

But it wasn't just a series of faceless deaths. These weren't numbers or statistics. These were real lives being extinguished, and the fear was palpable in the air. I couldn't help but think about Taylor—how I'd do anything to keep her safe, to protect her from this madman. She meant everything to me. She was my world.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, I heard soft footsteps on the stairs. The faint sound of bare feet padding across the wood floor broke through the tension. I didn't need to look to know it was her. I felt it, the pull of her presence, even before I saw her.

Taylor appeared in the doorway, a blanket draped over her shoulders like a makeshift cape, her eyes barely open. She was rubbing them sleepily, her blonde curls wild and fluffy, falling all around her face. One of my old, oversized t-shirts hung off her delicate frame, slipping off one shoulder. The sight of her—adorable, vulnerable, and tired—was enough to break the heaviness in my chest for a moment.

"Travis," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, the words barely more than a whisper. "Why are you up?"

I didn't look away from the screen, but I felt a deep ache in my chest. It was almost unbearable to think of her being anywhere near this danger. I exhaled slowly, pushing away the fear gnawing at me.

"I couldn't sleep," I replied softly, my voice low and steady. I opened my arms wide, beckoning her toward me. "Come here."

She stumbled toward me, her movements slow and disoriented, and then collapsed into my lap, curling herself into me with a small, sleepy sigh. The warmth of her body pressed against mine was a comfort I didn't even know I needed. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, burying her face against my chest. I could feel her soft, even breathing, her heartbeat against mine as she relaxed into me.

Her tired blue eyes lifted to meet mine, wide and glassy from sleep but still full of concern. She looked at the television for a moment, her gaze flickering to the screen, then back to me.

"Another one?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper, her words thick with fear.

I nodded silently, tightening my arms around her, pulling her even closer as if doing so could somehow shield her from everything that lurked outside these walls. I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo, trying to bury my own fear under the feeling of her in my arms.

"Trav..." she trailed off, her voice trembling just slightly, a whisper of fear slipping through the cracks of her calm demeanor. "Are we... Is it safe? Will we be safe?"