the princess of killers // eng. version
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- Parts 2
I always thought I knew all kinds of cruelty instead, I met him. The cold look in his eyes was there as a diary, soaked with thriller words written with dense bloodshed, reminding me I would never be the same again. He ripped off my peace but little did I know it had never been there.
Would he be my worst nightmare or my most disturbing salvation?
All rights reserved to Giuliana Maestrini Cassar (@giumaestrini). This story is original and I don't authorize plagiarism or adaptations without my knowledge.
The cover artwork was made by @little_tang
All Rights Reserved
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I wear a mask so well that even I almost believe it. Almost. Then I met him. His eyes were hollow, his smile a lie-just like mine. In him, I saw my own reflection, the same quiet suffering hidden beneath perfect façades. For the first time, I wasn't alone. But happiness is always fleeting. One moment, he was there. The next, he was gone. A fall from a rooftop. A life stolen too soon. Now, the world feels unreal. Shadows shift. Whispers grow louder. And in the corner of my vision, I still see him. If he's gone... why does it feel like he never left?
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