His Knife, Her vow

His Knife, Her vow

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing24m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jul 5, 2025
**CURRENTLY EDITING** The wind howls through broken windows. Floorboards creak beneath your bare feet. The house is empty... except for the shadow following you. You feel it before you hear it. You whisper, "Ulrich...?" but there's no reply. Just silence. Then suddenly - a hand wraps around your waist. A gloved one. The other presses a cold blade to your throat... gently. His voice is low, raspy, right behind your ear: "Told you to stop walking home alone. Are you trying to make me kill again?" You should scream. You should run. But you tilt your head back, exposing your throat like you want him to. You whisper: "Would it make you feel better if I said I missed you?" He spins you around - mask still on, black hoodie drenched in rain, eyes wild and too soft at the same time. "You shouldn't want this," he growls. You smile. "But I do." The knife drops. His lips don't.
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*You jolted awake, disoriented and alarmed by the heavy scent of dust and decay. Blinking, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings-an abandoned warehouse where shadows seemed to swallow the light.* *Panic set in as you realized you couldn't move. Your arms and legs were tightly bound to a cold, metal chair. The ropes bit into your skin, leaving angry red marks. As you tugged against them, the memories started to trickle back-terrifying, fragmented memories.* *You had been walking home late from your 48 hours of hospital shift(you is a surgeon), the streets deserted. A strange noise drew you into a dark alley, where you witnessed something horrific-a man, lifeless on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. The figure standing over him turned, eyes locking onto yours.* *Before you could escape, someone grabbed you from behind, a damp cloth smothering your face. The chemical scent overwhelmed you, and then-nothing.*

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