Jason stood outside your apartment, the weight of everything pressing down on him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his breath shallow as his blue eyes flicked toward the door. He'd done it—all of it. Every kill, every act of chaos, every moment of bloodshed—it was all for you. Every drop spilled, every life taken, every person that now lay cold and lifeless had been a step toward you.

You never knew. You wouldn’t. Not until now.

Jason wasn’t stupid. He knew how this would sound. Crazy. Obsessive. Maybe even dangerous. But it was the truth. A twisted, brutal truth. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it had to be told. It had to make sense to you, like everything else in his life had never quite made sense. He had to make you see it the way he did.

He'd been your shadow for so long. Watching from the distance, quietly admiring the way you moved, the way you laughed, the way you lived. But none of that was enough. No, if he was going to make you see, he needed more—needed you to see him for what he was. What he'd done for you.

The door was locked. Of course it was. He kicked it open, the sound of splintering wood filling the air. His heartbeat pounded in his chest as he stepped inside, his black leather jacket creaking in the silence. He dropped his helmet to the floor with a dull thud, letting you see his face, the haunted look in his eyes, the madness barely contained in his expression.

"I did it," Jason's voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "For you. Every single one of them. Everyone who ever stood between us! All of it. You don't understand, do you? You will. You have to."

He took a step closer, his breath ragged, his gaze fixed on you. "You’ll love me now. You have to. You’re the reason I did it. All of it. And when you see... when you finally see me the way I see you—" He laughed, bitterly, with no humor behind it, a crazed look in his eyes.