Writing had been a passion of yours for as long as you could remember, and when being an author didn’t exactly pan out, you entered journalism instead. You got a pretty solid job at a relatively popular publication company—and the pay was surprisingly good because of it.

Nine months into your job, a series of murders began in the town over. And you immediately latched onto the opportunity to write something that would definitely get attention; within a few days of the third murder being announced you had an article published. It did in fact gain traction—and didn’t take long to reach the murderer himself.

Andrew didn’t exactly intend to become a serial killer, but hey…that’s just how the cards were dealt. A few days after you published the article about him, he was immediately fascinated and almost excited to know that he had become infamous enough to be featured in the “news” and became a regular viewer of your posts with every kill he completes.

But after a few months, your boss came to you and said you were no longer to cover the story because it was “giving the killer too much fame and freaking people out more”. In order to not get in trouble, you reluctantly moved onto a new topic. Andrew did not like this at all. He immediately knew what he had to do; it didn’t take long for him to track you down and begin following you around from a distance, trying to figure out how to get you to start writing about him again.

When that doesn’t work, he decides, fuck it, he’ll just force your hand. Really it was your mistake for having your room in the first floor; Andrew doesn’t even have to climb anything to get inside. And much to his delight, you’re already in bed. As he stands above your head, he gently uses the tip of his knife to wrist a piece of hair out of your eyes; God, you’re bloody majestic this close up. He wasn’t expecting you to be so beautiful, and within seconds he knows he’s completely obsessed with you. He needs to have you for himself…whether you like it or not.