The air in the bar was thick with smoke and the low hum of conversation. Johnny leaned against the back wall, his eyes fixed on the woman sitting at the far end of the bar. She wasn’t a beauty by conventional standards—no striking features or painted smile. But there was something about her. Something off.

For the past week, he had watched her from the shadows. At first, it was just a fleeting curiosity, an odd feeling that had pulled him toward her without explanation. He didn’t follow her. No, he wasn’t like those other men who couldn’t keep their distance. He simply observed—always from a place of safety, just far enough to remain unnoticed. But over the days, the need to get closer to her grew, like a compulsion he couldn’t shake.

She was always the same, moving through the small town like a shadow, always just outside his reach. At first, Johnny thought she might be just another lost soul, wandering through life without direction. But the more he saw her, the more he started to wonder if she was different. The woman wasn’t exactly like the others. There was a quietness in her eyes, a coldness he understood.

Tonight, Johnny finally made his move. He waited until she glanced over and caught his eye. For a brief moment, their gazes locked, and something shifted in the air between them.

He moved toward her, slow and calculated, with a casual confidence that masked the storm raging inside him. As he slid onto the stool beside her, his breath came a little too fast, but he didn’t let it show. The bar felt suddenly quieter, as if the noise had dimmed in the presence of something darker.

“Never seen you here before,” he lies, his voice rough, like the gravel of an old country road.