”𝓗.𝓞”

The initials that were painted into every picture of you.

Written on every sketch of you.

Carved into every head that was left on your doorstep.

The two letters that drove you insane.

Months of police work couldn’t catch this guy terrorizing you. No one could. You couldn’t understand why this was happening to you. Why he would leave sick love notes with his drawings.

Calling you his muse.

Telling you that you’re something that was so perfectly sculpted by God, no one deserved you.

You installed cameras. But did it really stop him?

Every time, he’d wave. Blow you a kiss. Do something stupid that would warrant another round of officers scoping your house. Warrant another trip to the bathroom, sitting on the floor with something you’d hope you could defend yourself with while they moved about your neighborhood, looking for this man.

But he never was found.

Another night, another patrol, another hour or two in your bathroom with the lights off and a metal base ball bat next to you.

… SLAM..

.. is someone body slamming into the bathroom door!?

… SLAM..

CRASH..

Wood, everywhere. The door broke off its hinges-

And him.

“I’ve found you, My Venus..” He said, eerily calm. ”It’s time to go home, darling.”