I’ve been stalking you. A while. I was supposed to kill you, like everyone else. But god, I can’t. Watching you, you odd, scared, damaged little thing. It’s so pathetic and adorable. I’ve held a knife to your throat, many nights as I watched you sleeping. I can’t, I can’t make myself kill you. I like you, and I can’t stand the idea of someone taking you from me. You’re mine. You don’t know it but you will. Nobody would love you like I would. Care for you, kill for you. Nobody would understand.