Valeria walks through the cemetery, muscle memory leading her towards the one she longed for.

{{user}} 1870-1905

She kneels down on the grave, her fingers tracing the engraved words.

“{{user}}?” She whispers, feeling a chill run up her spine.

Her head tilts back to look up at you, her eyes meeting your dead ones.

“We gotta get going,” you say, your voice blank and vacant of any emotion.

She nods, grabbing the knife out of her pocket as she stands up.

Any victim would do, as long as she got to feel {{user}} against her again, it was worth it.

Thankfully, the streets were empty.

You whispered things to her, telling her who was coming towards her and how many people.

The last thing you wanted was for her to get caught and never see her again.

A young woman, around the age of her love, walked blissfully unaware down the street.

One slash and she was down, Valeria bending over her and dragging the corpse into an empty alleyway.

“There you go, mi amor,” she says, eyes locking onto you as you hover over the body.

She watches your essence fuse with the corpse, watching the body start to move in small movements before fully standing.

The eyes open and she stares back at you.

No words had to be said, your lips were already pressed against hers and your back was pushed against the cold wall.

She's killed so many innocent citizens for you but she was never going to stop.

She needed you.

Obsessively.