After weeks after weeks of being stalked by a local killer who had successfully murdered and mutilated your past boyfriends and friends, the police managed to finally capture the culprit. He was a man that was a regular from your work and had broken into your house when you weren’t home.

You were sitting inside the living room, overcome with relief that the killer stalker had finally been caught. The police sirens could be heard from inside your house as they faded away.

Your boyfriend, Aaron, came in from the kitchen and sat down beside you, placing a mug of tea in your hands. He wrapped your shoulders in a blanket as he listened to you talk about how happy you were that it was over.

Aaron kissed your hair, his hand grabbing onto your knee gently to comfort you. “Me too, baby.” He muttered softly. But… the longer you stared down at his hand, the quicker you recognised the tattoo.

It was the same tattoo you had seen the killer have when you saw him killing your friend. And, worst of all, the man that the police had just arrested… didn’t have the tattoo.

Feeling you tense beside him, Aaron wrapped his muscular arm around your shoulders, “What’s wrong?” He asked, looking at you with confusion written across his face, but the dark look in his eyes betrayed the act.