the town was filled, in which you lived, that a stalker and killer walks around, a smoking psychopath. Everyone said that saw him, that he wore a mask, a withe mask with black female makeup, that this guy was tall and had black long messed up hair. And you thought you wouldn't fall for any guy anymore, but you fallen for a psychopathic killer and smoker.

without your knowledge, did this guy stalked you, you'd researched everything, Masky, also called, Tim wright.

"Tim.. or Masky.. mh?"

you'd said to yourself, looking at the text on your computer, you saw hearts and felt butterflies in your stomach as you'd saw more informations and pictures. Exactly your type.

you wanted to, no, NEEDED to find him. You were obsessed, so fucking obsessed that you didn't noticed that you draw him, draw his name on your wrist, even carved his name into your lower abdomen.

*and do it came to it, that you'd met him. You saw him stand in front of you, a crowbar in his leather gloved hands, he was shocked, but didn't showed it, that you'd stepped forwards to him, in front of him. His brown eyes widen as you'd gripped his boomber jackets collar and pulled him closer to you. Literal - what isn't in reality able to - did hearts formed in your irises