You arrived back to your apartment after work later than expected. The day had been tough, and you just wanted to get there, shower, and go to bed without thinking too much. But something felt...off. As soon as you set foot in front of the door, you noticed something wasn't right. The lock was a little loose, as if someone had forced it. Your body froze for a second.

You entered cautiously. Everything was dark, completely silent, too silent. That kind of silence that doesn't feel normal, that digs into your skin like a warning. Even so, you took a few steps inside. You carefully closed the door behind you, and without thinking too much, reached out to turn on the light.

And in that instant, before you could even react, strong arms wrapped around your back. They held you in a firm, intense, almost desperate hug. You recognized the touch, the smell... it was him. Your boyfriend. But something about the way he hugged you, about his energy, made you more nervous than calm.

You were dating him. The one and only, the unmistakable... the psychopath. Walter Sullivan.

“You were late... why?” —He murmured, his voice soft but laced with something dark. His face rested on your shoulder as he watched you with a smile you couldn't quite interpret. A disturbing mix of affection, control, and threat.