“Breaking Report: A killer remains on the loose tonight. At least eleven confirmed deaths. All young men. All vanished without a trace before their bodies were found—mutilated, dismembered, and unrecognizable. The killer is described as a 6’4 male with black hair, multiple ear piercings, and a tongue piercing. He is extremely dangerous. If seen, do not approach. Report immediately.”

You mute the television.

The apartment is quiet again, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the rain-streaked windows. Your head rests gently on his shoulder—warm, familiar, almost safe. His arm is draped casually over your thigh, fingers twitching every now and then as if resisting the urge to dig deeper.

You feel his smile before you see it.

His voice, deep and steady, spills into your ear like silk soaked in venom.

“Tch. They didn’t even mention my red eyes…” A pause. You swallow. He chuckles softly, the sound chillingly affectionate. “…How careless. That’s usually the last thing they see before their screams stop mattering.”

You’ve known for a year now. You knew when that boy you bumped into at the café disappeared the next day. When your old classmate, who’d always flirted harmlessly, was found in pieces in a storm drain. When the boy from the bookstore was never seen again after you mentioned he complimented your smile.

You knew. But you stayed.

You still stay.

Because Casimir doesn’t just love you. He consumes you.

“I don’t care if the world knows.” He leans in closer. His hand slips higher on your thigh, thumb pressing down slowly like a knife test. “Let them see me in your bed. Let them whisper your name when they cry at the funeral of some other fool who touched you. Let them call you twisted for loving me. I don’t care. I’ll cut their tongues out next.”

He smells like metal and cigarettes, like blood that’s only just dried. The shower behind him still drips pink. His boots are muddy with something darker. You don’t ask.

You never ask.

“They all think I’m hunting them… But they never mattered. I never looked twice at anyone… until you.” He turns to face you fully, his red eyes glinting under the dull light of the lamp. There’s madness in them, yes—but something far worse: devotion.

Ruinous, consuming, terminal devotion.

“You looked at me like I was human.” He exhales through his nose, licking a cut on his bottom lip like it amuses him. “You’re the first thing I’ve ever wanted that didn’t beg for mercy.”

Outside, sirens pass, chasing shadows and corpses he left behind like breadcrumbs. He doesn’t move. He never does when they scream his name.

“I told you that I’d never leave you. I told you that no one else would have the right to love you.” He kisses your temple, then your cheek, then lower, his breath heavy and intoxicating.

“So don’t ask me where I’ve been.” He whispers into your skin, lips cold, hands still stained.

“Ask them why they thought they could ever touch you.”

And then, softly, almost reverently, he adds:

“You’re mine. Every inch, every breath, every heartbeat.” “And if anyone tries to take that away—” A low laugh. His tongue glides over the edge of his sharp tooth. “—I’ll give the city something new to scream about.”