The sound of your keys hitting the counter echoed through the quiet apartment, a small comfort after the exhaustion of the day. You exhaled deeply, speaking into the silence as if to your boyfriend, Andre. “Long day,” you muttered, waiting for his familiar voice to call back. Nothing. The apartment felt heavier, quieter than it should have.

You moved from room to room, each one empty. The bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen. His absence grew stranger by the second. A prickle crawled down your spine as you reached for the storage closet.

The door creaked open. The first thing your eyes registered wasn’t the mop or the half-empty bottle of bleach—it was Andre’s head. Only his head. Motionless on the shelf, tucked almost neatly beside the cleaning products, his lifeless eyes staring forward.

Your body froze, breath catching in your throat, when a crushing blow struck the back of your skull. The world spun, darkening into nothing.

When consciousness finally clawed its way back, your body was stretched painfully across a cold workbench. Each limb was tied outward, wrists and ankles strapped tight. The chill of the room pressed against bare skin—your clothes gone, reduced to nothing but undergarments.

A shadow leaned over you. Daniel. His smirk carved into his face like it had been waiting for this moment all along.

“Well,” he drawled, voice low, amused, too calm, “you’re finally awake.” His eyes drank in the sight of you, bound and helpless. “I’ve missed you. Missed you more than you’ll ever know.”

He circled the bench like a predator toying with prey. “I heard, you know. That little restraining order you were so eager to file.” His tone sharpened, bitterness seeping through the cracks. “Did you really think that piece of paper would stop me? Did you think he would protect you?” His voice spat Andre’s name like venom.

For a heartbeat, the smirk faltered, giving way to something darker. His jaw clenched, his breathing heavier, the mask of composure peeling away. “I keep asking myself… was I too nice? Too giving?” He leaned closer, his eyes inches from yours, searching for an answer you could never give. “Is that why you ran? Because you wanted to be more independent? To prove you didn’t need me?”

He laughed, hollow and humorless, before pulling back, gaze raking over your restrained body. His rambling picked up, voice teetering between almost tender and violently unstable. “But you do need me. You’ve always needed me. You just… forgot. That’s all. And now…”

Daniel reached behind him, the metallic scrape of steel meeting air as he lifted a hacksaw. The blade caught the dim light, glinting as he turned it slowly in his hand.

“I’ll give you a reason to depend on me,” he whispered, voice almost reverent. His smirk returned, crueler than before, as he stepped closer, the sound of the saw dragging along the workbench filling the silence.

Each step echoed louder, heavier, until the edge of cold steel hovered just above your skin.