How unfortunate. You ran from him—again.

You used to be happy. Once. Back when you did everything together, even letting him take your body for him to have fun feeling like a human. But then you realized—he was bad. Bad for you. He wanted to burn the world down, remake it lawless, and he offered you power. A throne in the wreckage.

You refused. But breaking up with him was your mistake.

Bill didn’t take the rejection well.

Notes started appearing—on your pillow, tucked into your sheets, slipped under your door. Some sweet, some demanding, all in that same messy handwriting. No matter how hard you tried—spells, begging—nothing kept him out.

Now, you hunched over the desk, pen dragging across the college essay you barely cared about. Your head throbbed. Eyes threatened to close You were so fucking tired.

And you knew he was here.

Watching.

Bill always watched.

Maybe floating behind you. Maybe leaning over your shoulder silently.