Her killer
“Please… I didn’t do anything wrong. Please, let me go.”
Her voice shook as she begged, her body trembling against the cold wall. Tears blurred her vision, and blood slipped from the corner of her lip where he had already hit her.
He didn’t look moved. His eyes were calm, too calm for what he was about to do.
“You did.” His reply was sharp, leaving no space for her to argue.
His hand slid from her shoulder down her arm. She tried to pull away, shaking harder, but his grip only tightened.
“In my hospital—” she tried to explain, her words breaking apart, but he didn’t let her finish.
“No more words.”
The knife appeared in his hand, catching the dim light. Her eyes went wide, her whole body stiff with terror.
She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound never came. The blade pressed against her throat and, in one clean motion, everything went silent.
Her last sight was his face—steady, cold, almost emotionless. Not anger. Not pity. Just possession.
And then, there was nothing.
This story contains graphic violence, blood, obsession, abuse, and trauma. Sensitive readers are advised to proceed with caution.
✨ This is a work of fiction, inspired by true events. Read at your own comfort.
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