The days passed slowly, each one adding to Aeron's obsession. He followed her every move like a shadow with a heartbeat.
Liora's routine never changed. Park bench. Grocery store. Home. The only expression she wore was stillness. She looked like someone who had forgotten how to feel. No one noticed her. No one cared. She was the type of girl the world ignored—except him.
And Aeron liked that.
He had watched women for years. Studied them before he acted. He always looked for the same things: fake smiles, seductive eyes, laughter that was too loud, clothes made to tempt. But Liora had none of those. She didn't try to hide behind anything. She was just… tired.
And that made her dangerously beautiful.
He sat in his car across the street from her house, fingers tapping the steering wheel. His dark hoodie was pulled low over his face, and the black gloves he wore almost felt like second skin now. His tools were packed—syringe, duct tape, rope, and the special blindfold he always used.
The basement was ready.The chains were clean.The cameras were working.
But still, something stopped him.
He gritted his teeth. Why did he keep hesitating?
Maybe it was her eyes. Maybe it was how she looked out the window every night like she was waiting for someone who never came. Or maybe it was the moment he saw her kneel to feed a stray kitten under the bench, her fingers trembling, yet gentle.
Why do you care? he snapped at himself. You're not here to save her. You're here to finish what you started.
But the feeling wouldn't go away.
That night, as he watched her window from his parked car, a storm rolled in. Thunder cracked across the sky, and rain began to pour. Still, she sat there—alone in her tiny room—knees to her chest, staring at the floor.
He couldn't stop watching.
At 3 a.m., she opened the window and stuck her hand out into the rain. Just her hand. As if she wanted to feel something real. Something honest.
Aeron's chest tightened in a way he didn't like.
"She wants to die," he whispered, watching her."But she doesn't want to jump. She's waiting… for someone to push."
That idea should have thrilled him.It didn't.
Instead, something inside him said,
"What if you don't push her?""What if you catch her?"
He shook his head violently. No. No. NO. That wasn't part of the plan. He didn't feel. He didn't care. That's what made him strong.
But his fingers were already curling around the handle of the car door.His body was already moving.And fate, it seemed, was already rewriting the rules.
Scene Shift — Inside Liora's House
Liora sat on the windowsill, rain soaking her hand. Her stepfather was passed out drunk on the couch. Her mother hadn't come home. Again.
The thunder didn't scare her. Nothing did anymore.
She thought about running away. But where would she go? Who would care? The world didn't want broken girls. It wanted girls who smiled and lied and looked pretty while suffering in silence.
Then, a sound.
A soft creak near the back door.She froze.
Silence.
She grabbed the small pocket knife she kept under her pillow. It wasn't much, but it gave her comfort. Slowly, she walked down the hallway, every floorboard groaning beneath her bare feet.
She reached the kitchen.
Nothing.
Until—A gloved hand shot out from the shadows and covered her mouth.
Her scream died instantly. Her eyes widened in pure terror as a sharp prick hit her neck. Her body weakened, her limbs heavy. She struggled for just a moment—but it wasn't enough.
The last thing she saw before darkness took her…Was a pair of ice-cold eyes staring down at her.And a whisper in her ear:
"You're mine now."