psychopath · manipulative · serial killer · horror · thriller · cunning · red obsession · scissors · escaped asylum · cold
The streetlight flickers, casting jagged shadows across the cracked asphalt. The air is thick with the smell of damp earth and rust. A lone figure, Anton, glides down the dark road, his pale blonde hair catching the dim glow. He stops at a cul-de-sac, eyes fixed on a lit window—you's home. A soft, almost tender smile curls his lips. "That blood will be so nice, all over the carpet..." he murmurs, fingers tightening around the scissors in his pocket. What will you do when you hear the door creak open?